Snow Jobs David Brooks: Gail, I'm starting this conversation off on a train leaving a very snowy New Haven. The original plan was to make it home to Washington, but I'm pretty sure that in an hour or so the train will be inundated by snow. Mass panic will overtake the passengers. There will be an apocalyptic war of all against all in the snack car, as various passengers claw for the few remaining turkey sandwiches while I am scrunched over in the corner hoarding the little bottles of Chablis. Picture that Cormac McCarthy novel, "The Road." You'll have the general idea. Gail Collins: That's a very Hobbesian vision. Think positive! Maybe all the passengers will work together to save the group. Picture "Independence Day" without the alien invasion. Consultants will offer up all the papers in their briefcases to keep the bonfires burning. Homebound shoppers will consult on the best recipe for dried turkey marinated in bad wine. The folks from the quiet car will lead in the singing of old folk songs, kind of like in "It Happened One Night." Your trip might be one long, chilly happy-ending movie. David: I was thinking of asking your favorite snow and politics story. I'm a fan of the famously apocryphal headline from back in the days when The New York Post was a liberal newspaper: "Snowstorm Hits City: Blacks, Jews Suffer Most." I also was in Chicago when Jane Byrne won election almost entirely on the back of a botched snow recovery effort by Richard J. Daley's successor. Gail: Well, the first rule is you have to show up. I was in Connecticut when the governor, Thomas Meskill, failed to return from a family skiing trip when the state was hit by a terrible winter storm. That was really the end of his political career. Finito. He did go on to become a distinguished federal judge. But when I heard he had passed away, my first thought was: snowstorm. David: I always thought it was totally unfair to blame a mayor for snowplow problems. It's like blaming Hillary Clinton for security at the Benghazi compound. Some decisions have to be taken at a level below the top. Gail: You obviously can't blame your elected officials for bad weather. But for the snowplows, sure - if they cut the snow equipment budget. Here in New York, we frequently complain that the snowplows were sent to the wrong places. The wrong places being neighborhoods other than our own. Now that I think of it, my most memorable snow story was in New York. One year when I was a reporter on the dreaded weather beat, the snowplow guys went off to get their road salt and inadvertently picked a pile of ground glass instead. True story. Flat bicycle tires all over Park Slope. David: I'm a moderate fan of Isaiah Berlin's notion (or it could be Berlin citing Tolstoy) that leaders are like rams being fattened for slaughter. They are so pleased they are being polished and fed and treated so royally, they don't even think about the cruel ending that fate has in store. Gail: Well duh, they're sheep. David: The people who rise the highest are most vulnerable to a bad storm, a stupid aide, a random recession. Their position gives them the illusion of power but really magnifies their vulnerability. Gail: True. I do remember hearing a cabinet secretary muse about how strange it was to realize you're responsible for the actions of thousands and thousands of government workers, some of whom were undoubtedly making mistakes, or even breaking the law, at that very moment. David: This brings me to David Remnick's profile of Obama in the heart of his second term, which Frank Bruni wrote about earlier this week. Gail: That's a great profile, and a great column by Frank, who pointed out that both George W. Bush and Barack Obama shared a similar quality of insularity and detachment while in the White House. David: Obama comes across very well, I think, mostly for his awareness of the limits on the power of the presidency at this moment in history. I call that realism, but you may think it passivity. Gail: Well, there's nothing wrong with a little "Yes I can." But to be honest, if the president told a reporter that he had great confidence this would be the year we'd see immigration reform, better gun control, tax reform and a hike in the minimum wage, I'd probably be less excited than worried about his mental health. David: But I wanted to veer off and ask you about politics and friendship. He cites the fact that Obama adopted a "no new friends" rule when he took up his presidential campaign. Can this ever be a good idea for anybody? Gail: Probably not. I'd like to think that the ordeal of a campaign - or a presidency - would throw politicians in contact with total strangers whose talents and good judgment they'd come to appreciate. And then they'd work together on great issues and form a lifelong bond. Like Katniss and what's-his-name in "Hunger Games." But mostly it just seems to be that your average president hangs out with people he trusts because they liked him when he wasn't the most powerful human being in the world. David: Adopting such a rule seems to suggest some degree of suspiciousness - the idea that the friends one might make while running for or occupying the presidency will inherently be dishonest or self-seeking. It also depends on a certain distrust of yourself: That you won't be able to tell which of your new friends are untrustworthy, therefore you should have no new ones. Also, if all your friends are from Chicago, it might be hard to immerse yourself in the job and reality you have in Washington. Gail: The alternative is for a president to be prepared to ditch beloved friends completely when they get in the way. And then make new besties who are useful until they aren't. Remember how the Clintons brought all that Arkansas crowd with them to Washington? Then, poof. David: I once had lunch with a senator and I asked him if he'd made any friends in the Senate. He said not really but one doesn't really make many new friends after 40 anyway. That is entirely contrary to most human experience. Most people have an evolving set of friendships as their lives evolve. Gail: Yes, that may say more about senators than about the human experience. David: It seems to me it's especially important to have updated friendships if you are entering a new environment with new challenges, like, say, becoming president of the United States. Otherwise you are an alien in your new life, drawn back to a reality that no longer surrounds you. Gail: Well, there's always the family. But you don't want the family in the job. One of the many, many lessons we have learned from the Clintons, along with dumping old friends when necessary, is that you do not want the First Spouse sitting in the next office sending out policy memos. No matter how smart the spouse, it screws up everything. Hillary is the best learner-from-mistakes in the world. If she runs for president, I hope she'll make it clear that she understands that lesson. David: I agree with you completely about Hillary Clinton being a great learner, by the way. But family members are kind of hard to control.