Bob Woodward was on to something when he noted that the Hillary Clinton email scandal bears some similarities to the scandal that erupted forty years ago over President Richard Nixon’s Oval Office tapes. Indeed, viewing the firestorm over Clinton’s private email server in light of the controversies that dogged Nixon’s political career underscores how the popular way of framing “ServerGate”–as an issue about classified documents–obscures its more significant implications.

As the Clinton campaign has rightly pointed out, the whole debate about the former Secretary of State’s handling of classified material ignores the confused and ridiculous way in which the United States government decides whether a document should become classified in the first place. Given the poor protocols in place, making political hay out of the issue is inappropriate and a distraction from graver issues of policy.

More crucial is the parallel in attitude between Nixon and Clinton, which may presage problems for the Democratic frontrunner. Both are figures whose careers have given them little reason to feel anything but loathing and mistrust for the press. Nixon famously expressed those sentiments when, after losing the 1962 gubernatorial race in California, he declared, “You don’t have Nixon to kick around any more.”

While in office, Nixon’s efforts to combat leaks and his distrust of the press led to increasingly poor decisions. Seen in the context of eternal hostility towards the media and the Eastern Establishment more generally, Nixon’s decision to cover up his lieutenants’ increasingly illegal activities is the act of a President who never overcame his impression that everyone was out to get him. His desire for complete control led him to lose it entirely.

Therein lies the danger for candidate Clinton. Creating a private email server as Secretary of State is the act of someone with a deep mistrust of anyone but her closest advisers. And while the Clintons’ personal history with the media might justify some of that mistrust, mistrust alone is not sufficient justification to mollify critics in the media, let alone the opposing party and members of the public who are understandably confused by this minor but telling communications fiasco.

Moreover, the presumable purpose of the private server–privacy–has already backfired. Clinton’s attempts to shield her emails from unwanted attention led to the second biggest media circus of the campaign so far, falling just behind Donald Trump’s existence. Just as Nixon’s attempts to protect himself led to his resignation, Clinton’s play for secrecy has led to a very public mess.

Mrs. Clinton should, however, draw some positive lessons from the comparison between her and our 37th President. For one, before Watergate, Nixon was a masterful political survivor. Faced with an apparently crippling scandal as the Republican Party’s candidate for Vice-President in 1952, he delivered the famous “Checkers Speech,” and was able to salvage his career. Unfortunately, Nixon apparently forgot the lessons of 1952 when he most needed them twenty years later, and failed to get out ahead of the Watergate story. His 1973 speech on his final scandal was too little, too late.

The time for Secretary Clinton’s own “Checkers Speech” is approaching. Just as her opponent in the 2008 Democratic Primary, then-Senator Barack Obama, was able to calm the uproar around his pastor with a speech on race relations, a well-timed and honest speech that deals with issues of trust head-on might help right the ship of the Clinton campaign and remind voters of her policy priorities. Just because Clinton has weathered crises in the past does not mean she should be complacent about addressing this one; after all, Nixon’s past performance in 1952 was little guarantee of his future success in the 1970s.

Another reason for Clinton to take heart from the Nixon analogy is that Nixon was far from the worst President in American history, despite his ignominious end. He oversaw one of the great foreign policy coups in American history, the opening to China; he signed the Clean Air Act and created the EPA, ushering in the modern era of sane environmental regulation; and he used the federal government’s clout to help quietly finish the desegregation of Southern schools. He also supported affirmative action, and ushered in the Occupational Safety and Health Administration and the Equal Opportunity Employment Commission. Of course, Nixon was far from perfect: his acceptance of local housing discrimination over the objections of his Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, former Michigan Governor George Romney, is one prominent example of his placing of politics over people. Compared to the modern day Republican Party, however, Nixon might as well have been a Marxist.

All of which is to say that a need to be in control need not be a detriment to a successful presidency. Clinton may yet make a transformative president—one who can consolidate the gains of the Obama years and begin the tough work of reforming the criminal justice system, addressing economic inequality, and reconfiguring America’s global strategy for the 21st century. First, however, she needs to ensure that the very obsessiveness that might make her an effective chief executive does not lead to her premature political demise.

Nelson L. Barrette '17, a Crimson editorial executive, is a history concentrator in Winthrop House. His column appears on alternate Fridays.