The Real Romney (43 page)

Looking ahead to 2012, Romney concluded that he needed a different kind of campaign. He looked again to his close circle of advisers in Boston, who had learned from their mistakes and grown and changed in the intervening years. One group had helped Republican Scott Brown achieve a stunning victory, winning the U.S. Senate seat formerly held by Ted Kennedy. Another group had played a key role in midterm election victories by Republicans across the country. In preparation for the second try, Stuart Stevens, who came with years of experience in presidential campaigns, moved to Boston and was empowered as chief strategist. The two bickering media teams of 2008 were reduced to one. After spending $2 million to win Iowa’s straw poll in 2007, Romney would refuse to participate four years later. Instead of spending millions of dollars on early campaign ads, he would hoard his campaign cash. And rather than devoting countless hours to wooing evangelical leaders, he would say that the time for discussing his religion had come and gone. Read Article VI of the Constitution, he would say, quoting it: “No religious test.”

In a frank admission, Romney acknowledged that his major mistake in 2008 had been quite simple: he had failed to get across what he was really all about, a problem he had also identified after his 1994 Senate race. Once again, he had lacked definition. “I think that one of the things that’s very important in running a campaign is to make sure that you’re known for the things that really motivate you,” he said. “And I needed to do a better job to focus my campaign on the economy and getting the economy right and creating jobs. And whether through my ads or through my responses to debate questions or on the stump, my power alley is the economy.”

This time, his aides said, Romney would play to his strengths every possible minute. It would be a calculated risk, though. He still had no strong foreign policy credentials. Social issues would remain important to many in the Republican base. Conservatives disliked his Massachusetts health care plan, notwithstanding his promise to repeal “Obamacare” if elected president. And his career as a leveraged-buyout specialist could backfire if voters still saw him as more in tune with Wall Street than with the squeezed middle class. But if the economy remained the dominant issue, then perhaps, just perhaps, he and his team thought, the pieces of the puzzle might fit.

B
efore making the leap in 2012, Romney first consulted with Ann, as he had always done. She told him that he should go for it, and without regret. He also wrote a book,
No Apology
, that revealed little about himself or his family but was filled with policy prescriptions that, like campaign white papers, provided a sketch of his conservative principles. With so many people asking where he really stood, Romney now had something concrete that he could show. It’s in the book, he’d say. Just read it.

It’s telling, though, what Romney didn’t emphasize.
No Apology
concluded with a list of sixty-four “action steps” that formed what he called his “agenda for a free and strong America.” There is no mention of abortion or same-sex marriage on the list, although he did make room for recommendations such as “Adopt dynamic regulations.” In the text of the 309-page book, he only briefly referenced his “unapologetically pro-life” stance and his “opposition to same-sex marriage.” Asked why he put so little emphasis on social issues, which had played such a significant role in his 2008 campaign, he responded blandly, “It’s always a great interest on the part of those questioning a candidate to know where they stand on social issues, but I don’t know it’s a topic that’s going to be resolved with rhetoric and analysis. It’s rather a topic where one has one view or one has the other view and you’re not going to persuade someone.” In other words, that wasn’t a battle he planned to wage this time around.

On April 12, 2011, Romney entered the Harvard Club in New York City, which advertises itself as “the city’s most exclusive private club,” and appeared before more than a hundred of the country’s most powerful and wealthy Republicans. Most in the audience had pledged to raise a minimum of $25,000 from their friends, and many were expected to raise much more. They included Wall Street traders, executives, and others who liked Romney’s business background and applauded his approach to economic issues. With their help, Romney told the gathering, he could raise tens of millions of dollars and be on the road to the White House. The gathering underscored Romney’s decision not to distance himself from Wall Street and the business world. At the same time, he kept a distance from some elements of the Tea Party. He praised the Tea Party’s concerns about big government and endorsed some of its candidates but also said that voters should be wary of the “temptations of populism.” “The populism I’m referring to is, if you will, demonizing certain members of society: going after businesspeople, going after Wall Street, going after people who are highly educated, people who are CEOs,” he said. “That kind of ‘all of our problems are due to that group’ is something that is unproductive.”

