"I don't think the intelligence reports are all that hot. Some days I get more out of the New York Times"
About this Quote
A president confessing he learns more from the New York Times than from his own intelligence briefings is either a devastating joke or a quiet indictment of the machinery built to keep him informed. Kennedy’s line works because it punctures the myth of omniscient statecraft: the idea that secret agencies, armed with classified access, naturally outclass the public record. He’s not praising journalism as pure truth. He’s needling bureaucracy.
The intent is partly managerial. JFK is signaling impatience with intel that’s stale, overcautious, or written to protect the agency rather than enlighten the decision-maker. “All that hot” is tellingly casual, a businessman’s phrase for a product that isn’t performing. That choice of diction strips the aura from the intelligence community and reframes it as a service failing its client.
The subtext carries a sharper edge: public institutions can become so obsessed with secrecy, hierarchy, and internal consensus that they miss what open-source reporting catches through proximity, curiosity, and competitive pressure. The Times, for all its blind spots, is forced to publish; it has to be timely, legible, and persuasive. Intelligence often isn’t.
Context matters. Kennedy governed in the high-gloss, high-stakes early Cold War, when the CIA’s prestige and autonomy were expanding, and when recent failures and near-failures (the looming Bay of Pigs era mentality) made “trust the experts” a dangerous reflex. The line positions JFK as a reader-president: skeptical, image-conscious, and aware that information isn’t power unless it’s usable. It’s also a warning: if the best insights are in the paper, the secret state may be performing importance rather than producing clarity.
The intent is partly managerial. JFK is signaling impatience with intel that’s stale, overcautious, or written to protect the agency rather than enlighten the decision-maker. “All that hot” is tellingly casual, a businessman’s phrase for a product that isn’t performing. That choice of diction strips the aura from the intelligence community and reframes it as a service failing its client.
The subtext carries a sharper edge: public institutions can become so obsessed with secrecy, hierarchy, and internal consensus that they miss what open-source reporting catches through proximity, curiosity, and competitive pressure. The Times, for all its blind spots, is forced to publish; it has to be timely, legible, and persuasive. Intelligence often isn’t.
Context matters. Kennedy governed in the high-gloss, high-stakes early Cold War, when the CIA’s prestige and autonomy were expanding, and when recent failures and near-failures (the looming Bay of Pigs era mentality) made “trust the experts” a dangerous reflex. The line positions JFK as a reader-president: skeptical, image-conscious, and aware that information isn’t power unless it’s usable. It’s also a warning: if the best insights are in the paper, the secret state may be performing importance rather than producing clarity.
Quote Details
| Topic | Witty One-Liners |
|---|
More Quotes by John
Add to List
