The Future of Political “Gotcha” Moments

“The nail in a candidate’s political coffin, if not hammered in during their impromptu improv session, can also be found after the fact in what generally ends up being the ‘meatier’ section: the Q&A.”

One of the biggest changes to have ever come to the political campaign scene was the spread of “tracking,” or the jargon used by staffers to denote the practice of recording—often secretly—candidate speeches or discussions. As Ben Terris describes it in The Washington Post: “Hundreds of (mostly younger) men and women, armed with little more than a portable camera, have the awkward job of spending every waking hour filming politicians from the other side of the political aisle.” The goal is to catch the rival politician slipping and saying something incriminating.

Tracking is usually done and is also most effective at small events, ones that are technically “open to the public,” but tend to be put on by local political clubs (Think, for the Chicagoans out there, the “20th Ward Democrats” and so forth).

It’s extremely important to note the word, “technically,” because it’s what the tracker—and whoever pays them—counts upon: new candidates, especially those running for local office, tend to lack proper media training to begin with, so when they’re around a group of people that they perceive to be allies (i.e. not someone looking for a career-ending soundbite), their already-inadequate guard is lowered even further, and they’ll start to deviate from their stump script.

Enter the tracker: unlike a well-dressed reporter with logo-emblazoned and intimidating microphones and large cameras, the tracker appears to be unassuming—if not outright supportive. So the politician is more likely to let his or her guard down.

The nail in a candidate’s political coffin, if not hammered in during their impromptu improv session, can also be found after the fact in what generally ends up being the “meatier” section: the Q&A. Here, especially, is where the candidate is expected to leave the script, which is done out of necessity. Planning for every single question imaginable is impossible. Furthermore, trying to do so would come across as disingenuous and robotic. Politicians prefer to have “conversations,” which implies a warm personability and an eagerness to engage with voters.

Enter the tracker: unlike a well-dressed reporter with an emblazoned logo and an intimidating microphone and large cameras, the tracker appears to be unassuming—if not outright supportive. So the politician is more likely to let his or her guard down.