Published September 27, 2008 in the Broad Street Review

As a family therapist, I look at political candidates as an extension of what makes a family work. I see strong parallels between a healthy family and a healthy society. In families, strong limits are necessary, as is discipline, although I would argue that striking a child always does more harm than good. In government, of course, sometimes violence is necessary— but only, I would argue, as a last resort.

When John McCain secured the Republican nomination for president earlier this year, I was impressed by his independence and looked forward to a campaign based on reasoned differences about issues. His egregious choice of the clearly unqualified Sarah Palin as his running mate prompted me to investigate him more closely and to conclude that he is a man of frightening anger, ruled throughout his life by a consistent pattern of thoughtless and impulsive behavior. (See "A therapist evaluates McCain.")

The substance of Friday evening’s opening presidential debate will continue to be discussed in detail. But beneath their words, the demeanor of the two candidates spoke eloquently (to me, at least)— both about their natures and how they will approach friend and foe at home and around the world.

This debate seemed to confirm that the business of war, rather than the art of diplomacy, is John McCain’s true essence. Consider a few moments that remain frozen in my mind’s eye:

Prior to the debate, Barack Obama walked over to John McCain to shake his hand. McCain acted as if Obama were carrying a rare disease on his fingertips, conceding only a perfunctory greeting and turning away as soon as possible.

During the debate, Obama appeared to listen to McCain and concentrate on his words. The camera often picked up Obama looking as his opponent and listening to him as he spoke. I watched carefully but never saw McCain offer the same respect, concentration and mannered approach.

At times, Obama addressed directly McCain by his first name, spoken kindly, rather than the more formal use of “Senator.” McCain never addressed his rival with either courtesy or cordiality. He never even called Obama "my friend," much less use his first name.

McCain seemed angry throughout the debate, as evidenced by the continual clenching and rigid movement of the right side of his jaw.

At the conclusion of the debate, the microphone picked up Obama's asking his wife, Michelle, how she was doing. Following their embrace they walked over to Cindy and John McCain, who both seemed to recoil stiffly, as if the Obamas were untouchable.

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