Where's the Revolution?

The Industry Standard | March 13, 2000

John McCain was able to raise thousands of dollars on the Internet because people already knew about John McCain from TV.

Much has been made of the Internet's potential to wrest political power from the moneyed interests that dominate both Washington and state capitals. The Net, we are often told by true believers, allows ordinary individual citizens to spread the word, to organize resistance, in short, to fight the power.

And there is compelling anecdotal evidence that this is true. MoveOn.org was arguably the first political movement to garner the attention of the "politerati" when hundreds of thousands of electronic petitioners beseeched members of Congress to dispense with the impeachment of Bill Clinton and move on (get it?) to more important matters. MoveOn.org raised eyebrows when it helped raise thousands of dollars for anti-impeachment congressional candidates.

The anecdote of the moment is the Web-based fundraising surge that John McCain experienced in the wake of his New Hampshire primary victory over George W. Bush. This, we have been told, signals a new era in politics. Now renegades like McCain can use the Internet to bring down establishment candidates like George W.

All this optimism (unless you are part of the reviled "establishment") sounds vaguely familiar. When it first became clear that radio and television could be utilized as effective tools of mass political mobilization, they were considered by many to be the triumphant chariots of populism. No longer would big-city bosses -- long suspected to be in the pockets of the well-heeled business establishment -- dominate American politics. No, with the power of television, candidates who spoke for and to the people would ascend. If only William Jennings Bryan had lived on for another campaign ...

Of course, it has not quite turned out that way. Advertising on television and radio costs a fortune. And as the current debate over campaign finance reform suggests, few are more satisfied with a system that puts political influence in the hands of contributors than in the hands of party leaders. Is the Net more likely to fulfill its advance billing as a panacea?

Probably not.

At the moment, insurgent, underfinanced interest groups and candidates have more-developed Internet strategies than traditionally powerful interest groups. This is not surprising. Environmental groups, gun-control proponents, consumer advocates and other frequent losers in the current system were quite naturally the first to see the potential of a new medium and the first to devote capital and energy to its exploitation.

But in Internet politics, as in "real" politics, money is a commodity that when utilized intelligently can make up for lost ground in a hurry. Consider an area where activists have been endeavoring to use the Web: environmentalism. Suppose an environmental group mobilizes interested citizens to press for legislation that would lower acceptable levels of automobile emissions. Thousands of e-mail messages pour into Congress -- some from people who had not considered themselves "environmentalists" before happening upon a persuasive Web site. Each member gets messages from constituents making the electoral significance of the vote on the emissions bill quite plain. Don't pop the champagne bottles just yet.

What would automakers do? Nothing? That seems unlikely. First, they would mobilize the parties most interested in the fate of automobile companies: auto workers. Wouldn't that be easier if every employee had a home computer with Internet access? Most definitely. (Note to self: Call Ford to pitch ... oops, too late.) Unfortunately, this group is shrinking in number and is restricted to a few parts of the country. So the second step would be to identify other Americans sympathetic to carmakers' argument. Ideally, this group would be distributed nationally and represent a good cross-section of the population. How about gasoline consumers? They would naturally oppose any legislation if they believed it would raise gasoline prices. But how do carmakers reach them? Buy the names and contact info of people who buy large quantities of gas from credit card companies. Send them e-mail. Get them angry. Voila! Now a stream of constituent mail, e-mail and phone calls arrives on Capitol Hill assailing the emissions bill. It may even overwhelm the outpouring generated by the environmental types. And remember, Ford is not going to abandon its traditional approach. This is merely a supplement.

This is not a fantasy. There already is a community of consulting groups specializing in the use of the Internet as a tool of political mobilization. And guess who their clients are? Issue Dynamics specializes in "using the Internet to influence the media and decision-makers." Clients include America Online (AOL) , Bell Atlantic (BEL) and Hewlett-Packard (HWP) . Capitol Advantage produces CapitolWiz, "a grassroots legislative action tool." Its users include the AARP and the American Medical Association, neither currently starved for influence on the Hill.

Of course, there are consultants catering to less established groups and nonprofit operations like the Technology Project and NetAction that are helping existing grassroots organizations utilize the Internet. But grants from the Pew Trusts and other charitable foundations, the main source of funding for such programs, can hardly be expected to keep pace with the lobbying and PR budgets of Fortune 500 companies.

It's been pointed out that the power of the Internet lies in its facilitation of two-way communication. Thus, says author Douglas Rushkoff, the Internet, like the telephone, has the potential to bring people together, rather than to create a society of passive recipients, like television. True, but from the perspective of political mobilization the difference is insignificant. Much has been made of the earthy appeal of an e-mail campaign pitch from a volunteer in Nebraska made on behalf of, say, Bill Bradley. That "personal" approach can be persuasive. It can also be purchased.

The telephone simile is instructive. Political operatives have long known the power of phone banks. They are slow, inefficient and limited in scope -- but they can influence their audience. That is why campaigns pay workers to make phone calls. That is why candidates might pay people to send out "real," friendly e-mail messages that sound like they're from Aunt Bea in Mayberry. Perhaps this is depressing. But it is the way things are done. Those hand-painted signs featured at campaign rallies that look like the work of civic-minded 7-year-olds? Sorry. They're fake too.

Popular political support generated by paid consultants and operatives has been cleverly derided as "astroturf." But it is no less "real" in terms of its impression on elected officials than the genuine grassroots activity it emulates. This is likely to be true on the Internet as well.
The difference, die-hard defenders of the Internet revolution insist, is that anyone can publish their own Web site. The truly little guy now has a chance -- not just the entrenched figures with ties to the business, labor and the political establishment. Build it and people will come. But we know this is, at best, half true. Many of the most successful Internet retailers have been companies with an established brick-and-mortar identity. People get on the Web and look for Gap.com because they've been to the Gap, they know the Gap, they wear -- and want -- stuff from the Gap.

Voters saw on the news that McCain beat Bush in New Hampshire. And they heard McCain plug his site's URL at every opportunity. Would John McCain have raised all that money on his Web site if he had not already garnered the attention of the broadcast media (and already raised millions of dollars)? Quite simply, no. Does that mean it is impossible to imagine a candidate gaining widespread attention on the Internet? When a lonely Speedo-clad Turkish fellow is known to thousands of computer users around the planet, nothing is impossible. But it is unlikely.

I am not suggesting that the Internet does not have the potential to reshape politics in ways that cannot be foreseen. The famous Kennedy-Nixon debate of 1960 is remembered because it made clear that the ability of candidates to look good in front of the camera would be an essential characteristic in the era of televised politics. In the future, a campaign's Web site quality may be critical and the capacity of operatives to mobilize supporters using the Net may be key. But even if that comes to pass, the predicted leveling of the playing field so often associated with the Internet is unlikely. The Internet will likely alter the logistics of American politics without affecting its logic.