Why Cheney changed.

When Brent Scowcroft told the New Yorker's Jeffrey Goldberg that he used to admire Dick Cheney, but that Cheney had so changed that Scowcroft no longer felt he knew him, I recognized the feeling. I have known Cheney for 25 years or so, his wife even longer. I knew that we disagreed on most issues, but I always found him reasonable and respectful of facts. I was actually pleased when George W. Bush chose him as his running mate. Since 2001, however, the vice president has seemed increasingly rigid and so indifferent to the facts that he misrepresents them repeatedly. It was as if he were the Manchurian Candidate, in whose brain Osama bin Laden had implanted a chip designed to make Cheney do whatever would inflame relations between Islam and the West.

Cheney's change has had its impact on Dubya, who as governor of Texas was much more willing to listen to the other side than he is today. When Chris Matthews recently asked Paul Burka, the veteran Texas journalist, what had changed Bush, Burka replied: "Dick Cheney."

But that still leaves us with the question of what changed Cheney. I have two guesses. The last time I had an extended conversation with his wife, Lynne, was in the early 1990s. I noticed then that she had become much more rigidly conservative. So perhaps Cheney was influenced by his spouse. The other possibility--considerably more fanciful but nevertheless, by my own guess, closer to the truth--is psychological. There is considerable evidence that Dubya thought his real father was wishy-washy. I suspect he was looking for a strong father, that Cheney perceived this need, and that Cheney realized that if he filled that role, he would practically become president himself--or at least have far more influence than most vice presidents. All Cheney had to do was be decisive, ignore the other side, and never waver.