“Likability” has apparently become a more potent political attribute than, say, having a firm grasp of issues or possessing formidable speaking skills. At a lunch with Newsweek editors on Monday, Oklahoma Governor Frank Keating said that if Governor Bush had an edge in his race against the vice president it is “his likeability. People like him”.It’s pretty tough to embrace a razor blade. It’s pretty tough to hug an ice cube, and I think both metaphors apply to Al Gore." After Laura Bush’s speech to the delegates on Monday night, she was deemed “real” by CNN pundit Jeff Greenfield. His fellow panelists agreed that she is “natural,” “shy,” and yes, that “people like her.” And, of course, they LOVE Colin Powell. Members of MSNBC’s convention focus group told pollster Frank Luntz that Powell was “dynamic,” “caring,” and no less than a “national treasure.”

This week at least, a big part of being likable is the concealment of any sign of contention whatsoever. Republicans apparently find it more appealing to appear brain dead than engaged in the issues that often divide the party–or even in their own party rules. There were none of the usual dust-ups over the party platform. Bush removed language from the 1996 platform that opposed civil-rights protections for those discriminated against for sexual preference; the committee quietly put it back in. Bush stays likable, the partisans stay happy. Above all, there was no nasty fight to mess up the schedule–or the party’s new happy face.

The Bush camp even shot down a potential floor fight on the issue of “super delegates,” a tiff that would hardly have been akin to a nasty televised brawl over the platform’s abortion plank. Last week, the rules committee had voted to allow Republican National Committee members to become automatic delegates to the convention, the first time Republicans, unlike the Democrats, have allowed delegates not elected in a party caucus or primary to participate. The vote would almost surely have been overturned by the full convention, but the Bush camp became so alarmed over the prospect of even a relatively benign display of dissent that staffers pressured members of the committee to withdraw their names from the “minorty report’ which would have put the new rule in play on the floor. Instead, delegates spent the day automatically endorsing the resolutions of the rules and platform committees and listening to scintillating speeches by the chairman of the Young Republicans and major Republican money man Max Fisher. “In their defense,” said an unhappy member of the rules committee, “[A floor fight] would have blown this tight script that is playing really well in America.” When I asked him by how much it would’ve blown the script, he said maybe an extra hour in the daytime session. No wonder the adjective most favored by reporters describing the proceedings is “choreographed.”

It’s an adjective the Bush campaign is more than happy to accept. “Americans are long past this threshold where people think the conventions are spontaneous events where things happen, like some kind of Woodstock with elephant hats,” says Bush communications whiz Stuart Stevens, who watched the convention on TV with his boss on Monday night. “They’re televised events. Everybody knows that. So you either have good TV or bad TV. Had it not come off without a glitch, everbody would’ve written that we didn’t have our act together. I’ll take this pistol whipping, for going smoothly, any time.”

If the love fest continues to progress glitch-free (and what could possibly mar events like Tuesday night’s tribute to veterans led by Bob Dole?) I fully expect George Bush to come out on Thursday and make like Sally Fields. “You like me!” he’ll say, tears streaming down his face. “You really like me.” And the party will have achieved the week’s objective.