There was no doubt that Romney was, to some degree, speaking in self-defense, given his long ties to Wall Street and the investment community and his two Harvard degrees. At the same time, he began making a better effort to connect with regular people. In the 2008 campaign, his staff had argued with a Florida adviser who wanted the candidate to take off his tie when meeting with retirees. In this campaign, as he prepared for an interview by Piers Morgan on CNN, Romney solicited his wife’s advice. “I’m going to be on with Piers today, what should I wear? I think I should wear a tie, don’t you?” Ann replied, “No, no, no. Just wear the shirt you’ve got on, a blue shirt, and a sports coat.” As Romney said in recounting the exchange, “I do as I’m commanded.” And in fact, Romney has often adopted the business casual look, tieless and in simple slacks and a shirt. Sometimes he even pulls out the jeans (alternating between the fashionable Gap 1969 variety and a pair of Levi’s 514s). In 2008, his press spokesman criticized rival Mike Huckabee for inviting photographers to watch Huckabee get a trim at an Iowa barbershop. This time, Romney invited photographers to watch him get a $16 cut, posting on his Twitter account afterward, “Just got a Trim at Tommy’s in Atlanta.”

But the effort to recalibrate his image could come off awkwardly. In August, Romney climbed atop bales of hay at the Iowa State Fair and, per tradition, began hawking his message like a carnival barker. Facing a crowd that included a number of hecklers, he argued against raising taxes as a way of saving Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid. Someone in the crowd yelled, “Corporations!” Romney took the bait. “Corporations are people, my friend,” he said. “No, they’re not!” a heckler shouted. “Of course they are,” Romney responded. “Everything corporations earn ultimately goes to people.” The comment, which drew catcalls from the Left, was fully in harmony with Romney’s convictions about how capitalism works to benefit all. The phrasing seemed impolitic for a man trying to broaden his appeal to working-class voters, but he stood by the remark.

W
hen he ran the 2002 Olympics, Romney came up with a vision for the Games: “Light the Fire Within.” It was intended as a celebration of persistence and inner strength. In retrospect, it can be read as a guiding principle for Romney’s life; he has never lacked for drive. Not as the teenager who stumbled to the finish line in the race at Cranbrook. Or the missionary whose trials pushed him nearer to his faith. Or the son who spent so many years trying to match and exceed the ambitions of his dad. Or the businessman who pushed and pushed until the deals made sense. Or the governor who followed his own compass to achieve a historic breakthrough on health care.

Romney, indeed, has always had persistence, always had ambition and exceptional stamina. What he has struggled with, in politics, is exactly who he is, with decoding his political DNA. For years, he could just operate in his father’s shadow or avoid those hard questions in the private sector, getting by on brains and leadership alone. But if, as he said, his die was now cast—if he had settled on a true sense of self—he would have to prove it and stick to it under the hot glare of a presidential campaign. And sticking to one vision of what he is about has always been the hardest thing for Mitt Romney.

One autumn day in 2011, Romney headlined a fund-raiser in a ballroom of a Marriott hotel in Bethesda, Maryland. J. W. “Bill” Marriott, Jr., the chairman and CEO of Marriott International and a longtime friend, introduced him by celebrating his service on the company’s board of directors. He told the roughly 250 people there that Romney had helped save his company when it was facing economic difficulties. Now, Marriott said, he could do the same for the country. Among those in the audience was Dane McBride. Few people have a better insight into Romney’s development over the years. McBride had grown up as the only Mormon in his North Carolina high school. His childhood hero had been George Romney. Then, as a missionary, McBride had been paired with Mitt and believed from the start that this was a young man who would one day match his father’s ambition. He had attended Romney’s wedding, and they had both gone to BYU. Now he was supporting his friend in the biggest test of Romney’s life. Watching him that day in Maryland, McBride felt his mind wandering back across the years. “He was the same passionate person that I had known since we were nineteen years old,” he said.

