The Likability Sweepstakes

By Richard Stengel

" And that's the wonder, the wonder of this country, that a man can end with diamonds here on the basis of being liked!"

-- Death of a Salesman

Willy Loman knew how important it was to be well liked. Since Eisenhower won with the primitivist slogan "I Like Ike," Americans seem to require a pleasing affability from their Commander in Chief. Under Ronald Reagan, geniality was raised to an art form; the President became the nation's surrogate grandfather.

Pollsters say that the advent of television campaign coverage made "image impressions" more important than issues. Likability is one component of that impression. In a campaign where no single issue commands attention, it becomes even more significant.

Since last winter, Bush strategists had known they had to spruce up the Vice President's image. George Bush was seen as awkward, wimpish, maladroit. So Bush's handlers engineered a makeover. They had him utter self-deprecating cracks about his lack of charisma. They arranged for him to be photographed amid his photogenic grandchildren.

As Bush's negatives receded, he sought to raise those of Dukakis. After slipping up in the first debate, Bush smiled and said, "Wouldn't it be nice to be the Ice Man, so you never make a mistake?" His aides later christened the contest the Nice Man vs. the Ice Man. The idea was to portray Bush's occasional goofiness as engaging, and Dukakis' competence as soulless.

The Dukakis camp came late to the likability wars. Competence was what counted. So what if he sometimes seemed to be running for Accountant in Chief? After the first debate, however, polls showed this to be costly; a TIME poll revealed voters thinking that Dukakis had won, but that Bush (by 44% to 38%) was more likable. Dukakis aides began pushing for a "kinder, gentler," warmer Dukakis. In short, they wanted more Zorba, less Zeno.

The new strategy was simple: depict the Nice Man as incompetent, and the Competent Man as nice. The Governor began to act more like Mike Douglas than Mike Dukakis. In North Dakota he pecked two cheerleaders on the cheek and led a crowd in a spirited rendition of Happy Birthday. No more clenched fists; Dukakis began showing open palms.

But likability goes deeper than gestures. "It is the ability to disclose a sense of the private self in public," says Kathleen Hall Jamieson, a scholar of the presidency. "In the television age, candidates have to be comfortable with public intimacy and self-disclosure." But Dukakis, as last week's debate showed, is uncomfortable with self-disclosure. His manner suggests it's none of your business.

"Competent people are sometimes seen as arrogant," says Bush's director of polling, Vince Breglio. "He's made competence his emblem. But competence is only a part of image. A President has to be open and caring, as well as tough and hard. He must project a comfortable image. It's tough for Dukakis to retrace his steps now and make himself nice."

This week the Dukakis campaign unveils commercials that attempt to thaw out the Ice Man. The ads, says Dukakis media chief David D'Alessandro, "show who he really is." Dukakis talks directly to the camera. In one he recalls what it was like to be a young father. In another he sketches his hopes for the future. But do not expect Phil Donahue. Says D'Alessandro: "Dukakis has a limit as to how much he can do as far as changing his persona." Maybe all this touchy-feely stuff is not so important after all. Noted campaign manager Susan Estrich after the debate: "I think we shouldn't make too much of likability."