| First, there is wide and deep understanding among reporters that Clinton will lose the delegate contest in Texas by a substantial margin, regardless of whether she wins a small popular vote victory. They acknowledge that the further behind she is in pledged delegates, the more unlikely is some kind of convention superdelegate strategy.
126 delegates will be selected by the popular vote in 31 state senate districts. 15 of those districts have 4 delegates. A candidate would have to win more than 62.5 percent of the vote to get a 3-1 split. Otherwise the best case is 2-2. Also, because the delegate apportionment formula is based upon 2004 and 2006 Democratic turnout, districts with large Hispanic populations fall into this small-delegate category. But African American districts, and Obama-leaning areas like Austin have 8, 7 or 6 delegates. It's a quirk of history, but the process favors Obama.
Then there's the 67 caucus-selected delegates. Obama's organization appears here in Texas to be far superior to Clinton's. He should repeat his caucus domination. Even if Clinton wins Texas by 5 or 6 points, Obama will net 20 delegates or so. The national gap will grow wider.
The press knows this. And they acknowledge that a Clinton superdelegate strategy depends upon her greatly narrowing the pledged delegate gap in Texas, Ohio and subsequent primaries. They concede this is not in the cards.
Narrative stickiness is about the media's largely unconscious desire to have the political melodrama end as they thought it would. Here you see it in short-hand reporting about the importance of Clinton "victories" in Texas and Ohio. But victories are largely irrelevant and they know it. Some TV pundits have, correctly I think, talked about the need for Clinton blowouts. But most just reduce her comeback requirements to simple victories.
Even more surprising, they justify this short-hand by telling me that any kind of victory will give Clinton a psychological advantage. But it's the media that would provide that advantage. In other words, their admission is that if they write that she might come back, they enhance her chances of a comeback.
When I asked if Obama would be given such treatment, I got a few blank stares. Then a kind of embarrassed, "probably not."
And I don't think it's bias. I do think that many in the traditional media grew up professionally around the Clintons. Their sources and their rise in the profession are connected to President Clinton. So there is that.
But they seem to like Obama and his campaign. They are impressed at the quality of the campaign. They can sense the drama of the November campaign.
Still, this doesn't fit the narrative they set out to write. They believed they were writing the melodrama of a Clinton candidacy. And they are a bit frustrated that someone is changing their ending.
I know we often decry the biases and shortcomings of the traditional media. They certainly haven't been kind to the Clintons over the years. That's such an understatement. Hell, a whole network was built around Brit Hume's hatred of them. Many Clinton supporters this year will say they have been trying to end her candidacy all along.
But pointing out that other subjective forces are at work is important. The same kind of narrative stickiness led to their attachment to what they knew was the totally invented image of President Bush as some kind of rough and ready Texas rancher. They knew the Crawford ranch had been purchased as a prop. But they didn't care. It fit the narrative they wanted to write.
This was all about the story, not about their political preference or bias.
Perhaps this would be easier for us to discuss in a general election setting in which progressives were not divided. But my talks with journalists last night made it so obvious, I thought it was important to note.
When narrative stickiness is working against a cause or candidate we support, it is never enough to challenge it with facts. We need to recognize that. First, we'll need to make the illogic transparent. Over and over and over again. Then we'll have to make the "new" ending seem like the media's idea.
Imagine a child who's heard the same bedtime story a hundred times. On reading 101, the parent changes the ending. The child will resist that, and demand a return to the story she knows so well. That's narrative stickiness. It probably applies to every one of us. It's just a great deal more visible in those telling stories to millions of Americans every day. |
