Not The Party She Planned

Doug Mills/The New York Times

Earlier today, in a crowded airport bookstore in Dallas, Texas, I watched former Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton concede to Senator Barack Obama on a hulky, flat screen TV with the sound off and the captions on. As the words slowly snaked along the bottom of the television, I noticed the sync with her voice was slightly off, giving the speech an eerily uneven timbre. With a grim sense of irony I realized this was an uncanny metaphoric coincidence, as I believe that Hillary Clinton’s inability to win the Democratic nomination was due to a profound failure in communication. She was unable to deliver a strong message until it was too late to matter; consequently she could never catch up with a competitor who, though less experienced and equally polarizing, fundamentally understood how to capture the nation’s imagination. Hillary Clinton lost her bid for the Democratic Presidential Nominee because of bad brand management.

Hillary came to the Presidential race with an odd sense of entitlement; she reeked of presumptive Democratic nominee, and this annoyed a plethora of primary voters. It seemed that once she finally made the decision to run for office, she behaved as if her decision alone was all that was necessary to win. But once Hillary threw her hat into the race, she literally threw it away. In hindsight, her presumption--her hubris--was her fatal flaw. All brand managers know there is no assumption of success when launching a new brand (even Apple’s eagerly anticipated launch of the iPhone had it’s nay-sayers and critics). It took Hillary an agonizingly long time to learn Brand Management 101: if nothing more, a brand must provide a consistent promise of a transformative experience. Yet, over the 16-month battle for leadership, she presented a myriad of messages to an ever-changing target market. She and her campaign consultants manufactured what seemed like weekly marketing platforms. They began with the inevitability of her nomination, then quickly morphed into finding her voice after she lost in Iowa and then rebounded in New Hampshire. Then they tried to compete with her long-term experience, then on to her electability via the powerful swing states, and finally, they were left to reveal what was actually authentic Hillary: a gritty, pugnacious, street smart fighter many people could relate to. As if this chaotic messaging wasn't enough, Hillary and her consultants also kept switching her “sweet spot” target market from women to students to the working middle and lower-middle class to the elderly and finally to the super-delegates. Her message and her audience changed so many times, she began to appear as if she would say anything to anyone to win. What began as a rather energetic (if over-confident) Presidential effort evolved into a scrappy, unsophisticated, embarrassing fistfight unworthy of either contender. Given her perpetually unfocused campaign management and her Zelig-like public personality, it is no wonder she ultimately lost to a well-funded campaign with a consistent message of aspiration, hope and change.

I came to the primary campaign as an “undecided;” I admired both democratic candidates. My head was with Obama, but my heart was with Hillary. I admit that most of the affection I felt for Hillary was attributed to her making history as the first significant female candidate. "So what if I don’t agree with her handling of Bill and Monica," I told myself, "She is a survivor. She can win!" But I also bristled at the idea of extending the Clinton dynasty. I was intrigued by the idea of wiping the slate of American government over the last 20 years clean and starting fresh. But I must admit that I liked Hillary just a smidgen more because we are both women. Somehow, deep down, I felt that a victory for Hillary was a victory for all women, everywhere. And though I never once uttered the words, this made me proud. It is one thing when Barbie can be an astronaut or a veterinarian or President of the United States, and quite another when a pear-shaped, middle-aged mother can do it.

I think that Hillary would have made a good President. Obviously, not everyone agrees with me. This is to be expected. But what I wasn't prepared for in the opposition of all things Hillary, was the rampant sexism. Her husband called the media coverage the “most biased coverage in history.” Her detractors pooh-poohed this as “competitive politics,” and offered witty, vitriolic one-liners in response (my favorite, the Harry Truman inspired: “if you can’t stand the heat, go back into the kitchen”). I now worry about what the next female candidate will have to overcome in order to win, to say nothing of what she will be subjected to when campaigning.

Today, as I stood in a busy bookstore in front of a silent television in the historically Republican state of Texas, a group of women gathered to watch with me. Some were old, some were young, some were somewhere in the middle. One blonde mom asked the black, female shopkeeper if she would mind turning the volume up, and she gladly complied. We watched Hillary concede with what seemed like a smile masking deep despair. It is hard to fail; it is unthinkable to imagine what it must be like to admit defeat to those who zealously applauded--and needed--your gargantuan effort. As we all stood there watching, a man behind us laughed and muttered “Evil bitch.” I whipped around; I could not believe what I was hearing. Ever the loud mouth, I tried to find the words to berate him, but I found myself uncharacteristically speechless. As I stared at him in utter shock, he laughed again, puffed out his chest, snarled his teeth and walked away. I looked at the woman standing next to me and she rolled her eyes. I turned back to Hillary as she continued, “Eighteen million of you from all walks of life: women and men, young and old, Latino and Asian, African-America and Caucasian, rich and poor, middle-class, gay and straight, you have stood with me…and I ask all of you to join me in working as hard for Barack Obama as you have for me…the Democratic Party is a family and now it’s time to restore the ties that bind us together.”

In retrospect, I am glad I didn’t respond to the snarly-toothed man. There has been more than enough bitterness in this race already. My only regret is that he left before hearing Hillary’s heartfelt, heartbreaking request.

This essay was originally published on the design blog Speak Up.