The Scrapbook is always flattered when the conventional wisdom catches up with our own prejudices. Case in point: There seems to be a gathering consensus that the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner—that annual televised schmoozefest where journalists and politicians mix in ways that nicely capture what Americans hate about Washington—may not be such a good idea after all. The New Yorker and Vanity Fair have canceled their celebrity-studded “after-parties,” and Comedy Central comedienne Samantha Bee is holding a “counter-event” the same evening.
Now comes confirmation from the Washington Post media columnist Margaret Sullivan, a reliable barometer of the mainstream consensus: The dinner “is poised to tip over into journalistic self-abasement,” she declares. “It’s time to stick a silver-plated fork in it.”
Sullivan is quite right, but alas, for the wrong reasons. She objects to the correspondents’ dinner not because it is exactly the kind of professionally incestuous social event that journalists should avoid. No, Margaret Sullivan plans to stay away because she, the New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Samantha Bee, and a host of other “White House correspondents” cannot bear the thought of dining in the same room with President Donald J. Trump.
Those who do go will of course find the atmosphere changed from recent dinners. Take one of the more tedious traditions of the WHCA dinner, the “humorous” speech—customarily at the expense of the president—delivered by a professional funny person. The speaking-truth-to-power part of that tradition largely fell into disuse during the Obama years. Instead of sharp wits indulging the fool’s prerogative to tweak the king, the comedians featured in the last eight years served up awed tributes and groveling encomiums. No more: If a comedian can be found to take the stage this year, be ready for an attitude that would make Don Rickles look like a sweetheart.
That said, it should be noted there was one sly comic during Obama’s tenure to give serious grief to the president—or rather, who gave grief to someone who, unknown at the time, was a president-to-be. And that sly comic, of course, was President Obama himself, who famously used his bit at the 2011 correspondents’ dinner to mock and belittle a minor celebrity who had trafficked in the birther twaddle: one Donald Trump. The president joked that Trump was a deranged conspiratorialist; he ridiculed the notion of Trump as a leader, laughing that deciding which washed-up actor to fire each week on Celebrity Apprentice might be fine for television, but was pathetic in contrast to presidential power. He called Trump “The Donald.” Seated there in the audience, Trump was not amused. It has been observed that the correspondents’ dinner humiliation is what sparked Trump’s fire to win the presidency.
The media types who had such great fun laughing at Trump six years ago aren’t laughing quite so mirthfully now. They might as well take a pass on the dinner this year, and instead simply congratulate themselves that the work of the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner is already done.
