Maybe it's because I'm in the final stages of getting the magazine to the printer and am thinking best with a red pen in my hand, but it struck me last night that the startling new diplomatic developments that began emerging the day before yesterday were not so much fully incorporated into the president's speech as they were tacked on at the end. This gave the address a confusing inconsistency.
For at least two-thirds of the 17-minute speech Obama told us why we should use force to punish the Assad regime for using chemical weapons against its own people — and then for the next five he told us that the vote to authorize such force was postponed in order to explore a diplomatic solution. We in the journalism biz call this burying the lead.
This didn't just confuse me; it made me feel used. As George Orwell pointed out 67 years ago in his essay "Politics and the English Language, "...[T]he decline of a language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause..." As he noted a few paragraphs later, "[I]f thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought."
Perhaps there is no hope for political speech. Orwell didn't think there was. "In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defense of the indefensible," he said. It's hard to believe that the world has improved much in the last seven decades.
But if last night's explanation had been more honest from the start, it would at least have gotten my attention. And perhaps even earned my respect.