Kristi Noem, Mitt Romney, and the GOP’s Dog Problem

As soon as the news about the South Dakota governor’s dead dog broke, I felt a knot in my stomach. That wasn’t just because of Governor Kristi Noem’s almost theatrical cruelty in bragging about the time she took her family’s 14-month-old wirehaired pointer, Cricket, out back and shot her dead, for the sin of being insufficiently responsive to commands. Of course, I would find the story revolting — I have a functioning heart.

But what made that knot grow was that I knew it wouldn’t be long before the media came after Mitt Romney, yet again, for having once put his dog on the roof of his station wagon during a family road trip. And for that, I bear more than a little responsibility.

It’s troubling to see people in politics and the media immediately equating Senator Romney’s milder dog incident (relatively speaking!) with Noem’s dog-execution-at-dawn. It’s also a pretty good metaphor for understanding how discourse within the Republican Party has coarsened over the last dozen years.

A refresher: In 2007, during Romney’s first presidential campaign, I unearthed the story of Mitt and his mutt. I reported how, back in 1983, Romney had driven his wife and five sons in their station wagon from Massachusetts to Canada, all while their Irish setter, Seamus, rode al fresco in a carrier Romney strapped to the car roof. The story caused a stir during that 2008 campaign, but a much bigger one after Romney became the 2012 Republican nominee for president: New York Times columnist Gail Collins made good on her promise to mention it as often as she could when writing about Romney. And President Obama’s campaign exploited the anecdote to claim that a President Romney would treat the American people the same way he had treated his poor dog.

Over the years, I’ve heard from quite a few Democrats who credited the Seamus story with

helping Obama get reelected. Losing petloving swing voters sure couldn’t have helped Romney. But I’ve also heard from Republicans who say the Seamus story helped pave the way for President Trump. If Romney had won in 2012, they contend, Trump would not have run in 2016, because he would have been facing an incumbent rather than a crowded open field.

I’ve never bought into these claims from either camp. The idea that something as complex as a presidential election would turn on one long-ago pet incident seems too far-fetched. But what I didn’t realize back then is how much the “Romney dog incident” would preview the profound changes we would see in American politics — and American media.

The Guardian wrote about Noem’s dog-slaying on April 26, quoting a passage from her forthcoming memoir. A HuffPost reporter later cornered Romney, and published an article under the headline, “‘I Didn’t Shoot My Dog’; Mitt Romney Resents Being Compared to Kristi Noem.”

You can certainly question Romney’s judgment and sensitivity in putting his dog in a roof carrier for a 12-hour drive (even if he had nerdily fashioned a windshield for Seamus’ benefit). But how could that possibly compare with Noem bragging about shooting her dog — in front of a startled construction crew, no less — after Cricket attacked some chickens and she concluded the dog was untrainable?

It’s not that many pet owners couldn’t relate to Noem’s frustration with a dog that seems impervious to training, and perhaps even dangerous. It’s that a shortlist contender to be Trump’s running mate could apparently think (incorrectly, it seems to be turning out) that bragging about playing backyard assassin with her dog would boost her favorability in MAGA Nation. What does that say about how uncouth political discourse has become? And what does it say about what politicians must think of their constituents?

Compare that to the GOP discourse of 2012, when earnest, square, gee-willikers Mitt was the nominee. The biggest substantive criticism back then was that he was so desperate to become president, that he would contort any of his political stances just to close the deal. As a reporter who spent lots of time with Romney and his family back then, I came to see that shape-shifting as a function of his background in business. He had become enormously wealthy by being relentlessly logicdriven. The Seamus story highlighted his emotion-free operating system. (Dog has diarrhea? Hose him down and return him to the roof.)

I used to think the Seamus story got more play in 2012 than 2008 simply because Romney was the GOP nominee the second time. But I realize now that’s only part of the reason.

The 2012 race was our first fully digital election, dominated by smartphones and social media. Research increasingly shows how much we — and our media — have been changed over the last decade by big tech’s algorithms, which reward heat over light, affirmation over information.

Imagine how Romney, as he enters his final months in the Senate, felt being forced to justify that his behavior wasn’t as bad as the South Dakota governor’s. Or what he thought seeing HuffPost publish an empty-calorie hot take with the clickbaity headline “I Didn’t Shoot My Dog.” Or seeing a slew of other media outlets (including the Globe) do some version of that same story and headline.

For all the legitimate criticism of Romney as a shapeshifting presidential candidate, it’s worth noting how stiff his spine became in the Senate. Rather than do what so many of his colleagues did — deriding Trump in private while obsequiously refusing to hold him accountable in public — Romney put the nation over party. As the sole Republican to vote to convict Trump at both of his impeachment trials, he’s had to withstand ferocious blowback.

In the last few years, Romney grew tremendously. It would be nice if the rest of us could say the same.

Neil Swidey is editor at large of the Globe Magazine. Email him at swidey@globe. com.

How could Romney putting his dog in a roof carrier possibly compare with Noem bragging about shooting her dog?