Van Jones, the administration’s “green czar,” made news early Sunday after announcing he was resigning from his post at the White House Council on Environmental Quality. It’s normally a strategic move to announce unflattering news during a long holiday weekend, but Jones’s timing seemed to be at the behest of his critics. In recent weeks, several Hill Republicans have lobbed accusations that Jones was unfit to serve in the administration because of incendiary comments he made before assuming office in February. They also cited a questionable petition he signed in 2004 alleging that the 9/11 terrorist attacks may have been the work of the government. Sen. Kit Bond of Missouri called for a congressional hearing into Jones’s qualifications to serve. In his resignation statement, Jones took a swipe back. "On the eve of historic fights for health care and clean energy, opponents of reform have mounted a vicious smear campaign against me,” he wrote—then he left the building.
Jones’s comments were indeed inappropriate, but did he really need to resign? I interviewed him twice over the past year, the first time before his White House appointment and the second four months after he joined the administration. It was easy to tell, very early in our conversations, that Jones’s shtik was an unfiltered yet equally thoughtful type of advocacy. “This is a time for heroes, not zeroes” on energy policy, he told me in our first chat, borrowing a colorful playground-ism. Not long afterward, The New Yorker trailed him for a profile in which the reporter captured a scene of Jones speaking to a roomful of students. “I don’t want to offend anybody,” he told them. “I might be too radical for you.” A young student called back: “Just being real.”
It’s an accurate way to describe him. That he has spoken off the cuff makes Van Jones a unique figure in a city that’s hopelessly scripted. (See also: Biden, Joe.) There’s no doubt that he could have chosen better words when referring to Republicans as “a--holes” last year, or been more prudent in his associations with antigovernment groups. It's worth noting that the "truther" movement accusing the Bush administration of a hand in 9/11 has evolved significantly since 2004. Back then, it was a sizable group of skeptical citizens asking unanswered questions. Only since then has the association turned fringe and angry. And besides, those questionable instances came before he had an administration to speak for and constituents to answer to. By our second interview, Jones had noticeably changed his tone. He had become a public servant who, well, drank the Kool-Aid. He knew his words carried different weight and in many ways reverberated louder. It made, frankly, for a less colorful interview than the ones he had granted when he was still his own boss. But it made sense: he had a job to do. And I knew he was far from the first officeholder to wipe off the smirk of private life when the camera’s red light turned on.
Still, personality gets one only so far in Washington, and in life. It’s easy to see the political motivations in Jones’s ouster. At a time when conservatives are attempting to curtail the Obama administration’s efforts on health-care reform, opponents pointing toward any weakness could quickly crack an already fragile infrastructure. Obama knew that, as did Press Secretary Robert Gibbs, who wouldn’t defend Jones when asked about the controversy during a press briefing last week. Jones knew it too. According to Gibbs, Jones left of his own volition, without being leaned on by administration officials.
While the political calculations are obvious, I still can’t help but wonder why Jones didn’t wait for the controversy to pass. Lots of officials have used the "wait it out" method to keep their jobs. Just ask Sen. Larry “airport bathroom” Craig or Gov. Mark “Appalachian Trail” Sanford or even Bill “I did not have sexual relations” Clinton. It’s called the news cycle because things inevitably move on. And now I watch a bit surprised as Jones does, too.
