Guess Who Doesn't Like the Press

On April 21, 2008, the day before Pennsylvania's Democratic primary, Barack Obama sat at the counter of the Glider Diner in Scranton. Senator Bob Casey Jr., who had endorsed Obama and was traveling with him throughout the state, occupied the next stool. It had all the makings of a great photo-op--home state senator, local eatery, lots of cameras. There was just one problem: those pesky reporters.

As Obama cut into his butter-soaked waffle--fork in his left hand, knife in his right--one newshound wanted the candidate's reaction to the news of the day. Former President Jimmy Carter had traveled to the Middle East to meet with leaders from Hamas. In an exchange during one of the primary debates, Obama had promised that his administration would seek to engage America's enemies--a position that Hillary Clinton had called "naïve" and "irresponsible."

"Senator, did you hear about Jimmy Carter's trip?"

"Why is it that I can't just eat my waffle?" Obama snapped with his mouth full. One reporter at the diner wrote that the candidate glared "sternly" at the questioner--the wrong kind of audacity, apparently.

"Just asking," said the reporter.

Obama, perhaps realizing how his reaction might look, offered a little smile. But he still refused to answer.

"Just let me eat my waffle."

Obama finished his breakfast, lost the Pennsylvania primary, won the Democratic nomination, and after riding a wave of media adulation unseen in recent times, is now less than a month from becoming our 44th president. And he still doesn't like the press.

At a press conference in Chicago on Wednesday to introduce Obama's longtime friend Arne Duncan as the nominee to be secretary of education, John McCormick, a reporter for the Chicago Tribune, asked Obama a two-part question about the fallout from the arrest of Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich. "First of all, .  .  . do you favor or oppose a special election to fill your vacancy?" McCormick asked. "And secondly, you told us at your first press conference after the election that you were going to take a very hands-off approach to filling that spot. Over the weekend, the Tribune reported that Rahm Emanuel, your incoming chief of staff, had presented a list of potential names .  .  ."

Obama had heard enough. "John, let me just cut you off, because I don't want you to waste your question. As I indicated yesterday, we've done a full review of this. The--the facts are going to be released next week. It would be inappropriate for me to comment, because the--the--for example, the--the story that you just talked about in your own paper, I haven't confirmed that it was accurate, and I don't want to get into the details at this point. So do you have another question?"

McCormick tried once again to ask Obama about his "hands-off" approach to filling the seat, and Obama once again refused to discuss it. So McCormick tried to get an answer on the special election. It didn't work. "You know," said Obama, "I've said that I don't think the governor can serve effectively in his office. I'm going to let the state legislature make a determination in terms of how they want to proceed."

Having tried gamely to get the president-elect to answer one of his questions, McCormick gave up. "Do you or Duncan have a better jump shot?" he wondered.

"Duncan, much better. That one's an easy one."

It was easily the most direct response Obama gave in any of his five press conferences last week, and it was probably the most direct response he has given since winning the presidential election on November 4.

Barack Obama has promised to run the most transparent White House in history. As he said throughout the campaign, this election was about us, not him. So it makes some sense that he would let us see what we will be doing. The president-elect has held a record number of press conferences, and quite naturally he has earned lavish public praise for the frequency of his appearances.

But take the time to look at what he has actually said in these engagements and you will be less impressed.