by William Powers

Welcome Back, Carter

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It's one of those rare moments when everyone in Washington pretty much agrees on the state of the presidency—and it ain't good.

The White House is a house of pain, and the news class is taking every opportunity to remind us of this fact and, let's face it, to celebrate the downturn. You can't go anywhere in the media without stumbling on an extended discussion of exactly how awful things are for President Bush, how deeply unpopular he's become, how chastened and timid he is, how tattered his record, how dark and dreary the prospects for the rest of his term. The tone is measured, but between the lines you can sense the barely concealed glee.

The list of Bush's troubles is now so long, it's become a kind of checkpoint you have to pass through before getting to the actual story. The morning after the president announced the Harriet Miers nomination, for instance, The New York Times ran a front-page analysis that opened with a typical portrait of the troubled administration, including this: "The White House is still struggling to recover from its faltering response to Hurricane Katrina. The Republican Party is busily trying to wave away a scent of second-term scandal. The relentlessly bloody insurgency in Iraq continues to weigh heavily on his presidency. And no president can retain his political authority for long if he loses his claim to the center."

Citing my colleague Charlie Cook, the next paragraph referred to "a litany of other difficulties afflicting the administration, including high gasoline prices and the failure of Mr. Bush's push to overhaul Social Security." The story noted that The Cook Political Report is nonpartisan, as if to underline that this intense media focus on Bush's downswing is not ideologically driven. And it isn't! The president really is in a slough of despond. The polls are in, the facts are irrefutable, and you can see it on his face.

Journalists as a group have center-liberal tendencies, but in the end, our chief allegiance is not to any political party. We are the party of scandal, failure, ignominy, embarrassment, and tragedy. The more of these horrors afflicting this or any other White House, the better for us. Indeed, the Bush pile-on is now trans-ideological, thanks to the Miers nomination and the way it disappointed the conservative media. Even the Bill Kristols and Pat Buchanans are joining in.

Nobody is saying this, but there's also a subtle bit of score-settling going on. The news business has been living through its own dark period for some time—plunging readership, layoffs, faltering public esteem—and frankly, Bush didn't give a hoot about us when we were down. In fact, he kicked us, telling Fox News a few years ago that he "rarely" reads the stories we write, thus aligning himself with the hordes of what-me-worry Americans who are abandoning the news and bankrupting our little industry.

Well, who's crying now, Mr. President? Your polls are looking even worse than the media's. You wouldn't know this, since you don't read our stuff (wink, wink), but journalists are plastering your misery everywhere, reporting incessantly that you've run out of "political capital." Ten months ago, the talk was all about the stunning Bush mandate, and the media were scurrying around to show they knew something about those impressive "moral issues" that so many voters associated with you. Now the adjective most likely to appear in proximity to the word "Bush" is "weakened."

Speaking of "weakened," the most stunning feature of the Bush popularity crash, the one that would have seemed unthinkable just a year ago, is the sudden blossoming of Jimmy Carter comparisons. Of course, when you think about the White House's current problems—an energy crisis, an intractable Middle East conflict—the analogy is natural. The news tribe lives in the moment, but it's always eager to show it has more depth, by citing historical precedent. So when Bush recently issued his request that Americans conserve energy, the headlines wrote themselves.

The Washington Post called it "A Jimmy Carter Moment," observing: "'We can all pitch in ... by being better conservers of energy,' Mr. Bush pleaded.... If Americans 'are able to maybe not drive ... on a trip that's not essential, that would be helpful.' Although Jimmy Carter was ridiculed for his cardigan campaign, Mr. Bush's rhetorical U-turn is welcome."

In more ways than one. Note the use of "pleaded" and the cardigan allusion—savage stuff. This is the worst thing that could happen to a president who has tried to model himself on Ronald Reagan, the Republicans' anti-Carter superhero. And it's not just happening inside the Beltway, either. "Was Jimmy Carter Right?" asked The Plain Dealer in Cleveland. "Embattled Bush Takes a Page from Carter's Playbook," read the headline over a San Jose Mercury News column. "Bush's Actions Kindle Visions of Carter's Past," tittered the International Herald Tribune.

Can the "malaise" be far behind? In fact, Bush hasn't used the word, but the media are beginning to. All we need is some inflation or the bursting of the real estate bubble. Indeed, on the very day it litanized the president's woes, The Times fronted the news: "Slowing Is Seen in Housing Prices in Hot Markets"—and there was a faint hopefulness to the piece. After all, a bursting bubble is a much better story than a nonbursting one.

Forget the Vietnam motif. In the media's telling, the Bush White House is becoming That ' 70s Show. Hey, it's been a huge hit, drawing millions of young viewers. Just what the news business is craving.