I suspect criticism of the White House Correspondents dinner will grow over the years in proportion to the event's public relations unsightliness, meaning the criticism will have no more effect than other wholesome criticisms of Washington's wretched practices, however the criticism itself will become part of the annual ritual.
The Brokaw camp will routinely ask, "Are we doing [the public's] business, or are we just a group of narcissists who are mostly interested in elevating our own profiles?" And the sophisticated camp will respond, Oh look, how cute, they're at it again, those goo-goo types--they who never concede our good and grace-filled works, such as raising $100,000 in scholarships! (Which is less than one of Karl Rove's PACs can raise before breakfast.)
We often hear journalists lecture the Beltway political class with this socio-psychological advice: If you boys were to stay in town more and socialize more and maybe become bourbon-and-branchwater buddies as they did in the old days, you'd find cooperation a bit easier. It's much harder to demonize during the day some fellow you played poker with last night.
There is at least some smigeon of truth to this, as demonstrated daily not by the politicos, of course, but by journalists themselves. Many of them go confoundingly easy on those pols who deserve unambiguous demonization because they're schmoozy members of the insiders club. Too many journalists cannot, to borrow from the old line, eat the pols' food and drink their booze and screw their women and then write against them, meaning that they indeed have no business being there.
As Dana Milbank puts it:
The dinner’s charitable origins were long ago obscured by journalists’ desire to be players--to flatter the powerful and the famous and to feel powerful and famous themselves, at least for one night. Lost in this cozy celebration of wealth and fame is the journalistic notion of holding the powerful to account without fear or favor.
Rather than " 'The All the President's Men' Meets 'Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,' " it's " 'Network' Meets 'Ragtime' "--which will ultimately produce a remake, "The Grapes of Wrath."
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