A time-honored tradition erodes.

Let's face it--politicians are much less concerned than they used to be about newspaper support.

A newspaper's endorsement can perhaps influence an election, but its impact has been diluted by other media--by talk show hosts and late-night TV emcees and bloggers.

The Bush administration's indifference and just-below-the-surface hostility to the mainstream press--and its ingenious manipulation--is proving that newspaper support may often be irrelevant.

Too bad--not only for those in the newspaper business, but for the public, because, if nothing else, newspaper opinion represented (or should have) a reasoned conclusion reached after questioning and pondering input often unavailable to everyone.

This also may be eroding a time-honored journalistic institution--editorial board meetings with people in the public eye. It's not only informative for the press and for the readers, it's fun--for the editors and, often, even for their guests.

I recall being dazzled by obscure presidential candidate Bill Clinton's astonishing grasp of governmental minutiae--and his garrulousness. Eyes glazing, we tried to shut him up so we could go back to work. As he was finally being ushered out of the newsroom, he noticed a photo of Elvis Presley on the wall. This set him off again, on a monologue about his idol.

Future U.S. Attorney General Dick Thornburgh, then governor of Pennsylvania, stalked out of one session, saying, "I've had enough of this sh--. You guys have called me a liar," then allowed himself to be talked into returning.

Next day, at some event in Independence Hall, I tried to avoid him, presuming he'd be hostile. But he made a bee-line for me, and gushed: "Wasn't that fun?"

My favorite editorial board guest was Philadelphia's two-term mayor and former police commissioner, the late Frank L. Rizzo. He had a national reputation for being boorish and heavy-handed, which was not undeserved, but his opponents and critics (including us in the press) consistently underestimated how smart he was.

Rizzo loved confrontation. He was more than our match in a one-on-one. He cultivated the image of being loud, brash, and vindictive because he knew it endeared him to his constituency, who enjoyed seeing him outwit, intimidate, and outmaneuver the city's "liberal" elite. When he left, there was an audible exhalation.

What a contrast to a later mayor, now Governor Ed Rendell, who'd come alone and usually early, chatting with reporters and writers before even notifying the editorial board he was in the building.

There were other memorable visitors. Among them:

* Former Senator Bill Bradley, who enjoyed answering questions about his brilliant basketball career until the session had to be brought around to matters senatorial (about which he was equally knowledgeable).

* Then-First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton, who was pitching her husband's ill-fated health care proposals, and surprised us with her warmth and openness--in contrast to the public image created by legions of Hillary-haters.

* Jesse Jackson, jovially commandeering the editorial page editor's chair, and trying--with some success--to take over the session.

They came trooping through--candidates begging for our endorsement, public officials promoting programs or defending themselves against criticism, educators and social workers, and do-gooders and artists and performers.

We mattered then. I hope I'm wrong, but I'm afraid Larry King and Jay Leno and Rush Limbaugh matter much more today.

Don Harrison, a former NCEW board member, was deputy editor of the Philadelphia Daffy News opinion pages for nineteen years before retiring in 2002. E-mail [e-mail]