LEADERSHIP SKIPS GENERATION AS NEOLIBERAL CLUB DISSOLVES

Excavated from a storage space, the magazine gave off a musty smell of something long neglected. The subject of its cover story emitted the same scent.

Called "The Neoliberal Club," the article appeared in Esquire in February 1982, a full year into the Reagan revolution but long before the New York-based press knew what was hitting them.

It analyzed the next generation of American leaders, Democratic upstarts who asserted themselves as true heirs to the legacy of John Kennedy.

The job description: "Bleeding hearts need not apply. Neoliberals are cool pragmatists who believe in economic issues first, social programs second. They stress technology, national service, better defense and the entrepreneurial spirit."

These were supposed to be politicians for the postindustrial age. It didn't work out that way. ~Either someone swiped their best lines or the thinking was errant on where these guys were headed.

The economy improved, though not on the neoliberal watch. Their response was not to embrace the growth but howl like wolves at the Republican intrusion.

A decade later, this neoliberal club finds itself out of favor, out of luck and out of support, its bright and highly touted future stalled in the wake of aggressive satisfaction with more fully estimated versions of national vision.

Where are these guys now? No longer a club, to be sure, and probably lamenting the fact 1982 was a high-water mark for neoliberalism.

The neoliberal portrait gallery, as exhibited in the Esquire piece, shows itself in a different light these days, dusty and of diminished value.

Gary Hart. The model of neoliberalism in those defiant early days of Reaganism, Hart sought redemption after standing accused of sinking the Democratic Party with his ill-fated direction of the George McGovern campaign in 1972.

By the time Ronald Reagan was ultimately barred from the White House, Hart's salvation might have been realized. But carnal meltdown ensued and after that, as they say, nothing else mattered.

Timothy Wirth. Hart's fellow Coloradan was a member of the U.S. House in 1982. He was a party climber in those days and was voted to a Senate seat in 1986. Wirth announced this month he would forsake his bid for a second term, citing frustration with Washington politics. His opponents thought the withdrawal might be related to his acceptance of $41,000 in campaign contributions from investment firm Drexel Burnham Lambert; Wirth had fought to ease restrictions on junk bond trading.

Bill Bradley. The U.S. senator denies he is on a short list to be the Democratic vice presidential nominee. Still considered a rising star, Bradley nonetheless got an election-night scare from a political unknown in 1990. Bradley informed the citizens of New Jersey he wouldn't take them for granted again.

Paul Tsongas. Here's a neoliberal from the club who's gotten some good press in the 1990s. Problem is, they've got a name for guys like him: runner-up.

Richard Gephardt. Gephardt strengthened his resume since publication of the Esquire article, making a run for the presidency and climbing to majority leader status in the U.S. House. That's the good news for him. The bad news: Gephardt is number-two man of a scandal-tainted legislative chamber and spends time getting political operatives to strong-arm radio stations into rejecting his opponent's advertising.

If these are heirs to the legacy of John Kennedy, leadership must have skipped a generation.

If conservatives are bemoaning the dishonor George Bush has brought to their movement, what must liberals think of their standard bearers? Further, is it any wonder voters are confounded by their choices?