Wednesday, August 12, 2026

Mistakes Were Made

By Nick Catoggio

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

 

Last month Democratic Sen. Jon Ossoff made news at a confirmation hearing for Jay Clayton, the president’s choice to be director of national intelligence. Normally senators use their allotted time to probe nominees on policy, but Ossoff had something more clever in mind.

 

Who won the 2020 election?” he asked.

 

Stripped of political context, that’s a question that a perspicacious 5-year-old could answer. But for a Republican official whose career depends on Donald Trump’s favor, it’s the equivalent of the riddle of the Sphinx—except in this case you die if you give the right answer, not the wrong one.

 

So Clayton refused, dodging demands for a response for two minutes. Ossoff wanted to show that the nominee couldn’t be trusted to stand up to the president if Trump ordered him to behave unethically, and he succeeded.

 

In hindsight, though, there may have been an answer available to Clayton that would have disarmed the senator. He could have shrugged, chuckled, and simply said, “2020 was crazy, man.

 

That’s essentially what Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez did last weekend when she was asked about Francesca Hong.

 

Hong is the frontrunner in today’s Wisconsin Democratic gubernatorial primary. A progressive, she’s come to national attention for some of her social media musings during the pandemic. Along with the usual “defund the police” claptrap, she once proposed, uh, canceling Thanksgiving. Which isn’t the only American holiday that rubs her the wrong way, it turns out.

 

She began backtracking (sort of?) as the primary approached, but feeling ambivalent—at best—about Thanksgiving is unimpeachable evidence of the weird, alienating cultural preferences for which adversarial leftists are known and loathed. What do you make of sentiments like the ones Hong expressed, ABC News anchor Jonathan Karl asked Ocasio-Cortez?

 

“I have a local city councilman that has this saying: Woke 1 was crazy,” she replied with a laugh amid a longer answer about the disorientation of the COVID era having led some Democrats to consider implausibly radical solutions to social problems.

 

My first thought upon hearing that was to focus on the number. “Calling it ‘Woke 1’ is like calling it ‘World War One’ in 1930,” as National Review’s Dan McLaughlin put it. If the original was crazy by their own admission, why are progressives planning a sequel?

 

Shouldn’t they wait a decade or two before proceeding to the inevitable “real wokeness has never been tried” revival?

 

My second thought was that a shrug and a laugh ain’t gonna cut it here.

 

Woke 2?

 

The most one can say of Ocasio-Cortez’s evolution on Woke 1 is that it’s more considered than Hong’s sudden, opportunistic, election-driven awakening about Thanksgiving. Compare AOC’s speeches to the Democratic National Convention in 2020 and in 2024, and you’ll find that she was already pivoting away (somewhat) from the leftist cultural cant she embraced earlier in her career and toward economic populism before Trump was reelected.

 

Sooner than many progressives, she seems to have grasped that socialism’s growth potential lies in kitchen-table issues, not in making America safer for criminals. And so there’s an element of calculation in her glib mirth about the woke era: Her laughter aims to reassure the median voter that she now shares their belief that the project was comically absurd.

 

But it’s a flimsy reckoning. “Ocasio-Cortez’s implication is that that ‘crazy’ moment was something that happened to her and her ideological compatriots—like an earthquake or an invasion from the sea—rather than something that was contrived, dispersed, and enforced by her and her ideological compatriots,” Charles Cooke writes at National Review. Indeed. “Woke 1 was crazy” is a millennial version of politicians’ notoriously weaselly habit of saying “mistakes were made” rather than forthrightly admitting an error.

 

Which mistakes, specifically? Who made them?

 

Laughing it off is also AOC’s way of minimizing the pernicious excesses of that era by treating them as harmlessly goofy while conveniently sparing herself from having to confront the progressives who supported them—many of whom still support them now, no doubt, and would resent being told by her that they’d been “excessive.” That’s the real problem here: Having succumbed to Woke 1, there’s no principled (as opposed to electoral) reason to think Ocasio-Cortez and “normie” Democrats like Kamala Harris wouldn’t succumb to it again rather than risk challenging left-wing activists over its resurgence.

