For underdog, risk has often led to reward

WASHINGTON -- Jimmy Carter grinned his way to victory over a gaffe-prone Gerald Ford, only to have Ronald Reagan take revenge in the next election, asking voters in a soon-to-unmistakable husky baritone, "Are you better off than you were four years ago?"

Tonight, John F. Kerry joins the realm of challengers to presidents, called upon to establish their fitness on the field of debate, in what history shows is a would-be president's best chance to prove he belongs in people's living rooms.

Kerry's opportunity is real: Since presidential debates resumed in 1976, three challengers have gone on to win the election and two have lost. In both cases the losers were thought to be too far behind when the debates began to have made up the difference.

Carter, Reagan, and Bill Clinton stood up against sitting presidents and soon became incumbents themselves.

Kerry does not come into tonight's debate with quite the same standing as those three. Carter's first opponent, Ford, was not a true incumbent, having taken over after Richard Nixon's resignation. Clinton was a fresh face after 12 years of Republican rule. And only Reagan in 1980 was arguably behind in the polls when he debated Carter.

But the history of presidential debates strongly confirms that such events provide Kerry's best chance to energize his campaign and raise fresh doubts about President Bush. With a few exceptions, such as Michael Dukakis in 1988 and Bob Dole in 1996, debates have helped the lesser-known figure more than his better-known rival.

"This is the challengers' chance to put themselves forward and say, 'You can put your trust in me. I can stand up at the same level as the incumbent can,' " said Boston University history professor Michael T. Corgan, who has observed presidential debates since 1960.

The four 1960 contests were the first, an attempt to capture the spirit of the legendary Lincoln-Douglas debates that laid bare the issues surrounding slavery in 1858. But those debates were part of a Senate campaign, and until well into the 20th century, presidential candidates believed it was undignified to campaign, let alone debate.

The 1960 face-offs almost ended the tradition of presidential debates before it began, because well-established politicians came to fear the effects of the strange medium of television. That year, many believed that then-Vice President Nixon bested John F. Kennedy in verbal exchanges, but Nixon looked sweaty and unshaven on television, which in those black-and-white days could cast mysterious shadows.

The Kennedy-Nixon debates established the precedent of debates as a vehicle for the lesser-known politician, since Nixon had maintained a high public profile during the eight years of the Eisenhower presidency, while Kennedy was a new face on the national scene.

For the next three elections, there were no debates. Lyndon Johnson and then Nixon himself believed that they would only become forums for their challengers. In 1976, however, Ford was far behind in most polls and issued the challenge to debate in his acceptance speech at the Republican convention. From his home in Plains, Ga., Carter immediately accepted.

The Ford campaign believed that debates would show the callowness of Carter, a one-term governor who won the Democratic nomination with post-Watergate slogans like "I will never lie to you" and "Why not the best?" During the Cold War, much as today, experience as a potential commander-in-chief weighed heavily in voters' consideration, and Ford, who carried a reputation as a politically slow-footed but solid leader, seemed likely to benefit.

The first of the three debates seemed to help both candidates: Ford was rising in the polls, and many commentators thought he was a little better in the debate than Carter. But Carter was sufficiently serious and informed to allay any concerns about his fitness for the presidency.

Then a strange thing happened in the second debate, which focused on foreign policy. The president chose to dispute a question from Max Frankel of The New York Times that referred to Soviet domination of Eastern Europe; Ford disputed the idea that Poland, Romania, Czechoslovakia, and other countries were Soviet satellites.

Though many voters were confused by the exchange, Ford's dubious assertion seemed to strip him of authority and confirm his reputation as accident-prone.

Carter's comeuppance came four years later, after he had boycotted debates that included third-party candidate John Anderson. Finally granted a one-on-one shot with Reagan, Carter hoped the debate would contrast his battle-tested mien against his challenger's perceived shallowness and simplicity.

Up to that point, Carter and Reagan were neck-and-neck in the polls. With high inflation and American hostages bottled up in Iran, the public was uneasy with Carter's leadership. But the Carter campaign had been somewhat successful in portraying Reagan as a figure from the extremes of the political mainstream.

To win the debate, Reagan had to avoid troubling gaffes and appear unthreatening. He did all that and more, with a performance that quickly established his reputation as a "great communicator." His formulation of the election as a "basic question" of whether voters were better off became a political truism handed down from that campaign, and his dismissal of a Carter attack with a breezy "There you go again," revealed his legendary charm.

By 1984, debates were such an expected part of presidential politics that the incumbent Reagan felt obliged to go along with them, though he had a strong lead.

The first debate was almost a disaster for Reagan, as the 73-year-old president fumbled facts and failed to finish his answers in allotted time. He recouped in the second debate, showing his sunny humor and reminding voters of their affection for him.

The 1988 debates represented an opportunity for Dukakis, sinking in the polls against Vice President George H.W. Bush, to show his vaunted command of policy, the managerial strength that underlay his promise of "competence, not ideology."

The Democrat largely succeeded in the first debate, but his smoothness left voters uncertain about him personally, as Bush exuded a boyish charm to compensate for some fractured answers to policy questions.

The dnouement came at the start of the second debate. Dukakis answered a question about whether he would want the death penalty for his wife's killer with a detailed explanation of his views against capital punishment.

Four years later, it was Bush who was insufficiently warm. The 1992 debates were marked by the inclusion of third-party candidate Ross Perot, who almost stole the show. With his cracker-barrel folksiness, Perot skewered not only Bush but all of Washington for its irresponsible spending. Democratic challenger Bill Clinton quietly benefited from the barrage, and generally laid low until the second debate, with its "Town Hall" format.

There, Clinton exuded so much warmth in his face-to-face encounters with voters that he took on the manner of a talk-show host. Bush seemed dumbfounded, and looked at his watch, as if hoping for a quick end to Clinton's group-therapy session.

The 1996 debates between Clinton and Republican challenger Dole were low-wattage affairs, as each candidate performed up to expectations: Clinton offered a vision of reassuring moderation, and Dole a respectable but less-than-inspiring alternative.

In 2000, George W. Bush found himself in the shoes of Carter in 1976 and Reagan in 1980, as a candidate with no experience in foreign policy being tested against a more experienced opponent. And, as before, Bush performed above expectations.

Now, Kerry is the challenger, but expectations are somewhat higher: Unlike Carter, Reagan, Clinton, or other successful challengers, Kerry carries a reputation for foreign-policy expertise, suggesting he will have to do more than prove his competence.

Bush's aides, for their part, are suggesting that the president -- a straight-talking guy with limited patience for the nuances of policy -- need only do "well enough" in an atmosphere more favorable to Kerry's lawyerly formulations, Corgan noted. They want to present Bush as the perpetual underdog. Kerry's camp isn't buying it: The president, Kerry's aides have said repeatedly, has "never lost a debate."

Both sides seem to know what Corgan and most historians of presidential debates have concluded: It helps to be the challenger.