It's not enough for a president to believe in things like balancing the budget. Bill Clinton sincerely believes in things like advertising (he once wrote ad copy for an Arkansas Democrat running for a Senate post) and surrounded himself with people who knew their marketing as well as their macro-economics. But Clinton also believed that it would require much more than a 30-seconds sound bite to win the election. The stakes were high, his popularity was low, and this was probably the toughest sell since the 1992 "It's the economy, stupid". mantra that became the big idea.

Not that his challenger, Bob Dole, had a more marketable concept, either. But pummelled with credibility issues regarding Clinton's private life, his dubious financial dealings as governor of Arkansas, and the Republican's usurping Congress early in his first term, there was a lot of ground to cover. He had, however, that made-for-TV charisma that was perfect for his role as Salesman in Chief, with spunk and spiel capable of selling refrigerators to Eskimos. Or cell-phones to Carmelite nuns. This was no ordinary candidate. Slogan in hand, he was always flanked by a media consultant, a speech writer, campaign staff, and an adman of a political consultant. There was one consultant just to oversee the production of TV commercials. One of his personal pollsters was extremely familiar with marketing warfare, having worked with AT&T in its fierce battle against MCI. But in addition to this remarkable human capital, Clinton had, as one journalist put it, the most sought after product to sell: optimism.

But as campaigns go, there was one ingredient lacking in the marketing mix. Something almost as important as the product itself - an ad budget. Lights, Camera, Checkbook. It's what wins seats, changes hearts, grinds the competition to the dust, in America.

Act I Scene 1 : Seek Private Investors
You'd think it's easy money. Not so. There was in place, a law that put a $37 ceiling on how much money could be spent by a candidate in the primary part of the campaign. Thirty seven million? That's peanuts in ad dollars even in the packaged goods territory. Packaging the leader of the most powerful nation demands much more than that, the campaign folk must have surely whined. His political strategists got Clinton to turn down the federal matching dollars allotted to a candidate, thereby creating a loophole that would have allowed unlimited ad money, mainly needed for expensive TV commercials. But that put the onus on themselves, and so they went to work. Accountants, lobbyists, the Democratic National Committee (DNC) staff, and everybody right up to the boss worked early and hard. Clinton and Gore attended fund-raising events that would bring in the bucks that were technically not for the Presidential campaign. Some of the dinners were small, but targeted powerful constituencies. There was a dinner at the home of Apple co-founder Steve Jobs, and even one at a Buddhist Temple in Los Angeles, where over a hundred thousand dollars was made. (See Sidebar # 1: Money Talks) Lobbyists, special interest groups, an Indonesian billionaire, and it now transpires, a Chinese arms dealer paid big money for privileges like coffee with the President. For a nice fee, some even got an overnight stay at the Lincoln bedroom. The DNC was soon able to afford $45 million worth of 'issue' commercials, dealing with the President, and his pet issues of Medicare, crime, and the economy, but not directly urging people to vote for him. This is like asking people to drive very, very safely, without asking them directly to buy Volvos.

A New York Times reporter describes the high profile meeting in the White House (attended by Chief of Staff Leon Panetta, DNC Chairman Donald Fowler, Vice President Gore, and party officials) where an extensive network of fund-raisers were set up. This would pay for the much needed product re-launch that would offset the personal attacks on the candidate. It would also depict the Republicans as
lacking in vision, and being bankrupt for budgetary plans. It would eventually reposition the stoic challenger Bob Dole as over the hill, overly dull, and as anachronistic as Ross Perot.

Scene 11: Appeal to Self Interest

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