The press is impatient. Cause would be an early sequence of presidential primaries without swells or peripety — no humiliations, no scandals, zero dramatics. Even though most candidates between the two major parties have had articles written about the vitality of one or another state win, succession from contest to contest remains orderly while decisively favorable for no one. The only man bowing out so far, a Democrat, surprised by running earnestly for so long: poor, old, gubernatorial secretary-diplomat Bill Richardson.
Reportage seems to have a quicker pulse, more published per day, hour and event than 2004. The majority of it is from primary sources, factual and concrete. Somebody is on the stump, or his staff is distributing literature, responding to claims made by an opponent two hours before. Who is in which state; what corner of it, which town? A headline from fifteen minutes ago informs. Coverage invests in discrete detail as essentially as does sportscasting. Knowing where all candidates are and what they are up to at the same time is a novelty, useful if one is keeping records or writing tickers. But the risk to living from one moment to the next is that analysis narrows into straight-line projections from a tiny sample of data.
Rudy Giuliani, for example, is supposed to be in straits. Three reasons, according to commentary: attention is being paid elsewhere, polls have shifted and the former mayor has not performed well in the primaries in which he wasn't expected to perform well. On the last point: Giuliani employs strategists, literal ones, not just the sober operators best known for temporizing and talking loudly on television. Strategy aligns local and anticipated resources precisely as means to achievement over the long term. Patience, planning and indirection support it. As a strategist is scrupulous he eschews opportunity and develops contingencies for chance.
Contrast with Mike Huckabee, who won the Iowa caucuses through the immediate use of what was available (curious electors, flattering press) in lieu of what was absent (money, order). Tactics gathered the victory, and Huckabee's ad-lib couldn't unsettle the fortified New Hampshire campaigns of Mitt Romney and John McCain. No gain in the Granite State for Huckabee, no gain in Michigan for McCain, probably no gain in South Carolina for Romney. This is a season so far without any drives, in spite of the words "surge" and "momentum" as an editorial extravagance. Polls are indicators, not determinants, of elections. It might be that the direct primaries went to the man in the greatest position to take them from the start — and movement in voter loyalty amounts to a lot of statistical legerdemain.
John McCain won the New Hampshire primary when he ran for president in 2000. He is in political rapprochement with the state's party; the senator spent much of his time up there, and his visits were both noticed and appreciated. His final stay was met by a robust campaign apparatus. The Romney patriarch, George, once governed Michigan. Son Mitt successfully appealed to state Republicans, who gave to his presidential bid their money and then their votes, shepherded to ballots by a trim and effective organization.
South Carolina is trickier, a state that four in-theater candidates managed to split into shares. John McCain intended it to be a soft landing at the end-point of an arc from New Hampshire, and situated himself early; Fred Thompson, activated, presented a logical southern choice; and Mitt Romney's arguable standing as the rightward-most, viable candidate lifted him through the latter months of last year. John McCain leads and may win, but if he does on grounds of establishment back then — and not enthusiasm of now — South Carolina is a property of competence rather than narrative. The race, then, won't be McCain's; Florida, New York and California will remain Giuliani's, and we face another fortnight of no easy predictions.