Back in those missionary days, Romney had learned how to speak carefully, to avoid coming across as some kind of extremist from a fringe religion, McBride said. He’d learned how to work in an environment in which he was the minority, the one swimming against the tide, the one who did not have the luxury of being doctrinaire or absolute. Flexibility, adaptability, humility—those were the essential skills. But in politics, McBride lamented, finding common ground “can be interpreted as being inauthentic.” That tag of inauthenticity remained a serious risk as Romney charged deeper into the 2012 race. And there were others. For one, could the multimillionaire persuade the everyman that he knows what it means to struggle? Romney and his campaign hoped that the moment—one of great economic anxiety—perfectly matched his turnaround message. If Romney couldn’t sell that, he couldn’t sell anything.

B
ack in Salem, New Hampshire, Romney is delivering his closing argument in characteristically grandiose terms. The United States, he warns, must remain a beacon of strength and liberty in an uncertain world. “If we don’t,” he says, “freedom itself is at risk.”

He lingers on the wood floor afterward, his face framed by a red-and-blue sign that reads,
NEW HAMPSHIRE FOR MITT
. He signs a few baseballs, saying to no one in particular that he feels like a pro athlete, an aside that his sons would find especially hilarious. He crouches down to meet people at eye level. A woman in patriotic garb challenges him on tax cuts, but he dispatches her with a pointed retort. “If you want to raise taxes, that’s easy to do,” he says; just vote for a Democrat.

Slowly he makes his way toward a side door. He doesn’t have time to shake every hand. Or sign every brochure. Or give a word to the press. He has one last deal to close, and there’s a lot of work still to do. Time to go.

Acknowledgments

T
he names of two coauthors appear on the front of this book, but this is, in many ways, the work of numerous reporters and editors over the years who have helped tell the story of Mitt Romney in the pages of
The Boston Globe
. We are proud to count ourselves among them.

This book was edited by one of the best in the business, Mark S. Morrow, a
Globe
deputy managing editor. Mark’s guidance, insight, and grace are imprinted on every page. We are extraordinarily grateful for his leadership.

Support for this project came from every level of the newspaper, starting with Martin Baron, the editor of the
Globe
, who saw the great value—and service—the paper could provide by writing an exhaustive and fair-minded book rooted in the
Globe
staff’s unparalleled knowledge of Romney’s life and career. We are thankful for his vision and devotion to the craft, and to Christopher M. Mayer, the
Globe
’s publisher, for his belief in, and support for, serious, in-depth journalism in all its forms. Other senior
Globe
editors, including Managing Editor Caleb Solomon, Deputy Managing Editor Christine S. Chinlund, and Metro Editor Jennifer Peter, have likewise stood behind us.

The Real Romney
would simply not have been possible without a critical group of fellow
Globe
writers and editors. Beth Healy, whose knowledge of Boston’s private equity world is without equal among reporters, was an indispensable partner, as was Brian C. Mooney, who devoted many weeks to capturing Romney’s Massachusetts political record. The skillful hands of Neil Swidey and Peter S. Canellos, who has long been an advocate for this project, built the foundation on which much of the book rests. Michael Paulson was a constant resource for our understanding of Romney’s faith and his missionary work in France. Bob Hohler’s deep dive into the 2002 Winter Olympics was instrumental. Stephanie Ebbert’s work on Romney as a youth, family man, and politician was invaluable. And Robert Gavin and Sacha Pfeiffer’s reporting on Romney’s business career helped immensely.

At HarperCollins, our editor, Tim Duggan, understood the potential in the project from the start and, with skill and enthusiasm, guided it to swift completion. His assistant editor, Emily Cunningham, provided invaluable help and support throughout. Tina Andreadis and Beth Harper of HarperCollins publicity have championed the book with spirit, and John Jusino, Shannon Ceci, and Lynn Anderson were key partners in bringing it to light.

