Can Carson enter the world of science, history, and government policy?

Although this will not be posted until after Tuesday night's Republican primary debate, I am writing it ahead of that event in order to offer some understanding of why Ben Carson has embellished his life story.    Why would he do that, when the verifiable aspects are truly impressive?   The exaggerations are trivial, but it has raised questions about the truth of the rest and about his character.

First, some internet search turns up nothing to question his honorable and highly respected career at Johns Hopkins, which is #3 rated medical school in the country.   After college at Yale and medical school at the University of Michigan, he did his neurosurgery residency at Johns Hopkins and continued on the faculty through 29 years as the head of Pediatric Neurosurgery.

His retirement at age 62, saying that he wanted to stop when he was still at the top of his game, seems perfectly reasonable for someone of his achievements -- which include performing the first successful surgical separation of conjoined twins with shared brain parts and the recognition by President George W. Bush with the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

In addition, by then, he had already published several books, including his life story that was later the basis of a TV documentary;   and he had a budding new career as an inspirational speaker to fundamentalist religious groups.   This remarkable career is verifiable.   So why the need to embellish the little things?

Turning his up-from-poverty-to-miracle-performing surgeon life story into a brand has become a second career.  The brand depends on inspirational books and lectures and a conservative political and moral stance, and it has made him the darling of mostly right-wing religious audiences.

As humble and gentle as he seems, there has to be a large narcissistic component when a multimillion dollar enterprise depends entirely on Ben Carson the man and his life story.   And, as the exalted chief of neurosurgery at one of the top medical centers for 29 years, as well as the ground-breaking brain surgeon in the operating room all those years, it's inevitable that he is accustomed to being listened to and catered to and -- likely -- not questioned.   It tends to produce what we, as medical students, used to call:  "a minor Jehovah complex."

In addition, now Carson is used to writing for and talking to audiences who are willing to suspend disbelief about the details of your stories, because it's the larger truth that's important to them.   He entered the realm of evangelical preachers who are more concerned with inspiring emotions and influencing lives.   What they tell are parables.    The purpose is to illuminate a message, not prove a fact.
 
But now he has entered the world of politics at the highest level of vetting for presidential candidates.   It is an entirely different audience, including opposition research analysts and probing journalists -- and he's being called to account for every thing he ever said or wrote for a different audience that swallowed it all without question.

These are two different worlds, and Carson is in the uncomfortable position of having to account to this new audience for the slippery embellishments that were taken for granted by the other adoring audience.   I think what we're seeing now is his reaction to having both his exalted position and his honesty called into question.

Josh Marshall at TalkingPointsMemo likens Carson's embellishments to the fisherman's tale about the two pound bass that, "through a hundred re-tellings" . . . became a hundred pound monster" that got away.    Marshall continues:  ". . .Everything we know about Carson suggests that from his earliest days he was the same highly earnest and even nerdy dude that he is today in his mid-60s. But Earnest Nerd . . .  just lacks the necessary drama. So Carson appears to have manufactured or wildly exaggerated some young misbehavior to conceal a perfectly creditable story of a shy, bookish childhood. . . . "

As with the fisherman's tale, we chuckle, knowing it didn't really happen -- and we don't care.   We don't even call them lies;  it's just the way fishermen talk.   It's also the way fundamentalist preachers talk.   It's not the truth of the details that matter but the overall message of the parable.    Do you think Jesus really turned three little fish and two loaves of bread into enough food for a huge crowd?    Or was this a parable about sharing what you have with others?

But now Carson is in the spotlight . . . with a different audience that expects something different.   Stop worrying about his "fisherman tales."  Instead, challenge him about those vague policies he hints at.     Question him about what he actually knows about how the government works.

I'm willing to accept that he has a remarkable life story of impressive achievement against great odds.   Now lets move on and enter the world of science, history, logic, and policy.   If he cannot enter that world, then he is not presidential material.   If he cannot bear to be questioned about what he says now, then that's a serious problem.  And that applies to all the other candidates as well.

Ralph