Ron Suskind's Confidence Men is that most frustrating of books: overlong, unclear, poorly-argued, yet ultimately worth reading. Suskind sets himself so large a task-- explaining the 2008 economic collapse and government response and at the same time offering a history of the first two years of the Obama administration-- that the book is thoroughly unfocused, with many digressions and repetitions that fascinate but don't add to the overall effect. This weak synthesis is nonetheless strong enough that the book offers an adequate overview of the economic and political history of the last few years. Yet it must be said that there are other substantial flaws. Any individual Suskind found compelling was apparently allowed to present (as most of us would) a self-serving personal account and make criticisms of the current financial system, regardless of how those criticisms might fit the parameters or the flow of Suskind's larger argument. The "novelistic writing" and storytelling gift mentioned in the back cover blurbs appear mostly in trite metaphors, saccharine recountings of individual biography, and the lazy journalistic tic of reading body language to justify preferred interpretations of behavior. Deeper than these problems is Suskind's failure to make the financial behaviors he describes readily comprehensible. Readers not already versed in the language of modern finance will get at best a general sense of how the maneuvers that led to the crisis actually worked, enough to recognize that it was an inherently unstable system but not enough to follow the details Suskind describes, often by means of unexplained jargon. This is, in a book dominated by debates about the nuts and bolts of managing such a system, no small point. Economics is hard, but much that Suskind mentions could have been made clear if his explanations had been a bit slower and more basic.
In any case, the largest problem with Confidence Men is that its guiding narrative, the storyline around which facts are shaped (sometimes to their detriment) is unconvincing. Suskind, like millions of Americans, was clearly impressed by Barack Obama's campaign rhetoric in 2008; his descriptions of that period ("brilliant speech... his particular brand of magic... precise and lyrical, heartfelt and gently clipped... extraordinary speech") may prove frustrating to those who never shared that enthusiasm. Tasked to explain the divergence between those stirring calls for change and the unambitious governance of 2009 and 2010, he decides that the speeches are more legitimate than the policies, and pursues a narrative where Obama's lack of managerial skills and the actions of a few aggressive, sometimes intransigent staffers caused an earnest desire for reform to go unfulfilled. This narrative is supported by Suskind's interviews with certain White House officials who blame Larry Summers, Tim Geithner, and Rahm Emanuel for that stagnation.
Without disputing that Obama was a poor manager who was intellectually dominated by certain advisers, one has to point out that Suskind's major sources, the heroes of his book, all wanted substantial reform themselves, which would naturally color their recollection of Obama's actions and beliefs. At one point Suskind quotes Tom Daschle on the impression Barack Obama creates: "I saw a man who listened. Sometimes people misunderstood that listening as an acquiescence to their point of view." Such misunderstandings in fact date back to the campaign, when Obama's aggressive rhetoric was accompanied by a cautious, bet-hedging attitude toward policy matters not substantively different from that of his opponents in the Democratic primary. There were observers who pointed out well before the 2008 presidential election that Obama's political profile, as distinct from his campaign method, was centrist and that he was unlikely to bring about the radical change some had imagined. This is a simpler explanation that Suskind's, because it requires no sudden change in Obama's forcefulness, only a continuity that fits his chaotic White House as well as anything else.
Suskind's most important sources, the (by political operative standards) more ardent reformers, were given secondary positions in the domestic policy structure, while those who wanted less radical change got the top spots. Suskind glosses this primarily as a managerial decision, going with tested experience over boldness, but it's also a political one. The obvious result of putting non-reformers into top jobs is to weaken the reform position in policy debates, and it's hard to believe Barack Obama didn't realize that. Modern political journalism often emphasizes personality, of which leadership style is an aspect, over ideology, but both are important in interpreting decisions, and by ignoring the ideological implications of Obama's appointment decisions, Suskind makes his own narrative seem more credible than it is.
Much is made of Obama's having his advisers debate issues in front of him so he could lead them toward a consensus position, a preference that Larry Summers' (apparent) intellectual force and preparedness allowed him to manipulate. But, again, that push for consensus is more than a leadership strategy. It's an act of triangulation, taking liberal and conservative positions and twisting them into something that seems like a compromise. Obama's fruitless attempts to shape legislation that would win large bipartisan majorities reflect a similar belief in the power of meeting in the middle. And, despite Suskind's attempt to construct a happy ending where Obama regains the courage of his imagined convictions, that approach continues today.
Suskind's final claim is that in the wake of the 2010 midterms Obama modified his managerial style and took control of his presidency. The debt ceiling crisis, which took place after the writing of Confidence Men but before its publication and was characterized by the same ineffective consensus-seeking as Obama's first two years, is strong evidence against this thesis, and it's unsurprising that Suskind can't summon up much evidence in favor. The only policy matter he mentions is the compromise that extended the Bush tax cuts in exchange for unemployment and a payroll tax cut, a development that, despite the glowing language about "taking control" that Suskind offers, is difficult to distinguish from what had preceded it. He also praises Obama's speech in the aftermath of the Arizona shootings, as if the president's ability to give an inspiring speech on a very general topic was ever in doubt.
Suskind's greatest emphasis, though, is on the staff shakeup that included the departures of Rahm Emanuel and Larry Summers. While those changes might or might not address any managerial problems in the Obama White House, from a standpoint of ideology and vision, they represent further continuity rather than major change. Many of the reforming voices also departed around the same time, and some replacements, including Rahm Emanuel's, were widely understood as signaling a greater friendliness to business, the sort of "move to the center" that Democratic presidents are forever being encouraged to undertake. It is, then, a pragmatic response to the forces exerting pressure on Obama, much as his liberal rhetoric during the Democratic primary was a response to the expectations of the party's base, and his triangulating stance during the first two years struck a balance between those calling for reform and those who wanted to extend the status quo. That sort of balancing act is, of course, business as usual for a politician. Confidence Men is an extended attempt to raise anew the 2008-vintage idea that Barack Obama is different from virtually everyone else in politics, but it founders on the hard fact that he is as responsive to the existing structures and ideologies as anyone else. There are, however, enough interesting facts woven around that unconvincing narrative to make the book worthy of careful, critical reading.
