The New York Times's Mark Leibovich wrote last week that a Romney "operations" guy ordered him not to follow Romney's caravan, essentially pulled him over, and told him that they'd run his license plate through a database of some sort. The Romney campaign denies this, flatly.
Nothing riles up the press like wanna-be security goons puffing their chests out for no reason. I admit to feeling empathetically riled up on Leibovich's behalf. (So does CNN). The absurdity of it all -- how the heck are we supposed to cover all of Romney's events if we're not allowed to follow his motorcade? And who the heck gave these security guys permission to hassle us for doing our jobs? And why would sweet, eagle-eyed Mark Leibovich be deemed a threat? (Ok, he looks fierce, but he's a really nice guy.) 
Enough self-righteousness!
"We don't talk about the governor's security, period," says Matt Rhoades, Romney's communications chief.
But based on my own observations, my guess is that the Leibovich story is not really the symptom of a larger Wannaseemlikeapotus-itis outbreak among Romney's staff.
It's probably just a single case of stupid: some operations guy felt he needed to be more important than he was, and so he lied to Leibovich, puffed out his chest, and made himself look ridiculous in the process.
For one thing, Romney is fairly accessible -- he holds media availabilities regularly. And, this one incident excepted, Romney's "operations staff" is well aware that reporters need to follow Romney's caravan. All they've asked in the past is that we reporters make our vehicles known to Romney's advance/operations/security guys.
Then there's the theatre: a security detail with clear-coil ear pieces, dark suits, and dark-colored SUVs is a Tony-award-winning presidential set piece; it throws a barely mistakable aura of importance around the candidate; it reminds average folks of the security cocoon that surrounds important, sober, powerful people, and it reminds the candidate that he is important, sober and powerful. And rich. For about $250,000 a year, you too can look presidential.
The non-cynical hemisphere of my brain says that Romney's staff doesn't want to take any chances; that his decisions as governor angered many people; that the press can be too aggressive at times; that it's a helpful way to control Romney's immediate environment and speed him to-and-from events. Also, maybe Romney needs no help to look presidential. So what if a big entourage ups his "out of touch" quotient? It's a necessary evil.
As for security, generally, threats are by their nature asymmetric, and if Romney sincerely believes himself to be under threat of bodily harm, then, absent any way to judge the truth of that proposition, by no means should anyone really question that.
Fortunately, there is a fairly objective standard for determining, right now, whether threat assessment professionals are worried about Romney.
If the United States Secret Service determined that Romney was in danger, then the bipartisan body that allocates protection to candidates would certainly send the two men their protective details. One can only assume, from the absence of the Service, that the relative threat to their persons is low. (The Service protects Barack Obama, codenamed "Renegage," and by statute protects the former first lady, Hillary Clinton, codenamed (I think) "Evergreen.")
Rudy Giuliani employs more than a half dozen professional bodyguards; that the Service hasn't come aboard yet in his case is surprising, given his high-profile role as the exemplar of American values after September 11. I've seen Giuliani's guys in action for a few months now. At the beginning, they were a little too hands-on with the crowds; now, they're appropriate -- watchful as ever, omnipresent, but not overbearing; they let people touch the candidate, and they let the press do our jobs. They're professionals -- they've figured out a good balance between access and security.
Incidentally, a Giuliani spokesperson wasn't able to say precisely who pays for the bodyguards. I'm guessing that Giuliani Partners does, because I wasn't able to find any record of them in Giuliani's campaign disbursements.
Though they occasionally annoy campaign advance staff, the U.S. Secret Service has the 'open protective circle' concept down cold, although there are occasionally snafus: I saw one agent in New Hampshire nearly tackle Obama's New Hampshire state director because they did not yet recognize him.
Some candidates are way of security altogether.
In September of 2003, as Howard Dean was attracting mammoth, touchy-feely crowds wherever he went, I remember sitting on the campaign plane listening to Dean argue with his deputy campaign manager about the necessity of private security. Dean's staff was worried, but Dean himself didn't want to be separated from his public. After all, a big guy already hung around him -- his body man, Mike O'Mary, who was always dressed in a crisp suit and was regularly mistaken for a bodyguard.
Dean would subsequently avail himself of the option of security almost never, the exceptions being when eager-beaver hosts and hotels and venues would provide him with a detail, free of charge. He did not seem to enjoy the new attention.
| 