 

In 2020 Democratic leaders lacked the clarity or the fortitude to reject an ideological mania that ranged from utopian idiocy about abolishing prisons to apologias for rioting after George Floyd’s murder to neo-McCarthyite cancellation campaigns aimed at ruining people professionally for holding the wrong beliefs about, say, transgenderism. Even now, they’re so unsure of their own willingness and ability to tamp down another wave of it that they’re implicitly holding out the possibility of “Woke 2.” (Harris is racing to embrace some of the left’s newer terrible ideas to get a leg up in the 2028 primary.) Why would I trust them to govern going forward, even if they’re now vaguely kinda sorta repentant?

 

I don’t trust Todd Blanche to manage the Justice Department despite the feeble remorse he pretended to feel about midwifing the president’s “cash for MAGA criminals” slush fund. I wouldn’t trust any Republican with power who supported Trump’s coup plot in 2020 even if he or she now claimed to be contrite. Repentance is cheap in politics; character, as demonstrated by terrible judgment, is destiny. If your reaction to the Woke 1 era is to laugh it off and muse that neo-McCarthyism was crazy, man, you’ve told us something important about your own character.

 

Also: Why the past tense? Not since 2020 has Woke 1 looked as lively as it does right now thanks to Ocasio-Cortez’s friends at the Democratic Socialists of America, who’ve beaten the center-left in numerous primaries this year.

 

Two weeks ago, the national co-chair of the organization affirmed that it hopes to abolish borders and prisons someday and aims to defund the Pentagon if it’s ever in a position to do so. Newbie DSA candidates like Darializa Avila Chevalier who are running in safe blue districts continue to hold radical positions about, for instance, ending all deportations. Francesca Hong’s change of heart about the joys of Thanksgiving might plausibly be understood less as a matter of genuine conversion than as a concession to the fact that she’s running in a 50-50 state that Trump won in 2024.

 

Declaring that “Woke 1 was crazy” amounts to false advertising in context, reassuring swing voters that DSAers have abandoned cultural radicalism when many have done no such thing.

 

But even if you’re willing to concede AOC’s point and allow that progressives have moved on to some substantively different form of wokeness (“Woke 2,” I suppose), it’s old wine in new bottles. “The mistakes of ‘Woke 1’—people expressing very strongly held, very simplistic opinions about complicated issues based on peer pressure and superficial memes without bothering to learn anything about the topic at hand—just continue today on new subjects rather than policing,” Matt Yglesias observed. Ask the far-left pro-trans California lawmaker who got chased out of an LGBT rally for not denouncing Israel’s operations in Gaza quickly enough about that.

 

Or ask Michigan’s Jewish attorney general, Dana Nessel, who doesn’t feel safe attending her party’s convention this year and is begging the state’s Democratic nominee for Senate to stop making AIPAC the villain behind every political problem. I doubt he will—but maybe, sometime circa 2032, Nessel will have the consolation of watching Sen. Abdul El-Sayed reflect on this moment and say, with a giggle, “Woke 2 was crazy.”

 

And it will be crazy, for the same reason Woke 1 was crazy and the same reason right-wing postliberalism is crazy crazy crazy. They’re all expressions of populism, and populism is almost unfailingly paranoid, demagogic, mobbish, and stupidly reductionist in how it tries to solve problems. As one of my editors said this morning, whatever you think of Woke 1 bugaboos like Drag Queen Story Hour, they surely did less damage to America than having actual Marxists in Congress setting policy will.

 

What’s interesting to me is that a socialist luminary like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is willing to say “Woke 1 was crazy” yet virtually no right-wingers are willing to concede the same point about the past populist excesses of their own movement.

 

Why?

 

Permission.

 

I think it’s largely a matter of “permission.” The left has received a degree of permission to distance itself, sincerely or otherwise, from toxic aspects of its preferred form of populism that the right simply hasn’t.

 

That sense of permission derives from events. In 2024 Democrats lost to an unbalanced convicted felon three years after he tried to overthrow the government, in part because many of the nonwhite working-class voters on whom they depend preferred Trump’s law-and-order message to Joe Biden’s open-borders policy. Losing to a proto-fascist is a strong democratic signal that it’s time to tone it down a bit about abolishing police and prisons and angrily insisting that trans women are women.

