TV Campaign Debates: America’s Political Gift to the World

Democratic primary debate in Charleston, South Carolina on July 23, 2007. Credit: Flickr/grittycitygirl.

As the nation prepares to indulge in another round of presidential debates, let us consider an underappreciated legacy of this quadrennial ritual: the export of American-style TV debates around the world. The political tradition that John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon wrought in a Chicago studio in 1960 now extends to every corner of the globe. In some seventy-five countries television debates have become part of the electoral landscape; even fledgling democracies like Iraq and Afghanistan have incorporated candidate match-ups into their campaigns. This most American of programming genres qualifies as a worldwide hit.

In 2012 alone, live TV debates among would-be national leaders have taken place in Finland, Russia, Slovakia, France, Mexico, Egypt, Serbia, and the Netherlands, not to mention the United States. Wherever debates happen, audiences sit up and take notice. This year’s face-à-face between French presidential contenders Nicolas Sarkozy and Francois Hollande attracted some 20 million viewers -- nearly one third of France’s entire population. Figures from other nations are equally impressive. Why? Because people recognize TV debates as rare and genuine moments of high drama. In an era in which political campaigns everywhere seem choreographed and artificial, live debates stand out for their power to surprise.

The momentousness of debates virtually compels voters to watch -- if they don’t, they might miss something big. The historic 1994 debate between South African presidential candidates Nelson Mandela and F.W. DeKlerk drew millions of viewers, not just in South Africa but around the world. Seizing the moment, Mandela clasped his opponent’s hands and spoke of their shared goals as citizens of the same country. This unexpected gesture of conciliation spoke volumes about the transformation of post-apartheid South Africa, riveting everyone who watched.

Because dramatic moments in live debates are not always so positive, candidates the world over approach these events with trepidation. Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi initially refused to debate his 2006 opponent unless the program would be followed by a press conference -- a press conference featuring Berlusconi alone. The prime minister reasoned that his incumbent status accorded him this right, and only after strenuous opposition from his competitor did he back down.

A history of strong-arm tactics by politicians seeking favorable conditions underscores the need for autonomous sponsors as stagers of TV debates. In this regard, the United States serves as a positive role model for the rest of the world. America’s independent Commission on Presidential Debates, which has sponsored every general election debate in the U.S. since 1988, is the envy of debate producers internationally, who regularly consult the CPD for advice. Several years ago Jamaica established its own version, the Jamaican Debate Commission, which has published an excellent guide for staging televised debates.

Debate sponsorship elsewhere takes various forms. Australia’s first debates in 1984 were put together by journalists, but after that initial round, politicians co-opted the process and began setting the rules and conditions themselves. In Canada and Germany, a consortium of television networks produces the debates, albeit with extensive input from the political parties. Recent presidential debates in Spain have been sponsored and produced by the Academia de Televisión, a highly respected professional organization.

Beyond sponsorship, format is another key determinant of what viewers see when they tune in for a debate. Politicians in other countries subject themselves to rules that American candidates would never accept. A 2006 debate in Ecuador, for instance, ran for three hours and thirty minutes, more than twice the length of the longest U.S. presidential debate. In nocturnal Brazil, a debate that same year did not go on-air until 10:30 p.m. and lasted until well past midnight. Finnish candidates have been known to debate over two consecutive nights. Canadian party leaders debate not only on back-to-back nights, they conduct one event in English and the other in French.

A wide variety of debate formats exists internationally, from press panels to town hall forums to sit-down conversations. Presidential candidates in France and Spain engage in direct, intense candidate-to-candidate dialogue, with minimal involvement by the moderators. Party leaders in New Zealand answer questions submitted on YouTube. To a great extent, debate formats around the world tend to be cautious, even polite. In young democracies in particular, candidates generally seek to avoid direct confrontation.

In Asian countries like South Korea and Taiwan, debates have been moderated by academics, whose questions can be weightier than the topics raised by journalists. In 2002, for example, the moderator of all three South Korean debates was Professor Jaeho Yeom, a political scientist at Korea University who received his PhD at Stanford. Although journalists have been effective debate interrogators, they sometimes draw criticism for posing inane questions. In the 1999 New Zealand party leaders’ debate, the journalist-moderator asked if the candidates had ever smoked marijuana. Soon-to-be Prime Minister Helen Clark batted the question right back, responding, "Do you want to bring politics to this level?" As in America, debaters the world over have mastered the art of press-bashing.

On occasion live TV debates turn ugly. During a 2000 telecast in Mexico, candidate Francisco Labastida complained that his opponent, Vicente Fox, had referred to him on the campaign trail as “shorty,” “henpecked,” and “a queer.” “It’s not that it offends me,” Labastida insisted, “it’s that it offends Mexican families.” Yet instead of coming across as the aggrieved party, Labastida struck audiences as whiny. Things might have been worse. In Azerbaijan a live TV debate degenerated into the functional equivalent of a barroom brawl. After the two opponents began hurling water at each, producers hastily yanked the program off the air.

No such pyrotechnics are expected when Barack Obama and Mitt Romney share the debate stage in Denver on October 3. As they step into the arena, it is worth remembering that these two candidates for the White House are participating in a tradition that is American by origin and international by adoption -- one of our most successful political exports.