misstating facts, wandering off topic, and reinforcing the Democratic charge that he was too old for the job. The Reagan inner circle, led by his wife, Nancy, blamed Reagan’s debate coaches and handlers for failing to prepare her husband. They were especially angry at David Stockman, the young director of the White House Office of Management and Budget, who had been tapped to play Mondale in rehearsal debates and had gone after Reagan so hard that, at one point, while talking about Social Security, the president lost his customary geniality and shouted at Stockman to shut up. Nancy Reagan thought the mock debates had undermined her husband’s confidence. So did the head debate coach, Richard Darman. Ailes was called in.
Reagan biographer Lou Cannon describes the intervention:
Ailes knew that Reagan needed praise, not criticism, and interrupted the first rehearsal of the [second] debate to declare that the president had just given a “terrific answer” to some minor question. . . . Ailes told the president not to bother with facts and figures but to concentrate on the big themes. And he frankly raised the subject everyone had been avoiding: Reagan’s age. He told Reagan that the entire country was now wondering if he was past his prime. He needed a response to that. Reagan came up with a quip, which he used at the second debate: “I will not make age an issue of this campaign. I am not going to exploit, for political purposes, my opponent’s youth and inexperience.”
Even Mondale laughed, and the issue of Reagan’s age disappeared. Ailes, who had learned from his McGinniss experience to stay in the background, did not take credit for the change. He didn’t need to; everyone in Washington knew.
Ailes became a favorite of the Reagans, who grew comfortable enough with him to permit an occasional glimpse past their “Ronnie-Mommy” image. “We were taping an antidrug commercial,” Ailes recalls. “It was probably the first time they had acted together since
Hellcats of the Navy
in 1945. Nancy kept giving the president line readings—‘do this, do that’—stopping the teleprompter and the tape. I could see that the president was getting pissed off at her and finally he said, ‘You know, I’ve actually done this before.’ Nancy glared at him and marched out of the room. Reagan and I just stood there, looking at each other, and I was thinking, What the fuck happens now? The commercial was written for two people, and one of them was gone. I said, ‘Mr. President, what are our plans?’
“Reagan didn’t bat an eye. He said, ‘Let’s watch the football game. She’ll be back in fifteen minutes.’ I forget who was playing but we sat there and watched, and after fourteen minutes and fifty seconds, Nancy walked back into the room. She was chilly but professional—they were both actors when you come down to it, and we finished the shoot with no more problems. People say that Nancy ran him, and maybe sometimes she did, but I saw a different side of that relationship.”
In 1989, Ailes published
You Are the Message
, a book that still earns royalties more than twenty years later. (This is rare—trust me.) A review on CNN called Ailes “one of the best debate coaches in America.” In macho style, he began the book with a story about how he stared down and tamed Charles Manson during a prison interview.
You Are the Message
was aimed primarily at corporate executives who wanted to improve their public performance, especially on television. The prescriptions have an unmistakable Fox News flavor. To be a really good communicator, Ailes wrote, “you have to be punchy and graphic in your conversation—at least some of the time—to hold people’s interest.”
He also offered advice to would-be politicos. “There are heart issues and head issues. You can talk about taxes and roads and those are head issues. They require intellectual conceptualization. But if you start talking about abortion, missing
Reagan biographer Lou Cannon describes the intervention:
Ailes knew that Reagan needed praise, not criticism, and interrupted the first rehearsal of the [second] debate to declare that the president had just given a “terrific answer” to some minor question. . . . Ailes told the president not to bother with facts and figures but to concentrate on the big themes. And he frankly raised the subject everyone had been avoiding: Reagan’s age. He told Reagan that the entire country was now wondering if he was past his prime. He needed a response to that. Reagan came up with a quip, which he used at the second debate: “I will not make age an issue of this campaign. I am not going to exploit, for political purposes, my opponent’s youth and inexperience.”
Even Mondale laughed, and the issue of Reagan’s age disappeared. Ailes, who had learned from his McGinniss experience to stay in the background, did not take credit for the change. He didn’t need to; everyone in Washington knew.
Ailes became a favorite of the Reagans, who grew comfortable enough with him to permit an occasional glimpse past their “Ronnie-Mommy” image. “We were taping an antidrug commercial,” Ailes recalls. “It was probably the first time they had acted together since
Hellcats of the Navy
in 1945. Nancy kept giving the president line readings—‘do this, do that’—stopping the teleprompter and the tape. I could see that the president was getting pissed off at her and finally he said, ‘You know, I’ve actually done this before.’ Nancy glared at him and marched out of the room. Reagan and I just stood there, looking at each other, and I was thinking, What the fuck happens now? The commercial was written for two people, and one of them was gone. I said, ‘Mr. President, what are our plans?’
“Reagan didn’t bat an eye. He said, ‘Let’s watch the football game. She’ll be back in fifteen minutes.’ I forget who was playing but we sat there and watched, and after fourteen minutes and fifty seconds, Nancy walked back into the room. She was chilly but professional—they were both actors when you come down to it, and we finished the shoot with no more problems. People say that Nancy ran him, and maybe sometimes she did, but I saw a different side of that relationship.”
In 1989, Ailes published
You Are the Message
, a book that still earns royalties more than twenty years later. (This is rare—trust me.) A review on CNN called Ailes “one of the best debate coaches in America.” In macho style, he began the book with a story about how he stared down and tamed Charles Manson during a prison interview.
You Are the Message
was aimed primarily at corporate executives who wanted to improve their public performance, especially on television. The prescriptions have an unmistakable Fox News flavor. To be a really good communicator, Ailes wrote, “you have to be punchy and graphic in your conversation—at least some of the time—to hold people’s interest.”
He also offered advice to would-be politicos. “There are heart issues and head issues. You can talk about taxes and roads and those are head issues. They require intellectual conceptualization. But if you start talking about abortion, missing
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