Substance abuse.

• Author: Georges, Christopher
• Position: Political issues of 1992

In presidential politics, more beef is sometimes less

On the left-hand comer of my desk is a pile of stuff that I plan to read in my spare time. You probably have a stack just like it (the one with the BCCI stories). Whenever my pile gets about a foot high, I bury my guilt and chuck it all. But this year is different, because it's an election year, and in that pile are documents of history: the position papers, speeches, and policy statements of the 1992 candidates for president of the United States.

At the bottom festers the first sign of campaign life, a 1991 copy of Paul Tsongas' 86page Economic Call to Arms (the one packed with "truth-telling" ideas). On top of that is Bob Kerrey's now-forgotten health care plan, not to be confused with Tom Harkin's five-point plan. Both are outweighed by the next stratum, Bill Clinton's Plan for America's Future-which brings me to 1992, where I find George Bush's State of the Union, the accompanying White House press office packet, and the 1993 federal budget. At the surface, barely dusty, are the speeches, issue papers, and debate transcripts that prove that even with the campaign in full swing, there's always room for another idea.

Ah, substance-it's one of the few pieces of good news about Campaign '92. Sure, the contest devolved into debate over personal foibles as it swung through New York, but these candidates have been talking policy as never before. Clinton's booklet reads like it was lifted from the Kennedy School's reserve reading: "By raising the ceiling on mortgage loans eligible for Federal Housing Administration insurance to cover 95 percent of the median price of a home in every metropolitan area. . . ." Then there's Bush's plan for "liberalized treatment of depreciation under the Alternative Minimum Tax," and his call for a "modified passive loss rule for active real estate investors."

It's policy-wonk heaven-and it's apparently what the people demand. For one two-week period in January, Clinton's policy pamphlet was more popular than any book on The New York Times best-seller list: 200,000 copies were ordered in the days leading up to the New Hampshire primary. Even in traditionally cynical New York, when voters were asked, "Which qualities mattered most in deciding how you voted?" the most common response was "specific ideas"-well ahead of honesty. The press, reflecting the national mood, has filled its pages with issue forums, debates, and sober analyses. Overwhelmed, I surrendered about four weeks ago and flipped on MTV. On came its political analyst, Newsweek's Jonathan Alter, droning on about defense spending.

We asked for beef and we got it: hamburger deluxe. So why am I still hungry?

I'm glad to know that Clinton wants to build "houses with thicker walls and windows, and new compact fluorescent lightbulbs." It's great that he stumps for government-to-government relations between Indian tribal governments and the federal government." And what would we do if Bush didn't have a passion for "an enforceable cap on the growth of unfinanced `mandatory' spending"? But what's lost in this white-paper maelstrom are specific, well-thought-out plans that truly illuminate the candidates' ability to govern: details in areas such as defense cuts, deficit reduction, and welfare reform. There, if you take a close look, the candidates are fudging, flip-flopping, and faking all the way.

Turning on the policy spigot full blast helps a candidate in three major ways. First, it helps him sidestep the bigger, tougher issues-the ones where a brave stand will likely alienate some voters Oust ask Tsongas). Second, it's a swell way to coddle special interests. (See, homebuilders and fluorescent light manufacturers, Clinton wants to up your income.) And third and most important, it's a useful smoke-screen for what might be labeled political character - character that goes beyond college drug use, marital infidelity, even avoiding the draft or tinkering with ethics laws. As today's candidates invent new "policy" and then remake it as they go along, we tend to forget the substance that matters: the ability to stand by a few core political convictions.

The political character test seems especially relevant today, as voters in the Democratic primaries seriously weigh one candidate whose reformist stands on issues from tax cuts to labor-coddling have slowly been reduced to mush against another candidate who, after a series of sensational transformations, now trumpets his lack of conviction as a virtue. (The winner will go on to face the master of the fast-change, George Bush.)

Bill...