 

Lingering high inflation and the affordability crisis also contributed to the left’s sense of permission to pivot away (somewhat) from cultural radicalism. A noun, a verb, and “AIPAC” might work in a Democratic primary, but I expect El-Sayed will spend most of his time this fall pushing the same message every other candidate in his party will, that reducing the cost of living is the left’s—and America’s—most urgent priority. Sure, they might concede, abolishing prisons is still important, but it’s just not at the top of the agenda right now.

 

Check back with them in 2090 or so.

 

Besides, frustrations over electoral failures since 2016 may have left progressives sufficiently hungry for success that they’re now willing to strategically retreat from certain outré beliefs to a degree that the right is not. Right-wing populism triumphed nationally, after all; why would Trumpists moderate when radicalism has been such a success? Bernie Sanders supporters don’t have the luxury of that logic. If the DSA wants to take over the Democratic Party, or at least force the party’s leadership to take its concerns more seriously, it needs to expand its power in Congress.

 

If that means dialing it down a bit about taxpayer-funded gender-reassignment surgeries for federal prisoners, some are now desperate enough for power to do that. Woke 1 was crazy, y’all.

 

There’s no widespread right-wing counterpart to that attitude—yet—because its version of Woke 1 never ended.

 

The GOP’s equivalent of Woke 1 is Trumpism, and Republicans are still firmly in the grip of it. Certain shrilly dogmatic postliberals may have reached the point where they’re willing to say Trumpism was crazy, but we’re years away from that sentiment going mainstream on the right, assuming it ever does. To say it now would be to undermine the leader of the party, a difficulty that AOC and other pseudo-critics of wokeness on the left don’t face. It’s one thing to disparage a style of populist politics in the abstract, as she has, but to disparage it when it’s embodied in a person feels like treachery.

 

Especially when that person operates as supreme authority and arbiter of a discrete moral system. Trump’s most cynically brilliant demagogic feat was preserving his political viability in 2024 by convincing the right after 2020 that he hadn’t actually lost. That made it impossible for Republican politicians to reflect, à la Ocasio-Cortez, that Trumpism had been “crazy” lest doing so be seen as immorally validating the legitimacy of Democrats’ victory. The right can’t learn lessons from election results the way the left has because it’s been programmed to interpret all defeats (or at least ones in which the president’s prestige is at stake) as the product of cheating.

 

Populist Republicans who believe they’re incapable of losing fairly conducted elections simply have no reason to reflect on their excesses. What excesses?

 

To see that blind spot at work, consider what happened yesterday. In the morning, the president signed an executive order that recommends splitting multi-dose vaccines like the measles, mumps, and rubella shot into separate injections, presumably to reduce the risk of autism (which, by the way, isn’t caused by vaccination). Won’t that make things unusually complicated and expensive for families, forcing them to visit the doctor three times instead of once? Trump had no answer. Is there even a valid health reason to split the shots up? There is, he said, because the multi-dose shot can be “quite lethal”—before admitting that his only evidence is "some people that say it is that way.”

 

Later the same day, Sen. Rand Paul released text messages recovered from a government phone that Anthony Fauci used during the pandemic. One series from January 2021 showed Fauci conferring with other science bureaucrats about a theoretical miscarriage risk that the COVID mRNA vaccine might pose to pregnant women, which he didn’t reveal at the time. Within hours, right-wing influencers were circulating data suggesting that the shot had caused no less than 82 percent of women injected during their first trimester of pregnancy to miscarry. The outrage online was apocalyptic. Fauci must pay.

 

But the CDC hadn’t yet recommended the vaccine for pregnant women in January 2021. That didn’t come until April of that year, after trial data confirmed there was no health risk from the shot during pregnancy. (There was, however, a risk from contracting severe COVID, which the shot was designed to prevent.) And the “82 percent” figure comes from a study that was debunked years ago, and which the tiniest bit of common sense would reveal couldn’t possibly be true. If women were miscarrying by the millions in the months after the shot hit the market, public awareness of it would not be limited to obscure Twitter threads in 2026.

 

Paranoid, demagogic, mobbish, and stupidly reductionist in addressing the problem of autism: This is the sort of populist policymaking you get from a movement that’s never had to reckon with its own excesses. Ocasio-Cortez’s version of “mistakes were made” is lame but still healthier than what’s on offer from the modern right.

