The Obama effect? Not quite

It's been said that the American media don't often cover politics in other countries. That's not much of an exaggeration. Medium-sized newspapers often have only one page of international stories, on page 4 or page 6 at best. TV news focuses on those countries with an immediate and obvious relation to the U.S. — NATO partners, China, Afghanistan, and so on.

It's not the fault of Americans. It's like this in any large country. Russia and China are good examples. There's simply enough going on inside one's own borders.

To every rule there's an exception, though. One international story that did earn some attention in the U.S. media — however briefly — was last week's election in Britain. CNN showed, live, the first-ever debates between the candidates for prime minister.

A special relationship

Britain and America don't really have many shared traditions, apart from what we eat at breakfast. But we do have a special relationship. We're close friends because of the language we share, the Brits' gratitude for our support in World War II, their preference of a transatlantic alliance over a pan-European one, and the fact that the U.S. can depend on them to tag along whenever it goes on some foreign-policy adventure.

Recently, Britain recalled our friendship by running what they called "an American-style election campaign". The BBC excitedly reported that the candidates had Facebook pages (just like Obama!) and challenged each other in proper debates (just like Obama and that other guy!).

Conservative leader David Cameron (now the new prime minister) worked the words "hope" and "change" into several of his debate answers. Liberal Democrat Nick Clegg (on whose support Cameron now depends) one-upped him by offering "the change we need" (another Obama phrase).

Whom are they kidding? Neither of these guys is the next Obama. Nor could they be, given only four weeks to prepare. Four weeks into his own campaign, Barack Obama was a total outsider. Mobilizing volunteers, motivating voters and drumming up support on social networks took him the better part of two years.

Two's company, three's a crowd

No, it was two other things that made the debates (potentially) interesting to Americans. First, Britain and America each have a two-party system — not officially, but in practice. The odds are stacked heavily against any third party mounting a significant campaign. They are stacked by the two established parties in particular, and by the voting system in general.

We saw this in the result: Nick Clegg's Liberal Democrats got almost as many votes as Gordon Brown's Labour Party, but only one-fifth as many seats in parliament. In the U.S., a third-party presidential candidate usually gets no seats at all in Congress. Any local third-party candidates are massively outspent by their established competitors.

When a third party does get momentum, as Ross Perot's Reform Party did in the U.S. in 1992, and as the Liberal Democrats did in Britain last week, it really shakes things up. The usual definitions of Left and Right go out the window, and the voters are asked: Do you care about ideology, or do you care about solving the country's problems?

The second striking thing was the uncanny role of television. The U.S. had its first televised debate in 1960, between Vice-President Richard Nixon and Senator John F. Kennedy. Those listening to Nixon on the radio felt he had a better grasp of the issues. His voice of experience contrasted with Kennedy's horrible Massachusetts accent. But those watching the debate on television (video here) saw Nixon's dour, sweating face and preferred the young Kennedy, who stayed cool and confident throughout.

So it was in 2010, with Prime Minister Brown in the role of Nixon, his multiple chins sagging and wagging every which way, his calm, reassuring voice unheeded as he faced not one, but two Kennedys calling for change.