His acceptance was a classy middle-way solution. Declining the prize, though, might have made a greater impact.

If I were the President right now, I might feel a little bit like a doctor being congratulated for successfully treating my sickest patient, when I know the prognosis is still unsure. Barack Obama's promises to promote peace loom large, but no one claims that much progress has been made to date.

On a positive note, Obama's speech today impressed me; he lowered my cynicism level significantly by asserting that he has not yet earned the prize:

"To be honest, I do not feel that I deserve to be in the company of so many of the transformative figures who have been honored by this prize"

"I do not view it as a recognition of my own accomplishments. But rather as an affirmation of American leadership. ... I will accept this award as a call to action."

This kind of talk is encouraging, and hopefully will go a long way to quiet critics who have already begun trumpeting the ridiculousness of presenting Obama with the Prize so early in his presidency (much is being made of how the nomination period ended only two weeks after he took office). But I can't help but wonder if respectfully declining the Prize would have been an even more powerful way for the President to leave his critics with nothing to say.

In 1973, Le Duc Tho was awarded the same prize (jointly with Henry Kissinger) for fostering peace in Vietnam. However, he declined it because he felt that the peace for which he was being honored did not yet exist.

Had Obama done the same, it would have been an astounding statement of humility. And, had he made a speech very similar to the one he gave today, an even more potent statement of purpose.