West Wing NBC Wednesday 9 pm/8 central

Reviewed by Jeff Riley


February 16, 2000


Once again, The West Wing has given us a profoundly inaccurate and misleading portrayal of the power held by senior members of the White House staff. As I've noted before, The West Wing has a tendency to exaggerate the power of senior White House staff -- and this time, the show has really pushed the envelope. It's simply inconceivable that any White House staff member could get away with the crude power plays made by certain senior staff members -- most notably, Deputy Communications Director Sam Seaborn -- in this week's episode.

The story focuses on the nomination of a Supreme Court Justice. Every nominee to the Supreme Court must be confirmed by the United States Senate, a process in which the White House staff is deeply involved. There's an extensive vetting procedure, orchestrated by the Office of Counsel to the President, to assess the personal and professional backgrounds of potential nominees. In fact, there are several lawyers at the White House who are generally assigned full-time to the judicial nomination process. (The President not only nominates all Supreme Court Justices, but all other federal judges, as well.) While the task is difficult and time-consuming for the White House staff, it tends to provide the public with good drama every few years, whenever a controversial person is nominated to the Court.

The most recent case, of course, was the nomination of Justice Thomas, who was accused of sexual harassment by Anita Hill. Not even a T.V. show like The West Wing could capture the intense, thought-provoking drama created by the Thomas nomination. This is not to say the writers don't try. In this week's episode, President Bartlett has nominated a Hispanic man to the Supreme Court, a maverick who's not impressed by the President or by presidential protocol. As the show opens, the nominee, Judge Mendoza, is summoned to the White House to discuss remarks he has recently made that are critical of the President. But there's a small problem. On his way, he's arrested in Connecticut for what is alleged to be drunk driving -- an arrest that turns out to be based simply on race. So instead of pubic hairs on soda cans, we are presented with a story of racial profiling.

Whatever drama that plot line might have had is overshadowed by the cocky, and patently ridiculous, antics of the five central characters who play the senior advisors to the President. When the White House staff learns of the arrest, Toby, the Communications Director, and Sam, his deputy, set out for Connecticut to get the nominee out of jail. Meanwhile, Josh, Assistant to the President for Macho, is the guest speaker at a collegiate forum, where he brags to an auditorium full of students about working in the White House for the President of the United States.

Johs's self-aggrandizing speech -- peppered with no fewer than three cell-phone interruptions -- also narrates flashbacks of recent staff missteps that have publicly embarrassed the President. It all begins when C.J., the White House Press Secretary, undergoes root canal surgery. As a result, the President ends up speaking directly to the press, and he promises that the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development will apologize for calling certain members of Congress racists -- a promise complicated by the fact that the Secretary does not want to apologize. Also because of C.J.'s dental work, Josh gives the official press briefing and makes a number of screw-ups, including falsely informing the press that the President has a secret plan to prevent inflation.

As unlikely as these events may be, the most absurd scenes take place in Connecticut, where Sam and Toby mix it up with officers at the police station. Sam charges up to the officer at the counter, brandishes his White House badge and barks that he's there on the business of the President. The cop responds, "Is this a joke?" The answer should be a resounding yes. The White House badge is a security pass, not a law enforcement badge. It confers no authority on its holder. White House staffers are not even supposed to expose the badge when outside the White House complex. It could subject that person to scrutiny or even danger if seen by the wrong person. (During the Cold War, the White House staff were strictly prohibited from wearing the badge outside of the White House, and were under orders not to speak loudly in any public forum about anything connected to the White House. Things have changed. These days, staffers must beware of bitter, big-haired suburban divorcees with multiple chins and tape recorders.)

More importantly, White House staffers are not agents of the President. They cannot walk into a police station and demand that a prisoner be freed on behalf of the President. As I've noted in previous reviews, staff members are not elected officials, nor are they approved by Congress, like ambassadors or cabinet secretaries. The White House staff have no authority over anybody other than their giddy female secretaries (a power which is also exercised with grotesque abandon in The West Wing).

The show ends with Sam bragging to the police officers that he knows missile codes. Again, ridiculous. No White House staff member knows the missile codes. Those codes are one of the few, truly well-kept secrets in Washington. What isn't a secret by now is that The West Wing's writers have a great fantasy about the power and influence wielded by all the President's men and women. And that's all it is: a fantasy.

Past Reviews

Message Boards



Jeff Riley worked as a staff assistant in the West Wing of the White House in both the Bush and Clinton Administrations for over five years. He currently works at the law firm of Morgan, Lewis & Bockius and specializes in regulatory work for the financial services industry.

Disclaimer

Ads by FindLaw