Carly Fiorina gives one heck of a speech.
That was my first impression, a positive one, when I caught up with her in Sacramento to chronicle her 2010 Senate bid.
She had focus, urgency and a brimming arsenal of barbs.
She presented herself as a woman of the people, at our service.
But that wasn’t my impression of her after about a week of attending her campaign events and interviewing her about her drive and desires.
Even more so than usual, the candidacy seemed to be all about the candidate. She yearned to silence all of the naysaying about her stewardship of Hewlett-Packard, to be validated by voters, to have the final say.
She failed big, losing to Sen. Barbara Boxer by 10 points.
Her response? To seek a promotion. She’s running for president.
Give her credit for dauntlessness.
But look closely and you see shamelessness, not just in the way she treats facts but in the way she treats others.
The Washington Post just published a humiliating account of her sluggishness to pay bills from that 2010 campaign.
The Post reported that one of those stiffed was the widow of pollster Joe Shumate, who died of a heart attack, “surrounded by sheets of polling data” for Fiorina, shortly before Election Day in 2010. Fiorina mourned him as “the heart and soul” of her operation, then neglected for years to fork over at least $30,000 that she owed him.
Martin Wilson, who managed that campaign, told The Post that he occasionally implored her to settle up. “She just wouldn’t,” he said.
She apparently doesn’t leave much love in her wake. Reuters interviewed about 30 people who worked for her in 2010, 12 of whom said: Never again. “I’d rather go to Iraq,” one unidentified campaign aide groused.
The Daily Beast noted that almost no one at Hewlett-Packard had given more than $200 – the minimum amount for which a donor must be identified – to her presidential quest.
She has loyalists, including some glass-half-full revisionists. From the Post story: “Her supporters cautioned that little could be gleaned from her California campaign. They maintain that Fiorina’s corporate experience is more akin to managing a presidential campaign than a bid for office in one of the nation’s most liberal states.”
In other words, the Boxer contest was small potatoes, and a leader like Fiorina is suited only to a giant spud.
For someone so caustic about others’ shortcomings, she’s awfully cavalier about her own.
“It was a mistake,” she said to me in 2010 about her failure to vote in elections in New Jersey, where she lived for 10 years, and in more than half of the 18 elections in California in which she could have participated.
She explained that she hadn’t been “running my life to seek political office,” as if that were the only reason to vote.
In the cause of others, she’s not so deft. She campaigned for John McCain in the 2008 presidential election but was sidelined after saying that neither McCain nor running mate Sarah Palin could run a big corporation. She was denying them the chops to do precisely what she had done.
In her calculus, the corporate world qualified her for governing, but government experience didn’t qualify others for the corporate world. What self-flattering, self-serving arithmetic.
It has been correctly observed that her ascent in the polls, coupled with Donald Trump’s, reflects the currency of political outsiders right now.
But it also reflects the potency of an insatiable hunger for approbation and an unshakable belief in your genius. She and Trump share that, and of course she gives one heck of a speech. She thrills to her own voice.
Frank Bruni writes for the New York Times.