 

There is a world, I think, in which Republican politicians might eventually concede that the Trump era involved a degree of, shall we say, “overreach.” The words “Trumpism was crazy” will never be uttered for fear of impugning the great man’s legacy, but you can imagine a scenario in which Democrats win everything in 2028 and, come 2032, the GOP nominee is forced to explain what he or she would do differently to avoid the sort of beating that Trumpism led to four years earlier.

 

Perhaps, with Trump long gone from politics by then, fictions about flawless populist politics being sabotaged by Democratic election-rigging will no longer be needed to hand-hold Republican voters. “We probably should have reined in the open bribery a little,” the nominee might say of our current era. Or “we should think carefully next time before turning the Justice Department into mafia enforcers for presidential vendettas.” Or “we might not want the White House claiming and then abusing virtually every constitutional power that Congress has.” Stuff like that.

 

But I doubt it. Barring a very surprising turn away from postliberalism by Republicans, critiques of Trumpism will almost certainly zero in on the Iran war and the cost of living rather than the various fascist excrescences the president has left on the constitutional order. To receive permission to reckon in a productive way with its civic and cultural errors, the right needed the Trump era to have been less electorally successful than it was and needed a waaaaay better—that is, more introspective and less power-hungry—caliber of conservative in its leadership class. That ship sailed long ago. Mistakes were made.

The DSA Has Slogans, but Isn’t Interested in Policies

By Jim Geraghty

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

 

Apparently, nothing is quite so devastating to the Democratic Socialists of America as simply and directly asking them, specifically, what policies they want to see enacted if their candidates win office.

 

The New Yorker’s David Remnick interviewed DSA co-chair Megan Romer Friday. It did not go well for Romer. You can watch the video here; notice Remnick did not ask her about algebra or obscure regulation details or historical dates. He simply asked her to go beyond the slogans and to articulate specific policies. And on issue after issue, she simply couldn’t:

 

Romer: But we do believe in taxing the hell out of millionaires, yeah, absolutely.

 

Remnick: Well, what does ‘taxing the hell out of them’ mean?

 

Romer: Uh, yeah, you know, again, I don’t have like a solid . . . but I think—

 

Remnick: But, shouldn’t you?

 

Romer: Um . . .

 

Remnick: I mean, if you’re the co-chair—

 

Romer: That’s a good question.

 

Remnick: If you’re the co-chair of the DSA, shouldn’t you be more specific than just taxing the hell out of something? What exactly do you mean?

 

Romer: So again, it’s democracy, right? And we have to look at what we need to spend and what we need. We don’t want to depend on the existence of millionaires because that means people are still getting exploited. So, yeah, we need to look at what we need to pay for in the interim, what sort of tax base we need for that to happen, and build from there.

 

The interview moved on to “prison abolition.”

 

Remnick: What does prison abolition mean to you?

 

Romer: So, again, let’s start from first principles, right? What do we need? We need safety,

 

Remnick: Let’s not begin from principles. Let’s begin from what is to be done, to use a Leninist phrase.

 

Romer: We need community safety. We need people to be safe. We need people to be able to live their lives without fear of being assaulted, without fear of being robbed, without fear of violence. What communities do we know are the safest? It’s not communities with cops on every corner, it’s communities that have good schools, good jobs, good park systems, good recreation for their teenagers, things like that.

 

Having asserted that “good park systems” make the public safer and cops do not, Romer never got around to specifying what prison abolition meant. The conversation then turned to “defunding the police”:

 

Remnick: What does defunding the police mean, in your mind?

 

Romer: Every year, police budgets go up, every year, there’s a backlog of rape kits that don’t get tested.

 

Remnick: But should they be maintained?

 

Romer: I am not in favor of getting rid of police entirely, tomorrow.

 

Remnick: No, defunding the police means no funding, I think that’s, you know, in plain English.

 

Romer: I don’t think so, I think it means—

 

Remnick: Well, tell me what it means.

 

Romer: I think it means taking funding back and moving it elsewhere, right? So, pulling some of that funding back and moving it elsewhere.

 

Remnick: To what extent?

 

Romer: To the extent to which we are fully funding social services, to which we are fully funding schools, lunch programs for kids, afterschool programs for kids. Communities should be clean and they should be safe, we should be funding putting trees up, so people have more. . . .

