The Republican Smoothie

Last night’s CNBC debate between the GOP candidates in Michigan was truly revealing of each of the hopeful’s core beliefs and policy proposals.  It was one of the most substantive discussions that stuck mostly to major issues in memory.  Easy as it might be to rate their performances or score them by “points” earned (or lost, er… uhm… due to forgetfulness), my mind wandered to how voters could magically throw them all in a blender to make a more potent if tart-tasting Republican smoothie.

Bananas. It’s too bad that Ron Paul comes off as such an old flake, but his avowedly libertarian view of classical free market economics is at the core of post-Rockefeller Republican thought.  His central point, poorly put by his rambling responses last night, is fundamentally correct: Anytime the government enters any marketplace, it creates distortions that increase costs on top of the taxes raised to pay for the program.  Smoothies use bananas less for flavor than for viscosity and structure.  Ron Paul’s observation that markets are perverted by government is an indispensable ingredient.

Fiber. Newt Gingrich’s deep reservoir of fact-rich arguments that elevate typical conservative slogans to meaningful policy proposals ensure nutritional value for a country that is not just starving for new leadership, but is malnourished when it comes to sturdy solutions.  The smoothie is just an icy milkshake without stalks of celery or kale, and the former “third-in-line” to the presidency refuses to make small talk with voters.  His seriousness is breathtaking and his answers in last night’s debate were exhilarating, particularly in his illustration, using the College of the Ozarks’ work-study program, as a counterweight to whining about the fate of current student loan programs.

Apples and oranges. Herman Cain did not, thank goodness, need to resort last night to the “apples and oranges” argument he used clumsily in a previous debate to distinguish between his proposed national sales tax and state sales taxes.  But without apples and oranges thrown in for sweetness and tartness, smoothies can wind up tasting bland or bitter.  Mr. Cain’s 9-9-9 plan (which stands for a 9% corporate flat-tax, a 9% personal income flat-tax, and a 9% national sales tax) has caught fire not just for its simplicity and voter appeal, but because it upends the Washington apple cart.  As Mr. Cain points out, lobbyists, accountants and tax attorneys will be jobless if he wins.  Other (twice-higher) flat-tax proposals put forth by his GOP rivals don’t offer near the satisfaction, and debate watchers were thrilled to see Mr. Cain get back to talking about 9-9-9.

Strawberries, raspberries. Without making too little of Rick Santorum or Michelle Bachman, not every smoothie needs them.  Only the strawberries or raspberries feel so special about being included.  In a smoothie, berry flavors are quickly lost, leaving just their tiny little seeds to stick between your teeth. Santorum and Bachman shared a shrill quality last night, boasting that various legislative proposals they each had made qualified them best to be president— not because they were made law, but because they were clairvoyant.  Bragging “I told you so” is not a distinguishing policy strategy and it’s a really weak debate point.  Pick one or the other, or neither; they won’t be missed after Iowa.

Ice. Tempted as I may be to forget about Rick Perry after he so forcefully forgot the third agency of the federal government he would eliminate, a smoothie worth its name is impossible to make without adding ice cubes— knowing full-well they will get chopped up and melt in the blender.  Without enough ice, smoothies turn lukewarm and are no longer refreshing or enjoyable.  True, debates are not the full measure of a presidential candidate, and perhaps Perry is hiding non-rhetorical gifts we can’t see from watching his glassy-eyed expressions listening while other candidates speak.  With so much coolness he could yet offer, Perry’s the GOP ice man.

And speaking of being forgetful, how can Republicans please forget Mitt Romney and Jon Huntsman?  These two are easily the most adaptable flavors in the GOP field, consistent only by their purported thoughtfulness and openness to positions and policies no Republican would dare run on in a primary.  Both are also self-made candidates, that is, wealthy heirs who have decided, seemingly altruistic, to spend their fortunes in the name of public service.  Ideological positions are just not their strong suit.  One has implied Republicans prefer to be dumb when it comes to science, and the other insists he won’t do for America what he did while governor of Massachusetts.  Only one of them, Romney, stands a serious chance of winning the Republican nomination.

If he does in fact win the primaries, sticking to this analogy a final gasp, Romney will be but the paper cup—the untrustworthy vehicle, apologetically carrying the great Republican smoothie into the general election, devoid of any flavor of his own while Huntsman stands by as the eco-friendly, bio-degradable plastic straw.