7.27.00
The Reserve Clause

7.26.00
Torpedoing Bush-McCain

7.24.00
Fail Safe

7.18.00
“Choose Death!”

7.10.00
Try, Try Again

6.27.00
“Ownership Is Freedom”

6.23.00
Gore the Rich-Basher

6.16.00
Co-Opt City

6.12.00
Reform, Part II

6.09.00
Bipartisan with a Vengeance

6.08.00
What’s Wrong with the Gore Ads?

ou don't have to be overwhelmed by the choice of Dick Cheney as George W. Bush's running mate, to enthuse about one quality of the former secretary of defense: his stubborn emotional reserve.

Some conservatives have been over-interpreting Cheney. It was the ultimate un-Clinton pick, we're told, because it was made without politics primarily in mind. This is a bit much: Does it mean that every other vice-presidential pick in the postwar era was "Clintonian," because the selections were heavily influenced by politics? (By the way, is it really so wrong to try to win elections, just because it's something that Bill Clinton happens to do too?)

Then, there's the boosterish talk about how Cheney "can do the job." What "job"? This argument buys into the Clinton administration line that the extraordinary Al Gore has transformed the office of the vice presidency forever. But Gore was just handed souped-up make-work like "re-inventing government" (yeah, right) and coddling corrupt Russian apparatchiks, along with the usual v.p. political hackery — which, in this case, included fundraising, carried out with great zeal.

But enough about the excesses of Cheney's boosters. The wonderful thing about Cheney himself is his utter lack of excess, which is a delightfully un-Clinton quality. Watching him on Larry King Live Tuesday night, one was struck by how completely expressionless he was. He was aggressively expressionless. He was in-your-face expressionless. Hurrah!

There is—at least, one hopes—an underground discontent with the oppressive sentimentality of American politics. Jesse Ventura tapped it. So did John McCain. Now, Cheney — in a much less flamboyant way — may get at the same thing. After nearly eight years of Clinton, at least some people may make the connection between oleaginous sentimentality, and fakery and self-indulgence of all kinds.

As John O'Sullivan recently argued in the pages of NR, the old emotional reserve was coupled with an ethic of duty and self-control that was ultimately more considerate of others than today's regime of self-expression and empathy: "For instance, Captain Oates, when he realized that he and his wound were threatening the survival of his colleagues in Scott's expedition to the South Pole, walked off into the Antarctic night with the simple words: `I am just going outside and may be some time.'"

In Cheney, you can sense how emotional reserve relates to duty and dignity in just this way. It's why "adult" comes to mind with Cheney, 59, even though it doesn't with Clinton, 53, and probably never will ("adult," in fact, was probably the appropriate word for Cheney even back when he was 34 years old and White House chief of staff).

So it will be refreshing every time Cheney doesn't hug someone, every time he doesn't tell us how he feels. To the old admonition, "never let them see you sweat," Cheney adds, "never let them see you smile, or cry either." And sensible Americans should be relieved.

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