On Tuesday, March 4, President Donald Trump entered Congress at the invitation of the Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson of Louisiana. The Democratic leadership chose to abandon the protocol of accompanying the president into the Capitol, setting the tone for an evening of norm-breaking, political gamesmanship, and unprecedented rudeness. The viewers (I subjected myself to the record-breaking 100-minute-long speech in deference to my readers) were largely partisan and about 75 per cent in most polls gave Trump a thumbs up. That should not be taken out of context. Former president Joe Biden usually scored in that area of approval as well. The annual speech has become a partisan affair and the depths reached this year have never before been seen. Sadly, Trump’s long-winded discourse included a lot of entertainment, many untruths, and information taken out of context. The president has always been blessed with enemies willing to shoot themselves in the foot, and on this occasion, they seemed to come with loaded pistols. The speech should probably return to its former format for these reasons and more.
The speech is a constitutionally-mandated message began in person with George Washington in 1790. Still, Thomas Jefferson changed that practice in 1801, choosing instead to give it to a clerk to be read to Congress. For over one hundred years the speech was presented in this format until Woodrow Wilson decided in 1913 to once again deliver it in person. After the debacle on Tuesday evening, the Democrats and the nation should want it returned to written form.
Trump opened the festivities suggesting America was back. Soon Al Green, a 77-year-old Democratic cane-wielding congressman from Texas told Trump he did not have a mandate and that he (Green) would be working on articles of impeachment against the president. Green had to be escorted out of the chamber for refusing to shut it down. The Democrats followed up that embarrassing scene with a series of stunts. Trump upstaged them, dissembled information about various matters, and forced them to reveal themselves as completely ill-prepared to face off against someone with the intuitive entertainment and comedic skills of Donald J. Trump.
Trump, unlike Ronald Reagan, who routinely gave snappy 40-minute State of the Union addresses, spoke at great length, often veering off script to reinforce his trademark calls for “Making America Great Again.” Bill Clinton set the record in 2000 with an 88-minute stem-winder. Since 1964, the average one has lasted about 50 minutes, but they are increasing in length as time passes. The last three presidents have inflicted upon the nation speeches exceeding one hour with Trump believing that saying more translates into having done more. When Washington delivered his address in 1789, the shortest on record, it had 1,089 words, around the count for this scribbler’s columns. If Republicans were as conservative as they claim they would demand Trump return to the old format, and submit a dutifully streamlined declamation highlighting his three most important objectives.
This action would serve as an example to his successors and prove he puts the nation first. He would baffle the liberal press. They would have little material to criticize and fewer examples of Trump’s reputation as a blowhard. A grateful nation would have just three points to chew on and see him in an entirely different light. He would have re-established common decency back to public life. The country would admire an attention-demanding addict like Trump going cold turkey on needing the spotlight. What would CNN and MSNBC have to complain about? The president didn’t present enough material for a thorough fact-check? They were left with two hours of prime time unfilled? Americans were looking forward to listening to Trump speak for 100 minutes about 300-year-old Social Security recipients? (A complete fabrication and misuse of those statistics if that matters anymore).
On the flip side, think about what people in the United States could do with 100 minutes not spent trying to understand why their President, the person charged with overseeing national defence, international treaties, and the Executive Branch of their government, appears to be hosting a talk show montage a la Oprah Winfrey. Everyone should agree with empathizing with a policeman’s widow who lost her husband in a terrible crime or feeling at a loss for a young girl whose athletic career was demolished to serve a weird ideology that allows size-advantaged men to play high school sports. The thirteen-year-old cancer survivor being sworn in as a Secret Service agent pulled at the heartstrings unless you are a Democratic member of Congress. That is a bridge too far. Stop it, Mr. President! We can’t stand and clap for that or any of the previously mentioned folks because you are a convicted felon, you should be impeached, and you are not worthy of the office.
Sadly, on the evening of America’s celebration of democracy, when the representatives elected from every part of the United States should be able to set aside partisanship for a couple of hours, that is an ask too large. Asking the president to find some areas of agreement and not bait the opposition seems too great a request. Asking the opposition to simply be polite and listen, to clap for what any normal human being could approve became an appeal too demanding. There the Republic’s elected representatives sat, under the tutelage of the president the country legally elected (despite every effort on the part of the opposition to prevent him from running much less winning), like spoiled brats scrolling on their phones, holding up signs, making gestures, and walking out in great protest.
Wilson’s rationale for ending the written practice in 1913 was that he thought the “presidency was more than an impersonal institution and active and visible presidential leadership was needed by both the people and the Congress. As an expression of this philosophy, Wilson delivered spoken messages to Congress, citing the authority of the Constitution” (The American Presidency Project). In the name of public decency, we need a more impersonal presidency. A presidency that returns the Chief Executive to a smaller figure, a part of the government, not its dominant attribute.
Dave Redekop is a retired elementary resource teacher who now works part-time at the St. Catharines Courthouse as a Registrar. He has worked on political campaigns since high school and attended university in South Carolina for five years, where he earned a Master’s in American History with a specialization in Civil Rights. Dave loves reading biographies.