Janice Page, the
Globe
’s book development guru, enthusiastically guided this project from the beginning, and the
Globe
’s literary agents, Lane Zachary and Todd Shuster of Zachary Shuster Harmsworth, expertly brought the book to reality. We are also indebted to our fact checkers, Stephanie Vallejo and Matt Mahoney, whose sharp eyes never ceased to amaze us. The
Globe
’s chief librarian, Lisa Tuite, and her staff, including Jeremiah Manion, Charlie Smiley, and Marleen Lee, fielded countless research requests with vigor. Others who contributed significantly to the project’s success include Ann Silvio, Scott LaPierre, Thea Breite, and Julie Chazyn. Glen Johnson, the political editor of Boston.com, generously shared his wealth of Romney knowledge. Donald MacGillis, the
Globe
’s national political editor, and Michael J. Bailey, the deputy national political editor, were supportive at every stage. We have drawn on stories written by scores of
Globe
writers over the years, but a few names stand out: Mitchell Zuckoff, Ben Bradlee, Jr., Charles Stein, Frank Phillips, and Scot Lehigh. Carolyn Ryan and David Dahl also provided strong editorial leadership as Romney debuted on the national stage.

The
Globe
’s publicist, Mary Zanor, as always, provided energetic support. Assistance also was provided by Malgosia Myc, assistant reference archivist at Bentley Historical Library at the University of Michigan, and Anna Schuessler of the
Stanford Daily
. Archivists at the University of Utah and Brigham Young University also provided valuable help, as did Richard B. Anderson, Grant Bennett, and John Wright.

We conducted more than one hundred interviews in 2011 for this book, many with people who had never previously talked publicly. From Stanford classmates and Bain Capital partners to Mormon leaders and 2008 campaign aides, we are deeply grateful to everyone who made time for us and saw the value in a complete, independent biography, including many sources who requested anonymity and whose names do not appear in this volume. Romney’s cousin Mike Romney graciously took Michael Kranish on a tour of the Mormon colony in Mexico established by the Romney family. Essdras M. Suarez, a
Globe
photographer, was a delightful companion in retracing the journey of Romney’s ancestors in the American Southwest and Mexico.

From Michael Kranish:

I am grateful to the
Globe
’s Washington bureau chief, Christopher Rowland, for allowing me to step aside from many daily duties and work on this project. He and my Washington colleagues were a source of much wisdom. They include Matt Viser, who followed Romney on the campaign trail; Donovan Slack, who monitored Romney’s campaign money; and Tracy Jan and Bryan Bender. I am also indebted to my family for allowing me to keep the “Author at Work” sign on the door and understanding the press of deadlines and passion for this type of project, as they have since I worked a similar project for the
Globe
about John Kerry and then for an independent book about Thomas Jefferson. My wife, Sylvia, and daughters, Jessica and Laura, are always on my front page. My mother, Allye, who owned a Scandinavian design store one block from the White House, and my late father, Arthur, the first Washington journalist in the family, fostered my interest in presidential politics and history from the earliest days. To my fellow reporters and editors at the
Globe
, you are an inspiration, daily.

From Scott Helman:

I would like to thank my editors at the
Globe
magazine for freeing me, without complaint, to work on this book and seeing its value, starting with Anne V. Nelson and Doug Most, but also Francis Storrs, Veronica Chao, and Melissa Schorr. All have been enthusiastically supportive. My wife, Jessica, was a voice of love and support from the beginning, abiding, with my sons, Jonas and Eli, many nights and weekend days with me holed up in the attic. I’m forever indebted to my parents, Kay and Larry, whose midwestern values—and memories of Michigan’s George Romney, albeit from the superior state to the south—informed this book in more ways than they know. And to my
Globe
family—a heartfelt thank-you for all you’ve taught me.