 

Note that in 2024, the most recent year that full data is available, the U.S. federal, state, and local governments collectively spent nearly $1 trillion on K–12 education that year. If American K–12 education spending was a separate country, it would be the 21st largest in the world in terms of GDP.

 

The U.S. Department of Agriculture spends $18.9 billion on the National School Lunch Program and $6.1 billion on the National School Breakfast Program. School meal programs are reimbursed by the USDA for each meal they serve.

 

The interview continued:

 

Remnick: I don’t think anybody’s going to argue about any of that, trees or anything of the like, but they’re concerned—

 

Romer: But they do. They do, because there’s always more money for the police budgets, and there is never money for, “How do we just literally make our community safer, nicer, healthier?”

 

Eventually, the discussion turned to foreign policy and the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

 

Remnick: In the weeks preceding the invasion of Ukraine, DSA’s international committee released a statement blaming NATO expansion and the United States essentially for the crisis. After the invasion, DSA released a statement condemning the invasion and calling for a cease-fire. There have been people in DSA who have been even more firm that it was mainly the United States’ fault that Russia felt compelled to invade Ukraine. How do you feel about it?

 

Romer: We do not believe in pouring U.S. money, military, weapons into anything — we don’t think it makes it better anywhere. But obviously Russia is this oligarchic dictatorship, which is hyper-capitalist, and Putin is this crazy right-wing oligarch, of course, he is going to make horrific human life ending decisions.

 

Remnick: Well, isn’t this precisely why those countries wanted to be in NATO?

 

Romer: [slight chuckle] Yes, but why aren’t we doing any amount of actual diplomacy? Why aren’t we doing any amount of actual . . . sending actual human beings to talk to human beings and figure out what—

 

Remnick: I don’t understand, what kind of — there’s been all kinds of diplomacy, however failed since the beginning of the invasion. We shouldn’t send weapons to the Ukrainians?

 

Romer: No.

 

Remnick: So, just allow Russia to overrun Ukraine entirely.

 

Romer: We should be sending huge teams of diplomats, we should be figuring out how to negotiate, how to get Russia off Ukraine’s back. We should — yeah, absolutely.

 

Remnick: So, Russia would get off of Ukraine’s back by us sending diplomats.

 

Romer: I don’t think that there is adequate negotiation, I don’t think that there has been anywhere near adequate diplomacy.

 

Remnick turned to what solutions the DSA wanted to see in the Middle East:

 

Remnick: What is the position that DSA is headed toward here? Is it for a two-state solution, or is it a binational, one-state solution? What in fact is the position of DSA?

 

Romer: Yeah, so our position is a free Palestine with the capital in Jerusalem. And so, I think that could be safely read as a one-state solution.

 

Remnick: So, the Camp David accords that were being negotiated at the beginning of the century, under the Clinton administration, had the Palestinians accepted it, that would’ve satisfied you?

 

Romer: Good question. I need to look at what the actual specifics there were, I don’t know them off the top of my head.

 

I will grant that the Camp David negotiations during Bill Clinton’s presidency are the one topic that Remnick asked about that is fairly obscure; by my math, Romer was 17 during the negotiations.

 

Remnick then asked about likely soon-to-be-Representative Darializa Avila Chevalier and her choice to attend an October 8, 2023, pro-Palestinian, pro-Hamas rally, which, Remnick said, many people saw as a justification of the October 7 attack:

 

Remnick: In other words, you would’ve gone to that rally, had you been able?

 

Romer: That’s a good question, I probably would have, yeah, yeah. I don’t live in New York City, so I wouldn’t have—

 

Remnick: One day after the slaughter of 1,200 people, and taking of over 200 hostages, you would’ve come and rallied behind Hamas?

 

Romer: I think that October 7 was largely inevitable. If you put people in an open-air concentration camp, and you deprive them of rights, of dignity, of food, of the ability to live in safety, you have to expect that they are going to not take that for that long. And that is not defending any harm of civilians or of non-combatants.

 

Remnick: Well, sure it is.

 

Romer: Do you think it is?

 

Remnick: You’re saying you’re supporting it.

 

Romer: I’m saying that I think it was inevitable. I think that you cannot put people in a cage and expect them not to revolt.

 

Later in the interview, Romer excused Hamas’s violence against gays:

 

Remnick: Queer-friendly is a good point. Earlier you expressed some support, I think I was reading you right, for Hamas. I wouldn’t call that a queer-friendly organization, would you?

