Meeting Up
It takes a lot of money and behind-the-scenes work to put on political conventions and government conferences, but despite some grumbling, most people seem to think it's worth it.
The back-to-back political conventions this summer offered strikingly different visions for government and the country, but behind the scenes they were strikingly similar. Both were massive logistical undertakings.
Each host city -- Denver for the Democrats and St. Paul, Minn., for the Republicans --received $50 million in federal taxpayer dollars to pay for security. That money allowed the Secret Service and local police forces to set up temporary fortresses around each convention site. Perimeter fences were erected overnight two days before conventioneers gathered, creating a walled Forbidden City with the sports arenas-turned-convention halls as the inner palaces. Transportation Security Administration screeners staffed entry gates into each fortress, complete with X-ray machines. Army guards handled vehicle entries, checking under car carriages with mirrors on poles and casing the vehicle bodies with K-9 units. Private security workers and volunteers stood at posts within the security perimeter checking credentials -- allowing fewer people access as they ventured closer to the podium where party leaders gave their speeches.
Each convention involved more than a year of planning. Both parties had to develop a plan for converting sports arenas into convention halls. That meant hanging additional rigging from the ceiling for lighting and audio equipment, and building special wooden risers for camera stands, production booths and television screens. Even the print and online press needed custom-built stands with extra power lines and communication wires so they could file their stories from the convention halls.
Stages had to be designed, built and tested. Mazes of backstage rooms for makeup, teleprompter practice, speechwriting, stage management, green rooms and holding areas for speakers and guests had to be prepped. In each arena, upper level booths had to be reconfigured to accommodate the major broadcast and cable news networks' temporary on-site studios.
Each party had to arrange housing and transportation for the thousands of their faithful and the attending media. That meant reserving nearly every hotel in the two metropolitan areas, booking buses and shuttles from the airport to the hotels to meeting spots and the convention halls. It entailed dealing with the grumbling of this delegation or that media outlet about why they were stuck 20 miles outside of town. And it required treating each group like a jigsaw puzzle piece, trying to fit them all into the frame of the local accommodations -- even though they didn't quite match up.
All that for a four-hour television miniseries of political speeches broadcast nightly at 10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.
Of course much more than that occurred. Political up-and-comers schmoozed, the parties developed platforms, and each nominated its presidential and vice-presidential candidates.
But even before the fireworks exploded and the balloons dropped, some Democrats and Republicans alike raised the quadrennial question that accompanies their conventions. Why bother? It's a lot of work and hullaballoo -- and taxpayer money -- for such fleeting events.
Why not send the preordained nominees to a Hollywood set, point the cameras and let them talk for an hour? Why not conduct party business by videoconference or online? Or simply certify the nominees on paper after the last primaries, and let the candidates barnstorm the country?
For that matter, why have any meetings at all? The federal government spends billions of dollars each year on meetings and conferences, including travel and accommodations and other logistics. Uncle Sam could save it all and still get work done or training completed -- online, on paper, or over the airwaves.
The problem seems to be an innate human need to congregate, to interact and to experience things together, in-person and live. It might take a lot of behind-the-scenes work to make it happen, but despite some grumbling, most people seem to think it's worth it.
So they keep doing it.
Brian Friel is a National Journal staff correspondent and covered management and human resources at Government Executive for six years.
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