Accentuating The Negative

By Richard Stengel

It wasn't pretty. The challenger's advertising vilified the Vice President as a feckless aristocrat while touting himself as a man of the people. The Vice President's campaign was quick to retaliate, depicting his opponent as a reckless enemy of the Constitution. The riposte must have worked, because the Vice President edged out his rival in the voting.

John Adams' victory over Thomas Jefferson in the presidential election of 1796 might not have been due to Adams' strident handbills, but it gave birth to a tradition in American politics that still flourishes: accentuating the negative. The rule is: when in doubt, attack; when attacked, counterattack. History will show that in New Hampshire last week a Vice President's hard- hitting, negative television ads in response to an insurgent Senator's first strike pushed the Vice President to victory. On the Democratic side, two rivals strafed each other over the airwaves and basically reached a draw.

Although negative political ads are as old as the Republic, commentators still cluck with disapproval each time the ads reappear, while candidates employ euphemisms to avoid using the N word. Television has made the strategy riskier. Because of the medium's power and unpredictable effects, candidates have been reluctant to use the small screen for political sallies. But the flurry of so-called comparative ads during last week's primary showed that restraint has been cast aside. The tone and character of much of the TV advertising for the rest of the primaries may be tough, accusatory, even mean.

In New Hampshire, it was Dole, not Bush, who launched the first strike. Several days after Iowa, the Dole campaign aired a slick, well-made ad featuring joint head shots of the Senator and the Vice President. The announcer listed areas in which Dole claimed that he had shown leadership -- Social Security, INF, tax cuts -- and then said in a stentorian voice, "George Bush had nothing to do with it." Each time, Bush's image faded a little more, until it finally vanished.

With only three days of campaigning left in New Hampshire, tracking polls showed Bush trailing Dole by as much as 9 points. Roger Ailes, Bush's media consultant, advocated the use of negative ads to derail Dole. Bush hesitated. But on Saturday morning he agreed to run the ad some dubbed the "Two Faces of Dole." Over head shots of Bush and Dole, an announcer praised Bush's leadership on various questions, then declared that Dole had "straddled" the issues.

The ads were ready to go Saturday afternoon, But the state's only commercial VHF station, Channel 9, had closed for the weekend. New Hampshire Governor John Sununu, a Bush supporter, drove to Manchester to meet with the station manager, his friend; within hours Bush's ads were flickering across TV screens. From Saturday afternoon until the polls closed, the ad ran more than 40 times in the state. It was too late for Dole to come up with a reply.

Bush's ad looked amateurish, but it had bite because it speared Dole where he was most vulnerable: taxes. "George Bush won't raise taxes, period," the ad said. "Bob Dole straddled, and he just won't promise not to raise taxes. And you know what that means." The commercial cost Dole votes in the taxophobic state.

Less than 24 hours after Dick Gephardt arrived in New Hampshire, Paul Simon's negative ads were on the air. They were designed to act as a video karate chop to the Iowa victor's momentum. Again, there were simple side-by- side head shots of the candidates followed by a slanted comparison of voting records. Gephardt's tracking polls showed his lead over Simon diminishing to almost zero.

Gephardt swiftly retaliated. His ads were minimalist: all words, white on a black background, ending with a small picture of Gephardt's face. The ad fired from both barrels, accusing Simon of distorting Gephardt's record on Social Security and describing Michael Dukakis as "one of the biggest tax raisers in ^ Massachusetts history." Between Saturday and Tuesday, Gephardt's slide stopped.

Long before last week, political consultants concluded that negative ads often have more impact than positive ones. The negative ads in many 1986 Senate races were critical failures but ballot-box successes. According to Democratic Pollster Mark Mellman, studies show that people process negative information more thoroughly than positive statements. Media Consultant Robert Squier sees the New Hampshire ads as part of a general trend toward what could be called infomercials. "Any information," he says, "will be voraciously consumed by the voter."

There are drawbacks. Negative ads can muddy a perpetrator's positive image. Such ads can repel as easily as they entice, driving away voters they were meant to attract. Dueling commercials between two candidates, says Mellman, can propel voters into the arms of a third. Negative ads during a primary, Squier notes, are dicier than similar ads during the general election; sniping at party comrades is never an ennobling sight.

Positive ads work best when the candidate is already clearly defined; Reagan's gauzy, uplifting commercials in 1984 only reinforced what millions already perceived about the fellow in the White House. But in the Democratic race, where voters still have trouble telling most of the candidates apart, it is sometimes more effective to define a candidate by tearing a rival down. With Dole and Bush, their very familiarity may breed not contempt but indifference. What better way to distinguish oneself than to take the other fellow down a peg or two? In the end, any real debate can get lost in the static.

With reporting by Michael Duffy and David Beckwith/Manchester