Thursday, May 3, 2001

You'd think a man would know better. Especially a guy's guy like George W. Bush. Aren't frat boys supposed to be the masters of this so-called ``strategic ambiguity''? As in, ``That was fun babe, I'll call you sometime.''

But in an April 25 interview on ``Good Morning America,'' Bush broke Washington's long-standing strategic ambiguity policy, and said he would do ``whatever it took'' - including using military force - to defend Taiwan against a Chinese attack.

Bush's clarity was quickly de-clarified by the White House and the State Department, which insisted the ambiguity policy remained unchanged, or ambiguous.

(That prompted National Public Radio's Dan Schorr to joke that White House press spokesman Ari Fleisher should say, ``When the president speaks off the cuff he does not necessarily speak for this administration.'')

Although Bush and I both enjoy working out, I didn't think we had much else in common, but now I realize the president and I are practically soul siblings. I, too, have a hard time being ambiguous. (Although not, I must confess, about Sino-Taiwan relations. There, I'm a soft hegemonist.)

I've always envied the ``yada, yada, yada'' people - those who, without seeming rude, can leave things vague, either in their personal lives or at work, just like George Costanza's girlfriend Marcy did.

You ask them to do something they don't want to do, and instead of agreeing to it, and then dreading the event for days or weeks (my style), or offering some absurdly transparent excuse (also my style), they say simply, ``I'd love to, but it's not going to work out.''

Why won't it ``work out''? They don't say. That way, if they're spotted in a restaurant or at the beach when they should have been helping you hang wallpaper, or attending your child's piano recital, they haven't been caught in a lie.

Foreign policy experts know that strategic ambiguity, when properly used, keeps America's adversaries off balance and at the same time leaves our options open.

The cagey employee learns the same lesson early on in his or her career.

``I'm as vague as possible,'' one woman said, describing the approach she takes to her communications with her boss. ``No one should ever know exactly what you're doing or, for that matter, who you even report to.''

How's that business analysis coming, Smithers?

Fine, sir.

As important as strategic ambiguity is when dealing with China, or your supervisor, or friends for that matter, I find the most important use is with oneself.

When it comes to me, I like to take a head-in-the-sand approach. How much do I spend on frozen yogurt each week? How many hours do I talk on the phone? What, exactly, am I reading?

``I don't really want to face how I actually spend my time,'' one woman told me. ``I always say `I'm so busy,' but I don't break it down. I don't want to.''

That's why I hate those end-of-the-year summaries American Express sends. When it comes to life, it's best to be, well, you know.