Former Aide Takes Care of Number One

That George Stephanopoulos is no dummy. In politics, as in sports and showbiz, the smart ones know when to bow out. The late Joe DiMaggio retired before age and bone spurs eroded his lofty .325 lifetime batting average. Likewise, even though his sitcom was No. 1, Jerry Seinfeld knew that “nothing” doesn’t last forever, and so he pulled his own plug.

Similarly, Stephanopoulos surely saw that President Clinton was peaking at the time of his reelection and that it was time for smart staffers to move on. The only questions for him to answer were, “How?” and “How much?”

The answer comes in his unflattering memoir about his years as a Friend of Bill, “All Too Human.” In an interview accompanying the book excerpt in Newsweek, Stephanopoulos was asked if Clinton is fit to be president. “He’s too fit to be removed, but knowing what we know now, I don’t think he’d be fit enough to be elected,” Stephanopoulos answered. Such an opinion might have been more useful to the republic if voiced three or seven years ago. Indeed, the cynicism of a man who would vouch for the president’s character not one day longer than his tenure on the White House payroll encourages cynicism in those observing his rise and rise.

Consider, for example, the speculation surrounding Stephanopoulos’ post-White House plans that began with the appearance of the Oct. 21/28, 1996, issue of the New Yorker; a puffy 13-page profile stipulated how loyal Stephanopoulos was even as it announced to the world--and to Clinton--that the White House whiz kid was planning to leave. For six weeks, Stephanopoulos let the rumoring run rampant; he was mentioned for everything from a job in corporate America to a correspondent’s slot for CBS to a possible Senate candidacy.

But every departing White House aide must avoid the perception that he or she is cashing in on connections, walking through the “revolving door” to lucrative whatevering in the private sector. So perhaps it wasn’t by chance that the first definitive news about Stephanopoulos’ plans portrayed him pursuing the life of the mind and not the good life. On Dec. 4, 1996, the New York Times reported that Stephanopoulos would be joining the faculty at Columbia University. It was “a kind of homecoming” for Stephanopoulos, the Times wrote with a hint of hometown pride.

Eight days later, in a story buried back in the Metro section of the same paper, Stephanopoulos let it be known that he would also be doing something else--a mere “second job,” according to the Times headline. And what would that would second job be? Why, it would be duty as an on-air analyst for ABC’s high-profile “This Week” Sunday talk show, although the Times described it modestly as the second half of Stephanopoulos’ “dual career.”

Oh, and then there was a third job, not even hinted at in the earlier Times stories. Just five days after the ABC announcement, it was learned that Stephanopoulos would be writing a book--for a $2.75-million advance. Such money indicated that the publisher was expecting a lot more than his opinions on NAFTA and welfare reform. But Stephanopoulos’ tell-the-news-slowly strategy meant that each successive career announcement received less and less attention, even as the dollar totals became more and more remarkable.

It’s been six decades since presidential management expert Louis Brownlow declared that White House aides should have “a passion for anonymity.” Nameless underlings may serve well, but they don’t sell many books. With that in mind, why not write, as Stephanopoulos has, that Clinton “dishonored his office”? And why not add more salesworthy spice by recalling a tiff you had with the first lady and then remember that you thought to yourself, “F--- her,” as you were leaving the meeting?

Of course, even the smartest players sometimes foul out. In that 1996 New Yorker profile, Stephanopoulos declared that “journalism, like history, like biography, is not what it pretends to be. It’s still a matter of creating a story, not merely reporting a story.” In an atypical moment of candor, Stephanopoulos seemingly revealed his own personal formula for success.

For Stephanopoulos, unguarded words may be all too rare, but they are worth remembering before plunking down $27.95 for “All Too Human.”