The Liberal Media Myth.

Glenn writes that, "[b]lindingly conclusive evidence which would -- for any rational person -- forever negate the "Liberal Media" myth has been piling up for years."

Agreed. It's not putative by any means, but for me the myth of the liberal media died on March 6, 2003 -- exactly two weeks prior to beginning of the Iraq War. In a little-remembered, brilliant piece in The New York Observer, Michael Crowley recounts a press conference given by President Bush:

Mr. Bush worked from a podium-pasted pre-determined list of acceptable reporters to call upon. USA Today 's Larry McQuillan, on the White House beat since Jimmy Carter, said Mr. Bush's homeroom-proctor sheet of preferred questioners managed to insult those didn't appear on it-and make those who did seem like Karl Rove's brown-nosers, the camp kids who got the best desserts. "The process in some ways demeaned the reporters who were called on as much as those who weren't," Mr. McQuillan said.

"They completely played us," added a correspondent for a major daily newspaper. "What's the point of having a press conference if you're not going to answer questions? It was calculated on so many different levels."

But to what extent where the reporters themselves to blame? Although some asked reasonably pointed questions, most did with a tone of extreme deference-"Mr. President, sir …. Thank you, sir …. Mr. President, good evening"-that suggested a skittishness, to which they will admit, about being seen as unpatriotic or disrespectful of a commander in chief on the eve of war. Few made any effort to follow up their questions after Mr. Bush's recitation of arguments that were more speech-like than extemporaneous: Saddam Hussein is a threat to America, Iraq has not disarmed, Sept. 11 must never happen again.

It was a missed opportunity. From the media's perspective, the purpose of a press conference is to hold a President accountable, to see him work on his feet, to understand his priorities, to give viewers insight into his character, to make a little news, or to allow the President to speak to the people in a responsive and human voice that a formal address doesn't allow.

That didn't happen. ...

The press corps seemed mainly to serve as a prop, providing Mr. Bush with an opportunity to deliver another pro-war speech while appearing to bravely face the music. The White House sprung it on them at the last minute: The press conference was announced that very day, giving reporters little time to prepare.

That's fair; after all, if it's a game, and Mr. Bush is in charge of the playbook, he doesn't need to reveal it. But nevertheless, there was still a faint whiff of Marshall Tito about the whole thing. When the time came, reporters were escorted into the East Room in pairs, apparently to ensure they adhered to a careful seating chart. During his appearance, Mr. Bush answered what he wanted, no matter what the questions were, and there were no follow-ups. When Mr. King of CNN asked a somewhat multilayered but utterly reasonable question about the costs of war, Mr. Bush scoffed in the midst of his response: "The rest of your six-point question?"

In fact, the event's only moment of candor may have come when Mr. Bush admitted during the conference that he was calling on reporters according to his pre-arranged list of names, which his press secretary, Ari Fleischer, later copped to preparing.

"This is scripted," Mr. Bush joked.

Strangely, many reporters laughed at this remarkable joke, which had the additional benefit of being true. ...

Those granted the opportunity to ask questions seldom seemed to raise the President's blood pressure. For every pointed query, there were several softballs that could have been capably handled by a press-office deputy. There was a question about Mr. Bush's faith, which allowed him to hold the floor on the topic of prayer-a good topic for another day-and another reporter asked whether Mr. Bush would allow journalists and arms inspectors time to get out of Baghdad before the hostilities began, a question that allowed the President to assure the public that his war plan would not cause the death of Hans Blix or Geraldo Rivera. It should also be noted that no one asked Mr. Bush about anything besides Iraq and North Korea-crucial topics both, but a question about the struggling economy might have taken Mr. Bush at least temporarily off-message.

A lack of follow-ups was also problematic. "In that room, one of the things a questioner has to do is create a moment, a confrontation with the President," said Mr. Moran, who got in a question about world opinion-but now regrets not following up more forcefully. "Not to showboat, not to draw attention to yourself, but to bring the President back down to what he is: a citizen President who needs to be engaged in a normal, ordinary conversation about these issues. So you almost have to issue a challenge to him up there. The point is to get them to answer questions, not just to stand up there and use all the majesty of the Presidency to amplify his image."

Some correspondents said they had a fear, for all their desire of "the moment," of appearing disrespectful-even unpatriotic-by confronting a President about to lead troops into battle. Reporters also said that Mr. Bush, for all his locker-room jocularity-referring to reporters by last names or nicknames-subtly intimidates them on a personal level. His aides let it be known that Mr. Bush sneers at the way reporters sculpt their hair and apply makeup for their prime-time appearances, a disdain that shows. "He'll laugh at your questions," said a White House newspaper correspondent who has suffered that fate.

"[H]ow much longer can this myth be maintained?" asks Glenn. If it survived the embarrassment of March 6, 2003, I expect the answer to that is "forever."