Sen. Max Baucus and the NY Times: Profiles in Jello

I have searched for even the slimmest thread of journalistic redemption in yesterday's elaborately cuddly New York Times profile of the "soft-spoken but tenacious" Max Baucus, who, "as [he] pursues his goal" of health-care reform in America, knows "one challenge is his own reputation." But I'll be damned if I can find one.

Not only are we treated to press-office, stenographically heroic puff such as that above, there are direct quotes of personal nobility to boot: "I think I'm the luckiest guy in the world," mused Baucus (who, we also learn to our great astonishment, "loves everything Montana"), for "I am at the point to be able to do something really significant, really meaningful, and it must be done."

Gritty, plucky, and determined. That's Max for you, the messianic reformer ridin' in from the wild and unruly West, with a Tony Curtis glint in his eye and sparkle to his teeth: Yes, the Times gives you Montana's Sen. Max Baucus, who "said he had been preparing for this role since he was elected to the Senate in 1978, and viewed this as his moment ... to make history."

But just what, from the final four words of paragraph two, is "it"?

Who the hell knows? From the Times piece we reap only cryptic coyness: "He laid down his marker after the November election, releasing a 98-page white paper on reshaping health care."

Almost literally, end of story, because from there we are led only to a brief, fawning observation from OMB director Peter Orszag about how Baucus "was intent on identifying solutions" -- "I am struck," said Orszag, "by how he describes this as fun" -- and then, quite literally, end of story.

Here and there we do gather intimations. "In more than a year of preparation" -- remember, he's gritty, he's plucky, he's determined -- "Mr. Baucus largely developed a new model for writing complex legislation, bringing in an array of interest groups, lobbyists and other experts to lay out issues and options for senators and aides."

A new model. What in God's name is the NY Times talking about? When it hails itself as the "paper of record," does it mean for Athenian democracy? -- because the legislatively whorish hauling in of an "array of interest groups, lobbyists and other experts" is at least that ancient of a practice.

But, OK, I hear you cry, surely the Times delved into the senator's financial ties to those he would reform, even if the Times bothered not to inform us of what that reform is. And you would be right. And here's the delving, in toto: "Even as Mr. Baucus has tamped down criticism [of his elusive plan; a rather confounding act of denial, since the plan itself appears to be wrapped in Manhattan Project secrecy], he has continued collecting campaign contributions from industry interests, including drug companies and insurers."

From there, in the very next paragraph, we are pleasantly informed that Sen. Baucus is the "son of a rancher and great-grandson of a member of the Cowboy Hall of Fame."

I know, I know, it was enough to make me reread the bloody thing, too; but that's what it said, that's all it said -- not even a whisper about the immense quantity of campaign collections, or who, precisely, among the vast "array" of interest groups and lobbyists, the bag men are.

We do, however, learn that in the cat's paw of Mr. Baucus, the cheapest, most logical and most efficacious of reform solutions -- single-payer -- was but a tactical plaything left tragically unexploited: "He conceded that it was a mistake to rule out a fully government-run health system, or a 'single-payer plan,' not because he supports it but because doing so alienated a large, vocal constituency and left Mr. Obama's proposal of a public health plan to compete with private insurers as the most liberal position."

From the Times' 1,348 words of unquenchable schmooze, we also touchingly discover how it is that Mr. Baucus comes to formulating the essential, more critical pieces of health-care legislation for 300 million Americans.

In 2003, you see, he was running a marathon when he tripped, "gashing open his head." Weeks later he required emergency surgery as an unsuspected result of the fall, a surgery performed in Arizona and thus, to use insurance lingo, "out of network, leaving Mr. Baucus with thousands of dollars in bills not covered by his gold-plated federal health insurance plan."

And guess what? The one specific offered of his reform plan: "Mr. Baucus's bill is likely to allow the federal government to set minimum standards for provider networks so consumers are not surprised by high out-of-network costs, as he was."

Again, I know, I know, it's enough to make you gag -- but, assuming you have one, check your policy under "G" for gagging, first, and for heaven's sake, whatever else you do, don't barf out of state; not until, that is, Max comes riding to your rescue.

Little Big Horn is in Montana, isn't it?