Why Not a Woman?

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The choice of a running mate is the first official act of a new presidential nominee, and the message that it communicates about the candidate is closely studied. Mondale, if he heads the ticket, would have to make a complex series of judgments. Ronald Reagan's choice of George Bush four years ago was a gesture in the direction of the party's moderates. Would Mondale, perceived as a thoroughly traditional liberal, need to make a gesture toward his party's conservatives? If he chooses a woman to be his running mate, would that reinforce his "soft" image? Further, would the choice of a woman suggest that he was, once again, giving in to a special interest group? (Of course, referring to more than half the American people as a special interest group is rather tellingly peculiar.)

Mondale would also have to calculate gender in relation to geography. Ferraro—ethnic, big-city urban, blue collar&151;appeals to the same sorts of voters that he does, and therefore would not broaden the ticket in the traditional way. Conversely, Ferraro would, in a geographical and ethnic sense, be an ideal partner for Hart.

If Mondale were considering Feinstein, he would have to factor in the "softness" image, and also think very seriously about the city over which Feinstein presides. To Americans who are not in the spirit of the place, San Francisco's polymorphous ways can be a little appalling.

There are other reasons why the Democrats may not, and possibly should not, nominate a woman for Vice President this year. It could backfire, in several ways. For one thing, if not handled well, it could come off as a political gimmick, a desperation gesture. "These aren't people who have achieved national distinction," complains a senior Democratic Congressman about the women mentioned as vice-presidential possibilities. "If we nominated one of them, we'd be saying, 'We nominated this person for one reason: she's a woman.' " In addition, choosing a woman could shift the focus of the campaign to the vice-presidential nominees, and the widely experienced Bush might outshine a less seasoned Democratic woman.

Some of the objections to naming a woman Vice President this year revolve around the vice presidency itself, and the qualifications one should expect a candidate to bring to it. The office is almost metaphysically bizarre. In some thin, Zen way, it is the most interesting office in American public life, a political antiworld: it is a condition of utter impotence that is a heartbeat away from the greatest power in the world. It is a form of political cryonics. The Vice President is, so to speak, flash-frozen and then, should the need arise, thawed out later. There is no such thing as a good Vice President or a bad Vice President—a Vice President is simply a hypothesis on hold. John Nance Garner, Vice President in Franklin Roosevelt's first two terms, said that the office "isn't worth a pitcher of warm piss"—a phrase the listening reporter bowdlerized to "warm spit."