State of the Union: A Step Toward Political Redemption or Just Another Pep Rally?

This annual presidential message to Congress -- mandated by the Constitution and ritualized by two centuries of flag-draped patriotism -- is part policy speech and part bipartisan celebration of democracy. It is an evening when everyone knows his or her assigned role:

Begin with the network anchors solemnly reciting the clichés of the moment: "Tonight's speech, a defining moment for Barack Obama, will be the president's best chance to hit the 'reset button' after the Democrats' stunning setback in Massachusetts." Moments later the House sergeant of arms will bellow: "Madam speaker, the president of the United States." The cameras will then follow Obama as he slowly makes his way down the House aisle, sharing handshakes and hugs with backbench legislators so desperate for their five seconds of TV time that they have been in place since the Nixon administration.

Flanked by Nancy Pelosi and Biden, Obama will speak from the House rostrum for the third time in his presidency with the stripes of an over-sized American flag in the TV background. The Democrats in the chamber will respond to virtually every sentence in Obama's speech -- even the most banal conceits -- with spontaneous (yeah, sure) applause and standing ovations. As the party out of power, the Republicans will boast a wider array of strategic options: derisive silence at every Obama policy proposal; mild hand-clapping to signal agreement with amorphous goals ("We must work together to reduce the deficit"), and enthusiastic across-the-aisle applause at every mention of U.S. troops serving abroad. But make no mistake, Joe Wilson shouting, "You lie," during Obama's health care speech to Congress was not part of the official GOP playbook.

The pep rally pyrotechnics surrounding the State of the Union Address has its silly moments -- none more ludicrous than the sound-bite serenade of predictable partisan platitudes after the speech. Just once I would love to hear a Republican legislator say on camera, "You know, listening to President Obama, I changed my mind" or a Democrat admit, "After that disappointing speech, I began wondering why I ever voted for him."

There is also a serious justification for the formal pageantry surrounding the State of the Union address, which has been delivered in person by every president since Woodrow Wilson. At a moment when genuine bipartisanship in Congress is teetering on the brink of extinction like the American jaguar, it is worth maintaining the pretense that the principles that unite us as a nation transcend the politics that divide us as a people. The acknowledgement (or sometimes simply the TV introductions) of the selected guests sitting in the balcony with Michelle Obama is a way of honoring exemplary behavior (Captain Sully Sullenberger was in the balcony last year) in a nation that does not grant knighthoods nor elevate life peers to Parliament.

But most of all, the State of the Union gives every president an annual opportunity to make a sustained argument to the American people without the atmosphere of crisis surrounding an Oval Office address or the idiosyncratic dynamics of a White House press conference. In a short attention-span nation, where text messaging at the movies is fast becoming a national sport, an hourlong primetime presidential address is an opportunity to be savored nor squandered. In the past, too many State of the Union addresses have been cluttered by the bureaucratic need to mention virtually every program in the federal government, down to an obligatory shout-out about the Agriculture Department's soil-bank efforts.

Since the Massachusetts massacre (have I mentioned that this was the only state that George McGovern carried in 1972?), Obama has gotten more unsolicited pieces of advice than a high-school valedictorian trying to choose a college. The problem facing Obama is that he seems to be following all of them -- even when the suggestions for jump-starting his presidency are contradictory.

Speaking at a town meeting in Elyria, Ohio, last Friday, Obama tried on populist anger like a borrowed set of overalls as he used the word "fight" and its close variants 20 times. When he declared, "So long as I have the privilege of serving as your president, I will not stop fighting for you," that was not authentic Obama-speak. It was Democratic-political-consultant-speak as the president suddenly morphed into an inauthentic combination of Dick Gephardt and Al Gore (during his the-people-versus-the-powerful 2000 campaign).

Then, in a TV interview with ABC's Diane Sawyer, Obama disingenuously tried to distance himself from the unpopular let's-make-a-deal politics that greased Senate passage of his health care bill. "I didn't make a bunch of deals," Obama insisted. "There is a legislative process that is taking place in Congress, and I am happy to own up to the fact that I have not changed Congress." But it strains credulity to believe that Obama (or, at least, White House chief of staff Rahm Emanuel) was not being briefed constantly by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid about the blandishments used on recalcitrant Democrats like Nebraska's Ben Nelson. Just two weeks ago, Obama met with labor leaders at the White House in a two-hour session that came up with a deal (correction: a plan) to treat unions differently from other employers in the taxation of Cadillac-level health care plans.

During that ABC interview, Obama said (using words that probably sent a chill down the spine of every Democrat holding public office in Washington), "I'd rather be a really good one-term president than a mediocre two-term president." But Obama immediately followed up by leaking in advance of the State of the Union address a gimmicky budget proposal that smacks of political panic (a hallmark of mediocre presidents) rather than bold leadership in the midst of the Great Recession. Turning his back on Keynesian economics, which argues that massive government spending is the best cure for a deep downturn, Obama embraced green eyeshade arithmetic, which is best employed in the midst of a buoyant recovery.

The Obama plan for a freeze in discretionary domestic spending would only trim $15 billion from the 2011 budget (assuming Congress complies) -- chump change compared to an anticipated $1-trillion deficit. But peddling the idea that out-of-control domestic spending is the primary cause of the deficit (rather than, say, the George W. Bush tax cuts, two wars or the collapse in federal revenues because of the recession) merely plays into the simplistic anti-government rhetoric of the tea party movement. When Obama congratulates himself tonight on his proposed three-year freeze on domestic spending, ask yourself how many voters watching automatically think that the president is talking about welfare benefits and food stamps.

All newly elected presidents go through a wrenching readjustment as they belatedly learn that there are no charmed lives in the Oval Office. The test of a successful president is how he behaves after discovering that Prince Charming only lives in the fairy tales spun by his most ardent supporters. After the Massachusetts mauling (have I mentioned that a Republican won Ted Kennedy's Senate seat?), Obama can find consolation in knowing that tonight's State of the Union Address can serve as the first step towards political redemption. What Obama does with this opportunity . . . well . . . let's just say that it will be a "defining moment."