Clinton Rossiter was an interesting man, a professor of mine. He wrote a book called "The American Presidency" and taught a course on it. One of the themes was that the President had many different roles. I think that's being ignored in the liberal angst over Obama's deficiencies as what I think Rossiter called: "Chief Legislator". The meme is that Obama is not a good negotiator; he doesn't play hard ball well enough; he gives away the farm too early in the negotiations. People cite LBJ as the polar opposite; someone who played the game very well, always searching for an edge and a master of persuasion.
The meme may well be true, but one thing worth remembering is the many (16 maybe?) roles of the President. Not every person will do every role well. Nor is a person's performance under his own control, much is dependent on circumstances. Beating up Obama may feel good to liberals, but they ought to stick pins in their Sarah Palin doll instead.
2 comments:
I agree. I am researching Clinton Rossiter. Would you mind telling me what you remember about him.
Were you a student when he died by suicide>
No, I started Cornell in 1959, and had Rossiter for Government 101--American government. My memory is fallible, but we met in Goldwin Smith B, I think, a big semicircular lecture hall, used for the biggest classes. Rossiter was a star on campus then. I would have thought him older than the 42 I calculate now from wikipedia, but then I was young. "egghead" was at its peak usage then, and Rossiter looked like one--similar high forehead as Adlai Stevenson.
Coming from a small upstate NY high school, he seemed to be everything a professor should be: a vigorous lecturer, knowledgeable in his subject, a bit of a showman. I read the book by his son, and now know he had his own demons, but I couldn't tell that from the exterior he presented. He seemed at that time to be at the top of the world. Looking back at the course of his life, perhaps he was.
I was too shy to initiate any personal contact with him. I've a memory, perhaps dubious, of being hungover at a lecture, having to stumble out of the hall and having him pause his talk until I reached the door. Very embarrassing.
My roommate was on the 150 pound football team. They played Saturday mornings, usually with just a scattering of fans along the sidelines. I do remember him one cold morning, bareheaded, cheering on the team. I think he often attended Cornell sports events, though that's the one memory I have of that. I gathered later from his son's book that he gave more time and emotion to Cornell than to his family.
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