 

Romer: I would not call Hamas queer-friendly, I would not say that you can get a lot of social rights when you’re under siege. I think that most queer-people who have been killed in Palestine have been killed by Israeli bombs.

 

In 2016, Hamas tortured and murdered one of its own commanders, Mahmoud Ishtiwi, for being gay. Documents recovered by the IDF in 2025 allegedly detailed Hamas torturing and executing recruits within its ranks for having gay sex. In 2022, unidentified assailants beheaded a young Palestinian man for being gay.

 

According to the Human Dignity Trust, “Same-sex sexual activity is prohibited in Gaza under the British Mandate Criminal Code Ordinance 1936. The relevant provision carries a maximum penalty of ten years’ imprisonment. Only men are criminalized under this law.

 

The law was inherited from the British. It continues to be in operation in Gaza today, though it is not in force elsewhere in Palestine.”

 

Near the end of the interview — perhaps sensing that she had not come across as knowledgeable and thoughtful in her answers — Romer emphasized that she doesn’t really speak on behalf of the Democratic Socialists of America:

 

Romer: So, if you’re looking to me to be the one true arbiter of DSA thought, I am absolutely not. I come from a—

 

Remnick: Who is? Or that doesn’t exist, and never will?

 

Romer: DSA, it doesn’t exist. A convention, I guess, would be the closest to the one true arbiter of DSA, and it happens every two years.

 

Over on the DSA Reddit, you can find DSA enthusiasts calling Remnick “a member of the ‘elite New York intellectual class’” who “considers himself above regular fly over state working class people.” (I feel like I’ve heard that kind of knee-jerk snide dismissal before.) But recall which questions tripped up Romer:

 

·         “What does ‘taxing the hell out of them’ mean?”

 

·         “What does prison abolition mean to you? ”

 

·         “What does defunding the police mean, in your mind? ”

 

·         “How do you feel about [Russia’s invasion of Ukraine]? ”

 

·         “What is the position that DSA is headed toward here? Is it for a two-state solution, or is it a binational, one-state solution?”

 

Those are not trivia questions. He’s asking her what she thinks. In theory, there’s no wrong answer.

 

I could write that Romer is a shallow, uninformed moron, and that would be a lot of fun and probably go viral. But it probably wouldn’t dissuade anyone who feels positively about the DSA. Fans of the socialist movement will probably dig in their heels and conclude, like that Reddit commenter, that Remnick, you, and I are being smug elitists because Romer had troubling answering those questions and articulating what policies she wanted to see.

 

So perhaps a better, more productive question to DSA fans is . . . shouldn’t a political movement that wants higher taxes on the rich be able to say what those tax rates ought to be? If you’re going to call for prison abolition, shouldn’t you be able to lay out what that would look like? If you don’t really want to “defund the police,” but merely want to reduce police budgets . . . shouldn’t you say what you mean and mean what you say?

 

And if you truly believe that Vladimir Putin is a “crazy right-wing oligarch” who makes “horrific human life ending decisions” — i.e., large-scale war crimes targeting civilians — don’t you need a better approach than just “sending huge teams of diplomats”?

 

In other words, if you want to dissuade a young socialist, don’t yell at them. Just show them Romer’s interview and ask them if they feel like those answers are sufficient.

 

ADDENDUM: Over in the Washington Post, an observation about how the Democratic grassroots’ rage at the party’s establishment is driven in large part by the events of 2024, and how Biden’s presidency ended:

 

“The cancer has spread. It’s metastasized into his bones and further,” Hunter Biden told the BBC. “It’s very painful. It’s very debilitating in many respects, but he’s still out there. He’s still doing his thing, that is, he so believes in this country and as long as he’s alive, I’m promising you, he’s going to continue to fight.”

 

Left, right or center, we should all be praying for Biden in his fight against cancer, and that he be spared as much pain as possible.

 

But we’re also left with the uncomfortable confirmation that if Biden, his family and his most ardent supporters had gotten their way, and he had somehow managed to get reelected for another term in 2024, he almost certainly would have had to resign the presidency over these debilitating health issues by now.

