The state of debate: Help wanted

Is it possible we have at last reached a point where Washington, Jefferson, Adams and the rest of the Founding Fathers are turning over in their graves, wondering if they did not leave us sufficient instructions on how to operate the delicate machinery of the republic?

We are referring, of course, to the recent CNN-YouTube debate.

The multiple candidates for the Democratic nomination for president tripped all over themselves and each other in their zealousness to be the hippest, slickest, sincerest salesman of the American dream since Bugs Bunny. Uh, what's up, doc?

We know it's hard to criticize the premise of holding politicians responsible for answering questions submitted by ordinary people, except for one thing - anyone who watched Monday night's debate knows there wasn't anything ordinary about it.

From the opening minutes, when the audience was treated to a Portland resident lecturing the candidates about their penchant for evasive answers, it was obvious that what was about to take place wasn't a debate at all, but rather a cultural "come to Jesus" moment when the candidates would all swear their eternal fealty to the church of what is happening right now.

Perhaps this kind of pandering is an inevitable result of turning each presidential campaign into a two-year cable television series.

Candidates know they have to stay relevant, despite the changing tastes of a fickle public, and they know the best way to do that is by saying whatever they think people want to hear.

Yes, YouTube is a great form of entertainment.

We get to see people do and say anything for our amusement, but that's not necessarily a formula for great statesmanship.

If we are going to run presidential campaigns modeled after popular cultural icons, perhaps what we need isn't a YouTube debate at all, but rather an American Idol debate. That way we would at least get to vote off one or two of these self-deluded candidates each week.

Now that is an idea worth considering.