McCain's Economic Brain

"McCain poses a pat question, nods, scribbles and eventually lets Fiorina bail him out—whether by riffing on his 'classic straight talk' support of nuclear energy or boasting of his belief in 'the power of choice' to improve the health-care system. When Fiorina concluded with a two-minute speechlet on how, 'even in this short period of time you can understand why I, as a businesswoman, have entrusted the economy to [McCain],' I couldn't help but think, 'Not really.'"

Fiorina is tailor-made for McCain. Her memoir is titled "Tough Choices." McCain loves to talk about making tough choices. And beyond talking business, she performs several other functions. She's a moderate, a globalist, a woman based in California, a rational believer in technology. In other words, she embodies attributes that were once prized by the Republican coalition but that have since been driven out of it by Karl Rove and George W. Bush. She also has skills that make her perfect for a political campaign: she's a highly articulate salesperson who is always closing the deal. So it's not surprising that Fiorina's portfolio is expanding. On ABC's "This Week" last Sunday, Fiorina showed a Terry McAuliffe-esque ability to stay on message. She went far beyond her core competencies of economics and trade, striding confidently into foreign and social policy. She repeatedly highlighted the "clear places where George Bush and John McCain differ." Defending McCain's absurd proposal for a gas-tax holiday, she agreed that virtually no economist thinks it's a good idea. "But, you see, I don't think it matters. Because I think economists sometimes argue about the theory." When host George Stephanopoulos pushed back, she moved on to talk about earmarks and discretionary spending. She proclaimed her business bona fides—"I'm a businessperson. I know that incentives and competition in the private marketplace work"—and fought Stephanopoulos to a standstill on the issue of corporate tax rates. Like Manny Ramirez taking batting practice, she casually swatted McCain's pro-life record, the Republican Party's harsh anti-abortion platform, and Cindy McCain's refusal to release her tax records out of the park.

Fiorina's performance was noteworthy not just because it was good but because it was unusual. So far business leaders have been missing from this presidential campaign. Wall Street, long a source of executive statesmen, has been so damaged by the credit-crunch auto-da-fé that the usual suspects have either resigned in quasi-disgrace or are too busy raising money from the Persian Gulf to worry about U.S. politics. Hedge fund, private equity, and venture capital types, who also like to dabble in politics, are cutting a lower profile because they don't want to call too much attention to their wealth and are trying to fight off efforts to end their indefensibly favorable tax treatment. During economic boom times the public is generally quite interested in hearing what CEOs have to say, and campaigns benefit from their imprimatur. During times of bust, not so much. Fiorina is also working as a McCain surrogate partly because she hasn't landed another executive job since she bounced from HP. So expect to see a lot more of her—and of another blonde, California-based, retired-CEO: McCain campaign co-chair Meg Whitman, most recently of eBay—on the political talk shows.

© 2008