The Staid, The Goofy, The Pivotal

For the most part, debates between vice presidential candidates have been little more than lounge acts, pleasant diversions that pale in significance compared to the critical showdowns between the big guns at the top of the national tickets.

Some of them we remember merely for their novelty. Such was the case in 1984, when Vice President George Bush ran for re-election against Geraldine Ferraro, the first woman ever nominated for national office.

In that debate, Bush couldn’t resist the opportunity to flaunt his broad experience in international affairs, and in the most condescending manner. “Let me help you with the difference, Mrs. Ferraro, between Iran and the embassy in Lebanon,” he said at one point.

But Ms.Ferraro - as she preferred to be called - was more than ready for that challenge.

“Let me say, first of all, that I almost resent, Vice President Bush, your patronizing attitude that you have to teach me about foreign policy,” she said to the audience's applause.

Four years later, Bush ran for the top job. One of the more entertaining sideshows of that 1988 campaign was the debate between his running mate, Dan Quayle, and the Democratic nominee for vice president, Lloyd Bentsen.

The moment of high drama came when Quayle chose to liken his experience and credentials for high office with those of John F. Kennedy when he ran for president in 1960.

Bentsen, who ad a patrician’s sense of propriety, was clearly offended by what he regarded as a most unseemly comparison.

“I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you are no Jack Kennedy,” Bentsen told Quayle - to a resounding audience ovation.

Bentsen's rhetorical roundhouse notwithstanding, the Republican ticket won a decisive victory.

Four years later, when Quayle returned to the debating forum for vice presidential candidates, it was one of his opponents who took on the role of buffoon.

Quayle’s Democratic rival in 1992 was Al Gore. But that was the year the two major parties had to contend with a strong third-party challenge led by Ross Perot. And Perot chose as his running mate a retired admiral named James Stockdale.

Stockdale was an engaging character. But he was also a political neophyte who was barely conversant with the central issues of that year’s campaign. When pressed into debate mode against Quayle and Gore, the old mariner soon found himself at sea, adrift in waves of rhetoric he could not fathom.

At one point, Stockdale became so flummoxed that he just stared into the camera and forlornly inquired: “Who am I? Why am I here?”

It was a moment worthy of a scene from a play by that master of absurdist drama, Samuel Beckett.

There was nothing memorable about the 1996 vice presidential debates. Both candidates – Gore, the incumbent, and his Republican opponent, Jack Kemp – were on their best behavior.

Indeed, the two men were so respectful of each other that their courteous skirmish was strictly a case of the bland leading the bland.

Of all the vice presidential debates, the only one that may have had a serious impact on the election result was the very first one, which took place in 1976.

The combatants that year were Bob Dole, who was President Gerald Ford’s running mate, and Walter Mondale, who was on the Democratic ticket headed by Jimmy Carter. Their debate provided a sharp contrast in style and personality.

Mondale chose to take the high road and came across as earnest and dignified. Although he was a dedicated liberal on many issues, he cautiously refrained from embracing positions that might embarrass the more conservative Carter – and the Democratic Party in general.

Dole, on the other hand, went on the attack so aggressively that many viewers were turned off by a manner they regarded as mean-spirited. What’s more, on some issues Dole took stands that were not only controversial but downright reckless.

His worst moment came when, in response to a question about Vietnam, he asserted that all American wars “in this century were Democratic wars.” Elaborating on that point, Dole went on to note that Democrats were in the White House when U.S. troops were drawn into the two world wars, Korea and Vietnam. It was a strikingly ill-informed accusation, especialy coming from a man who had fought in World War II and had been severely wounded on a the battlefield in Italy.

Dole, at the very least, should have known that America's entry into World War II was a national crusade that had full bipartisan support. Dole later modified his allegation, but it injected a sour note in a Republican campaign that was already in deep trouble.

In the aftermath of President Ford’s narrow defeat that November, surveys revealed two main reasons why he failed to win re-election. One was his pardon of former President Richard Nixon, who had been driven out of office by the Watergate scandal, and the other was his choice of running mate.

Voters, it turned out, had a far more favorable perception of Mondale than they did of Dole. And the negative baggage he acquired in that 1976 campaign became a burden Dole would have to bear through the rest of his long political career.

If vice presidential debates are normally staid – or comical – affairs, the Dole-Mondale content proves they can also be pivotal, especially in close races such as this year’s.