As Hillary Clinton's doomed presidential bid draws to a painful close, one man has been cast as the scapegoat. In his first interview, Mark Penn, the candidate's former chief strategist, talks to Oliver Burkeman about what went wrong
Oliver Burkeman The Guardian, Monday June 2 2008
It is a little surprising that Mark Penn has agreed to talk. You might have assumed these would be reclusive, wound-licking times for the original architect and former chief strategist of Hillary Clinton's presidential campaign - a man described on the jacket of his latest book as "America's most perceptive pollster", but more commonly referred to, over the last few weeks, in far less flattering terms. As the Clinton bandwagon shudders to a halt and the blaming begins, Penn has been blamed more than anyone: for being arrogant and complacent, for urging Hillary to run as the "inevitable" winner, for failing to see the electorate's hunger for change, for devising a victory plan based on elementary misunderstandings of the voting system, and for hubris in refusing to give up his lucrative lobbying work while masterminding her candidacy. When the New Republic magazine asked Clinton staffers to explain, off the record, why her campaign went so wrong, one responded with a list: "1. Mark Penn, 2. Mark Penn, 3. Mark Penn."
Yet here we are, in Penn's gleaming top-floor office at the Washington headquarters of Burson-Marsteller, the PR firm, where he is "worldwide chief executive", and where the walls serve as a shrine to his successes: there's a newspaper front page reading "Clinton Acquitted", signed with a thank-you from Bill, and an autographed photo of Tony Blair, whom he advised in the 2005 election ("You were brilliant - Tony"). Since losing his official position on Hillary's team - it was revealed that he'd been helping the Colombian government to lobby for a trade deal that she opposed - Penn has kept a low public profile, refusing to discuss the campaign as defeat draws near. So why does he want to do so now?
Well, actually, he doesn't. "Now, my understanding is that this interview is for the paperback edition of Microtrends," Penn begins, referring to his book, a work of popular sociology. "I think I've made it clear that I'm not doing on-the-record interviews about the campaign." Nobody told me about any restrictions on what we could talk about, I reply. There follows an uncomfortable silence, which I attempt to lighten with a remark about how there's surely plenty of overlap between book and campaign. Penn, a portly 53-year-old who is invariably described by friends and reporters alike as "socially awkward", looks at me expressionlessly. "I've made it clear I'm not doing on-the-record interviews about the campaign," he repeats. Mentally, I start rephrasing all the questions I'd planned to ask about the race for the Democratic nomination so that they don't mention Clinton, or Obama, or politics.
"It's not much of a political book," Penn explains, but it's hard to believe he honestly thinks this. To everyone else who has an opinion on the matter, Microtrends encapsulates his approach to campaigning. Society, it argues, is becoming ever more fragmented into tiny yet influential demographics, defined not by class but by lifestyle choices: Penn gives them slightly cringe-inducing names, such as "old new dads", "young knitters", "extreme commuters", "tech fatales" (women who like technology) and "powerful petites" (women who are small and proud of it). The Penn philosophy of both politics and marketing involves identifying such groups through polling, then micro-targeting them with messages crafted precisely to their unique concerns. It's not pandering, he insists: it's an expression of faith in voters as smart and rational creatures who vote according to self-interest, not airy intangibles or well-packaged personalities. "They're not really voting for people on the basis of the colour of their tie," he says. "They're voting for people on the basis of
means for them and their families at the time." One campaign anecdote has an aide urging Clinton to "show a little bit of humanity", the kind of woolly advice Penn detests. "Oh, come on," he is supposed to have replied. "Being human is overrated."
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http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/jun/02/hillaryclinton.uselections20081