Friedersdorf fails to see the point:
If tonight’s State of the Union address is anything like the ones that President Obama delivered in 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, or 2013, here’s what to expect: a banal, risk-averse, scattershot speech that could be cancelled without any great consequence. Obama is a capable orator. It’s easy to remember some of his best speeches. He rarely gets to address America in prime time with Congress assembled. I’d like to see him focus on one issue, or even one theme, and marshal logic to persuade Americans that some substantive step or other ought to be taken.
But that would be unconventional and risky. Everyone with a pet cause that wasn’t mentioned due to the narrowed focus would be upset. That’s why the speech is likely to be broad and shallow, addressing so many subjects that nothing deep or lasting can be said about any of them.
Favreau, who helped write Obama’s previous SOTUs, defends the ritual:
Along with a few championship games and award shows, the State of the Union is one of the few annual events that tens of millions of Americans still watch together, as a country.
For a brief moment, we get to witness our system of government as the proud, democratic institution it was meant to be, not the sad, partisan spectacle it has too often become. Elected officials of both parties gather in one chamber, and (minus Joe Wilson) treat each other with civility, respect, and even warmth. Republicans will line up early to pose for pictures with President Obama, just as Democrats would reach over their colleagues to shake hands with President Bush. Sure, there are many times during the speech where one party applauds and the other does not. But there are many more times when both parties stand to cheer their president’s words: about our troops or our veterans; our children or our workers; our shared love of this country and its special, indispensible place in the world.
Jeff Shesol, another former speechwriter, wishes for a modernized SOTU:
What compels this speech to drag as it does? The answer has to be inertia, an unwillingness to challenge convention—because no principle of aesthetics, no provision of the Constitution, requires the State of the Union to take this shape. The Constitution states only that the President “shall from time to time give to the Congress information of the state of the union, and recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.” I’m no constitutional scholar, but I see nothing in there about shout-outs to the Interstate Highway System. When George Washington delivered America’s first annual message, in 1790, he limited himself to a thousand words. If you had suggested to him that he increase its length by six thousand words and pack it with legislative proposals that stood no chance of passing, he would have given you that look. (It was not a nice look.)
It’s time, then, to save this speech—this gas-guzzling boat of a speech—from itself.
The Dish 
