Senator, You’re No Lloyd Bentsen: The Decline and Fall of Political Wit

BY BRETT MEAD

The American political system isn’t what it used to be. With Congressional job approval numbers hovering in the teens and a culture in Washington that seems more dysfunctional with every passing day, it’s time to face facts: politicians aren’t funny anymore.

So how’d it happen? How did the famous witticisms of politicians past become the lame “zingers” of today? By my estimation, the last legendary quip to come out of the political sphere came in the 1988 Vice Presidential debates. Dan Quayle, George H.W. Bush’s running mate, had compared himself to JFK several times during the campaign. His opponent, the wily Democratic lifer Lloyd Bentsen, rose to the occasion when Quayle brought up Kennedy during their debate, replying: “Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy; I knew Jack Kennedy; Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy.” Watch Bentsen’s delivery; it’s perfect. His timing would make Louis C.K. envious. But watch any further than Bentsen’s line and the impending downfall of Washington wit is in plain view. Quayle, unable to think on his feet or otherwise, responds, “That was really uncalled for, Senator.” Quayle’s pathetic non-comeback set the precedent for scoring cheap sympathy points off any opponent clever enough to invoke the proud tradition of the political roast.

But Quayle’s not entirely to blame and neither is the usual culprit, polarization. To argue that our politicians can’t joke around because they’re too far to the ends of the spectrum is to ignore history. Surely we’re not as polarized as we were in the lead-up to the Civil War, a time that gave us our first and only congressional caning (See: Sumner, Charles), yet that same era was a treasure trove of comedic gold. For example, abolitionist senator Benjamin Wade joked that his colleague Judah Benjamin, America’s second Jewish senator and the Confederacy’s first Secretary of War, was, “A Hebrew with Egyptian principles.”

Polarization doesn’t explain the lack of intraparty roasting either. Andrew Jackson, on leaving office, infamously declared, “I have only two regrets: I didn’t shoot Henry Clay and I didn’t hang [my own Vice President] John C. Calhoun.” That Jackson probably meant it makes his statement only slightly less funny. Theodore Roosevelt, too, made comedic history with a quote about his future running mate, William McKinley, whom he quipped had, “No more backbone than a chocolate éclair.”

The sad truth is that pop culture is mostly to blame. It’s stolen our politicians’ thunder. Not that it hasn’t tried to historically: many of America’s finest historical humorists cut their teeth on the low-hanging fruit of Congress jokes (See: Twain, Mark). But never before have Americans routinely tuned in by the millions to watch late night comedy shows devoted almost entirely to politics. Saturday Night Live, no longer the titan of the comedy world that it used to be, surges back to the fore every election year while John Stewart and Stephen Colbert enjoy devoted followings regardless of the political cycle. How can our politicians be expected to keep up?

The bigger problem, though, is that they’re not even trying to keep up. Instead of writing their own material, our politicians just keep insisting that they were in on the joke all along. In doing so, they only drag our pop culture outlets of political humor down with them. Of all the election success SNL has had in recent years, it’s never had a bigger hit than it did with Tina Fey’s legendary Sarah Palin impression. But the worst of all the SNL Palin sketches was undoubtedly the one featuring Palin herself. In her cameo, Palin said nothing that even came close to a comeback. She could not, and did not, chide back in a way that showed any creative insight, nor did she address the underlying humor of Fey’s impression: her own incompetence and lack of experience. Palin’s cameo, like those of Barrack Obama and countless others, was not an attempt to heighten the humor, but rather to dull it. With a wink and a nod, those cameos tell viewers, “Hey, we’re all just joking here and I get it, too.”

To make their own jokes instead of piggybacking on SNL’s would be to risk a Quayle-like reaction from the other side. Bentsen might have won that exchange, but too few of those who’ve followed him have dared to jest with his bravado. A line as cutting as Bentsen’s would now require a counterproductive disclaimer and a post-joke apology. As a case-in-point, I leave you with this “joke” from Newt Gingrich, tweeted after a red panda’s escape from the National Zoo: “In response to red panda charges, I have an alibi, Callista and I were feeding our pet elephants all evening (just a joke) help find panda.” Lloyd Bentsen is rolling in his grave.