As a core campaign tactic, lying is nothing new.
The point-counter point after Paul Ryan's convention speech has raised many questions -- about, for instance, the role of the media and the role of self-appointed "fact-checkers." But none is more important than the question of whether both campaigns have chosen direct lies as a core campaign tactic and whether, if so, this will increase cynicism and foster distrust in the electorate. Are we doomed from now until the election to calculated political demagoguery in highly distorted negative ads fueled by gobs of unaccountable money?
Let me emphasize that this concern about direct lying applies to both parties. Brooks Jackson, the director of FactCheck.org, a project of the Annenberg Public Policy Center at the University of Pennsylvania, is quoted as saying that both parties have lied knowingly: "They don't care because it gets votes." After skewering Ryan's misleading statements on Obama's role in a GM plant closing and his own support of Simpson Bowles ("Paul, sometimes you just have to put your own foot down and tell the campaign you won't do it"), columnist David Brooks went on to define "the larger issue": Both campaigns have decided that deceptiveness carries no penalty. I know from conversations I've had that both campaigns do rigorous fact-checking. When the candidates say something wholly or partially false, they know exactly what they are doing.
I subscribe to the view that this is a critical election, because the two parties actually have very different views of the role of government. But those who hoped for a national "policy' debate (and liberal friends of mine welcomed Ryan's nomination on just this grounds) must be a bit chagrined now that it isn't likely to happen. For example, the conversation about Medicare's future -- surely one of the most important and difficult national policy issues -- has been reduced to out-of-context, close-to-incomprehensible mud-slinging about which party is going to hurt seniors most. When the stakes are seen by partisans as so high, the ancient issue of ends justifying means comes to the fore. In this case, those "means" mean deliberate falsehoods, or statements that are so incomplete that they are effectively false.
Stepping back for a moment, we can view this issue of "facts" and "falsehoods" from two opposite perspectives. First, political campaigns for two millennia have tried to sway voters with half-truths, innuendo, emotional appeals, whoppers, and direct lies. (See advisor Quintus Tullius Cicero's recently published advice to his candidate brother in 64 BC -- How to Win an Election.) Nothing new; no big deal; voters have common sense; it will all get sorted out in the marketplace of "ideas."
Lies seem destined to become standard operating procedure, perhaps with little embarrassment and little adverse impact -- except to our democracy
But a second perspective is the dangerous -- fatally dangerous -- use of the Big Lie to pervert democracy: Repeat a falsehood long enough and it becomes political if not actual truth. This tactic characterized Senator Joseph McCarthy's campaign of fear and his baseless charges that, in large (if shifting) numbers, Communists had infiltrated U.S. national security institutions, especially the State Department. A corollary of the Big Lie, propounded by New Yorker writer Richard Rovere, one of McCarthy's severest critics, was "Multiple Untruths" (smaller lies) that could be thrown at opponents in profusion and were confused, confusing, and hard to refute. "McCarthyism" in the sense of "red-baiting" is not part of today's politics. But demonizing opponents with emotive untruths -- at least by the extreme wings of each party -- is certainly in vogue.