Beatty Bites Back

Veteran actor and director Warren Beatty, his wife Annette Bening, and their four children sweltered gamely through a Saturday, May 21 graduation ceremony for UC Berkeley's Goldman School of Public Policy. Beatty, a longtime political activist who has campaigned for every Democratic presidential candidate since Robert Kennedy, gave a keynote speech that was blistering in its criticism of California Governor and fellow Hollywood actor Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Wearing UC Berkeley regalia (he dropped out of Northwestern University to study acting), Beatty cracked plenty of jokes but did not mince words about his disappointment in the direction that California is heading fiscally and philosophically. His performance was reminiscent of the candid, fed-up character he played in the movie "Bulworth" -- a Democratic Senator running for re-election in California -- which he also directed and cowrote.

Multiple news crews were in attendance in Faculty Glade, drawn by rumors that Beatty would declare his intent to replace Schwarzenegger. He did not do so, but he did have this to say: "Although I don't want to run for governor, I'd do one helluva lot better job than he's done." However, in answer to reporters' questions immediately following the ceremony, Beatty said that he "was not ruling out" a run for governor.

The prepared text of his speech follows.

Good morning. It's just after 10:00. In Hollywood it's time to get out of bed and seize the day.

Let me say first how honored I am to have been invited to speak here at your school of public policy. I'm a Hollywood movie actor, and for public policy I think you know what that can mean.

Perhaps you are wondering not only why you have invited me here, but why I have decided to come.

An old compatriot of mine through many political campaigns once told me something his father, who was a member of the Tennessee state legislature, had said to him when he was a child: That the greatest gift God can give a man is to enjoy the sound of his own voice. And the second greatest gift is to get somebody else to listen to it.

So: Forgive me -- you have fallen into my trap.

Hence my immediate, enthusiastic and, I must emphasize, respectful acceptance of your invitation to speak at the country's No. 1-rated school of public policy. Not that I know how to give a commencement speech.

It's been said that old people like to give good advice to cheer themselves up for no longer being able to provide a bad example.

So I'll assume I should address myself primarily to public policy and try to avoid too much presumptuous advice, although I do like to give it.

I grew up a nice Southern Baptist boy in Virginia. My parents and grandparents were teachers, and I became rich and famous 46 years ago.

I can tell you with no hesitation at all that the most striking perk of fame and fortune is access. Not only access to people and pleasure and privilege and places, but to podiums. And since I've been lucky enough to have an unusual amount of access beginning in my early 20s, I've always thought it's a shame not to use it to learn from those in power and then, with humility and civility, irritate, agitate, inform and even once in a while encourage them with unsolicited advice. Sometimes privately but I think you have to be ready to do it from podiums.

Now, with the podium of the Internet and the new technology, everybody has more access. My advice to you is that if you don't use it for more dialectic and more argument and enjoy the sound of your own voice on public policy -- it's a shame, you may have wasted your time here. Because with the new access, it's difficult to ignore that, primarily because of the way our political campaigns are financed, the public policy of the world's best functioning democracy drifts further and further into a plutocracy, a state in which the wealthy class rules. And most of the public sleeps.