I suppose I should get to the point where I don't let anything surprise me anymore. But waking up to realize that I'm in agreement with radio shock jock Howard Stern was not something I ever anticipated.
Yet I have to say: it's hard to argue with Stern's recent assessment of the political rumors circulating around two Hollywood stars.
In recent weeks, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson has fueled speculation that he is considering a run for the presidency, while Matthew McConaughey has hinted at being the next governor of Texas.
Questioning that idea, Stern stated the obvious:
"You know what it is with these guys is that they don't understand, once you run for office, you actually have to give an opinion?"
Correct. Both men are immensely popular because:
- They're perceived as cool dudes
- They're desirable to the opposite sex
- They're living wealthy, enviable lives
In other words: the very qualities that made someone popular in high school. Some things never change.
But there's a reason that your high school class reunions – the ones organized by the popular, charismatic cool kids – are such epic disasters every 10 years. Charm does not equal competence.
As Stern points out, these celebrities' appeal is predicated upon a movie screen persona, not one that has done the difficult thinking and discerning on matters of any consequence or controversy. The clientele of Entertainment Tonight isn't overly concerned with knowing the tariff policy of "Dr. Smolder Bravestone" from Jumanji, after all.
Simply consider the first thing either of those two men will have to do if they seek public office: choose a political party.
In the hyper-partisan moment in which we live, that move alone will cost them the loyalty and love of roughly half the population. Perhaps they will try to avoid that by declaring themselves independent. Even then there will come a time when they will have to differentiate themselves from their opponents by providing policy answers.
Once McConaughey takes a question from constituents on gun control, things will get really dicey, really fast for the dude best known for chilling in a Lincoln.
"As soon as he answers that," Stern said, "half of Texas is going to take him and throw him out a window."
Ditto that for Johnson, who right now is free to speak generically about unity and mutual respect: topics that will please everyone all the time. But the first time he tells people what he thinks about, say, whether it should be legal to commit homicide against unborn children in America, unity will be body-slammed to the mat.
Of course, it is possible that one or both men could survive a campaign by adopting the Barack Obama approach. As one of the most woefully unprepared presidential candidates in American history, Obama almost never discussed policy on the 2008 campaign trail. Instead, he opted for an unending procession of catchphrases, sloganeering, and empty rhetoric. "Hope and change" was nothing more than a blank canvas that voters were encouraged to project their own wishes and desires upon. If "hope" meant this, Obama was your guy. But if it meant that, Obama was also your guy.
Once in office, Obama then spearheaded one of the most divisive and polarizing administrations the country has experienced. And for those who would assign that label to Donald Trump, remember: if there had been no Obama, there would have been no Trump.
That's why – as Stern is busy warning his fellow celebrities – I'll issue a warning to my fellow countrymen: with few exceptions, celebrities don't make good leaders. Yes, Reagan was an actor, but he was also intricately involved in politics from his early adult years and was no stranger to issues of the day.
Those who see political leadership as a natural progression or the next logical step up from celebrity don't have a proper understanding or appreciation for the seriousness of the role.
Our greatest president, George Washington, famously entered office with extreme reluctance, fearing that his countrymen would expect too much of him.
"My movements to the chair of government will be accompanied with feelings not unlike those of a culprit who is going to the place of his execution," the father of the nation wrote to Henry Knox in the spring of 1789.
Just over 230 years later, multimillionaires are vying and angling for the job with the somber composure of feral cats.
I admit that part of me wants to say, "What are the odds they could actually do a worse job?" But the other part is petrified at the thought we might ever have to find out.
