(3 of 8)
Sununu does not think like Bush or any other let's-make-a-deal politician. He was trained as an engineer and a debater, and it shows. The engineer in him enormously enjoys the substantive questions of governance: What kind of pollution control is cost-effective? Which jet fighter technologies should we share with Japan? To such questions, Sununu brings voracious curiosity, a keen analytical gift and near total recall. Budget Director Richard Darman, Sununu's only intellectual peer in the Bush inner circle, points out that "Sununu is trained in fluid dynamics and has a good sense of the dynamics of a problem," unlike lesser minds, who "see the world in static terms."
But years before he studied engineering, Sununu was whipping older boys in high school debate tournaments. Then as now, he could argue either side of a question with equal gusto. Unlike lawyers, debaters never seek friendly, out- of-court settlements: their goal is to intellectually destroy the opponent. Sununu wields his prodigious memory like a sword, inundating his adversary with data. And he resorts early and often to ad hominem bullying. Observes a senior White House official: "There is something in Sununu's personality where he cannot stay in his seat if someone says or does something that he thinks is foolish. He feels obliged to immediately expose the person as a fool."
Sununu often discounts the intelligence of those who do not debate as ferociously as he. For all his brusque misjudgment of individuals, however, Sununu shows astute insight into groups. He cleverly divines which arguments will be most persuasive to which audiences. And though he is deeply conservative on social issues like abortion, Sununu is supple and ambitious enough to accommodate the raging moderation of George Bush.
In a city of strange bedfellows, Bush and Sununu make one of the oddest couples ever: ideologically, temperamentally, even physically. A common sight around the White House is the 6-ft. 2-in. Bush, his lanky frame impeccably clad in an $800 suit, trailed by what an admirer calls "this fat little pirate," 5 ft. 9 in., 190 lbs., his wavy hair tousled, sweating, with tie loosened, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, pants sagging beneath his paunch and shirttail sneaking out in the back.
The contrast extends to the hours they prefer, even their table manners. Bush bounds eagerly out of bed at 5:30 a.m., and always has. Sununu is a night owl who, when studying engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, would organize a marathon bridge game or keep fraternity brothers awake while thwokking a lacrosse ball off his wall, then handle his homework in an hour or so before class. Bush is so exquisitely considerate that at meals, without breaking conversation, he will shift his water glass to give the waiter more room as he arrives with the soup. When Sununu receives guests in his White House office, he will pour himself a cup of coffee (he drinks only decaf, which everyone agrees is a good thing) and grab a handful of M&M's without offering anything to anyone else.