“Regard your soldiers as children, and they may follow wherever you lead. Look upon them as your beloved sons and they will stand by you until death.”

—Sun Tzu, The Art of War

In 1992 Bill Clinton won a town hall debate—and some would argue the entire U.S. presidential election—against presidential hopefuls George Bush and Ross Perot simply by forming an authentic connection with one voter, whom he did not previously know, with a direct, heartening, and strikingly real 30-second response to her question.

“How has the national debt personally affected each of your lives?” she asked of the three candidates. “And if it hasn't, how can you honestly find a cure for the economic problems of the common people, if you have no experience in what's ailing them?”

The woman asking the question was from a small town, and she and her friends had been hit hard by the recession. Perhaps she was also looking for an answer as to what each candidate would do, once in office, to improve the economy. But what she was really asking for was an authentic connection with the presidential candidates—men of significant means, who seemed to her very distant from her world of economic suffering. She also needed someone to offer genuine support for her and her friends, in a meaningful, heartfelt way. And yes, perhaps she hoped too for some sort of uplifting direction about how things could improve. Did the candidates understand what she was really looking for or what drove her to ask the question? We can judge their attentiveness to the real question, the sensitivity of their answers, and their ability to form authentic human relationships by how each candidate chose to answer.

Bush stumbled through an answer, eventually turning defensive, and argued that although he isn't personally directly affected by the recession or national debt, you don't have to be personally affected to understand that recessions are bad and painful for many people. To further illustrate this valid point, Bush said, “but I don't think it's fair to say, ‘You haven't had cancer, so you don't know what it's like.’” Clearly, this is an example of a leader making a logically sound point, and backing it up with a good analogy, but completely missing the mark. He failed to address the woman's real concern because he was unable to understand or appreciate that the question was not important; what was important was the personal connection. He failed to so much as dip a toe into the pool of potential connection. As a result, he seemed even more distant from this voter, and the millions watching the debate at home, than he was when the debate started.

In Bush's answer there was no literal or figurative hand extended to touch the voter. Though the question was directed personally to each candidate, a charismatic leader should understand that the answer was not at all about what lowered interest rates their investments had suffered, how they'd had to sell one of their business holdings, or how they'd had visitors in their fancy offices who complained to them about the state of the economy and how that upset them. Instead, their goal in answering should have been to form an authentic connection with—and provide genuine support to—a member of the audience who was asking what so many voters at home wanted to ask as well: “Who are you guys? Are you real? Do you even get what's going on in this country? Do you know what it's like to fear being homeless, to not be able to provide groceries for your child? Do you get it?!? Are you listening to us, the real American people? Do you care about us at all?”

The point Bush made in his answer was not wrong. Of course we are all affected by recession and a crippling national debt, but some are affected much more harshly than others. And the question was about those people, the 95 percent. Who was asking the question? She was a single mother, struggling to make ends meet. She likely knew the cost of a gallon of milk. She counted every dollar. And she represented the vast majority of the American public in 1992.

So, how did Clinton so famously answer the question? In case you aren't familiar with this pivotal moment in presidential (and U.S.) history, here's what he did: before saying a word, he left the comfort of his podium and walked up to the edge of the stage, as close as he could get to the audience member who had asked the question—the closest he could get to reaching out and touching her—and paused before speaking. (You can see this in Seth Masket's YouTube video “Clinton vs. Bush in 1992 Debate.”) Here's what he said (transcript by Sabrina Siddiqui in “Bill Clinton Won 1992 Town Hall Debate by Engaging with One Voter”):

1. CLINTON: Tell me how it's affected you again.
2. QUESTIONER: Um—
3. CLINTON: You know people who've lost their jobs and lost their homes?
4. QUESTIONER: Well, yeah, uh-huh.
5. CLINTON: Well, I've been governor of a small state for 12 years. I'll tell you how it's affected me. Every year Congress and the president sign laws that make us do more things and gives (sic) us less money to do it with. I see people in my state, middle-class people—their taxes have gone up in Washington and their services have gone down while the wealthy have gotten tax cuts.

   I have seen what's happened in this (sic) last four years when—in my state, when people lose their jobs there's a good chance I'll know them by their names. When a factory closes, I know the people who ran it. When the businesses go bankrupt, I know them.

   And I've been out here for 13 months meeting in meetings just like this ever since October, with people like you all over America, people that have lost their jobs, lost their livelihood, lost their health insurance.

   What I want you to understand is the national debt is not the only cause of that. It is because America has not invested in its people. It is because we have not grown. It is because we've had 12 years of trickle-down economics. We've gone from first to twelfth in the world in wages. We've had four years where we've produced no private-sector jobs. Most people are working harder for less money than they were making 10 years ago.

   It is because we are in the grip of a failed economic theory. And this decision you're about to make better be about what kind of economic theory you want, not just people saying, “I'm going to go fix it” but what are we going to do? I think what we have to do is invest in American jobs, American education; control American health care costs; and bring the American people together again.

When Clinton returned to his podium, the message was clear; he was the candidate of the people, the candidate most in touch with regular Americans, and the candidate most likely, most driven, to do something to improve the situation. His words were good. But his understanding of what voters wanted to hear and how to connect with them emotionally and authentically and let them know that he not only is listening, but also actually hears them, enabled whatever policy agenda he offered in his concise direction in that debate, and in ensuing debates, to fall on ready ears among the voting public.

Furthermore, his words and his emotion behind the connection, support, and direction he offered were augmented by his perfect use of physical space and gestures. Let's review how Clinton's powerful response to the questioner paralleled the basic tenets of a Coaching Up Conversation, as we outlined it in Chapter 2.