 

Already this morning, I’ve seen a decent number of readers insisting that had Biden been reelected, his family and team would have just attempted to hide his cancer and treatments from the public. They may well have tried, but bone metastasis is a sign of advanced cancer, and I don’t think a condition as serious as that, and the required treatments, could be successfully hidden for very long.

Trump’s Irrationality Is Dangerous

By Tom Nichols

Tuesday, August 04, 2026

 

Many Americans—and much of the rest of the world—have become inured to Donald Trump’s strange rants. When he shouts about sharks, when he drones on about his brilliant uncle, when he casually ponders violating the Constitution, his supporters try to dress his statements up as some kind of strategy: He’s not lost touch with reality, you see. He’s doing the weave, or he’s owning the libs. He’s fighting the fake news and flooding the zone. He knows what he’s doing.

 

These excuses have never really held much water. But his rant yesterday about the Reflecting Pool (speaking of things that don’t hold water) was a warning that the president has encased himself in the hard amber of irrationality that inevitably surrounds authoritarian leaders. He has become detached from reality—and that detachment is extremely dangerous.

 

The Reflecting Pool mess is different from other Trump obsessions because it reveals just how immune to evidence and logic his beliefs have become, even when a trusted lieutenant wheels an entire box of supporting evidence into the Oval Office. In Trump’s world, nothing is ever innocent. If something went wrong, the fault must lie with Americans conspiring against him, not with a contractor who did shabby work. And so the boss put out the order: Find the criminals who destroyed my lovely pool.

 

The task of prosecuting this inane case fell to Jeanine Pirro, who has known Trump for more than three decades. She has long been one of his most loyal defenders on Fox News, and she was his personal choice for the job of U.S. attorney for the District of Columbia after the failed nomination of Ed Martin. She dutifully charged multiple people with vandalizing the Reflecting Pool, including the Olympic athlete David Hearn. But last week, she moved to drop the case after admitting that the pool’s condition was “the result of a botched installation” and not of criminal activity. Trump immediately turned on her. In a Truth Social post after Pirro’s filing, Trump said he disagreed “100%” with his old friend. “I don’t know what she was thinking? To me, it was a pure case of VANDALISM.”

 

This outburst, however, was merely a warm-up for a nearly 10-minute performance yesterday afternoon in the Oval Office that went well beyond Trump’s usual whining. Pirro, he said, “choked” under pressure from the court. She “made a mistake. It was vandalism.” He continued:

 

One of the things was, the Reflecting Pool hasn’t worked since 1922, because it always leaked. It always leaked from 1922. You know, it’s the largest, longest pool ever, all that. The concept is beautiful, but it always leaked because of the size, because of maintenance, whatever. But it was built in 1922, and from the day it was built, it was—it leaked. Biden spent $58 million. Barack Hussein Obama spent much more than that. He said, “I have an idea. Let’s take the river from, let’s take the water from the Potomac.” So they took the water from the Potomac, and it was putrid. It was putrid. It was a disaster. Biden was a disaster.

 

But how did Trump know that Pirro was wrong and he was right? “We have photographs or tapes,” he said, “like moving cameras, right? We have them where people are on the side, cutting it with a box knife.” Trump then admitted that he wasn’t “thrilled” with the work the contractor did, but “in addition, there was vandalism.” He complained about some damage to the grass nearby, but then came back to the pool, where “they took knives or cutters, and they cut the material—it’s material. And they put their hands and they pulled it.”

 

Pirro undermined all of this in a lengthy filing to the court that accompanied her request to withdraw the case. Perhaps in an earlier time, when Trump appeared more amenable to listening to the advice of friends and trusted advisers, he might have been satisfied with the harassment of his opponents. As the New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan wrote in their recent book on Trump, he admitted that he wanted charges filed just to harass perceived enemies such as New York Attorney General Letitia James, even if the charges were unlikely to stick. “I want to make her life miserable,” they quote him as saying to an adviser.

 

But Trump has now passed from being a stubborn narcissist to a cocooned authoritarian. Political scientists since World War II have studied the problem of “irrational” leaders, people in positions of power who seem unable to accept any version of reality that conflicts with their assumptions. Irrational, in this sense, does not mean “stupid,” or “incompetent,” or “psychotic.” It refers more specifically to leaders who have become so trapped by their own self-regard, so isolated from the outside world, so imprisoned within their own sense of infallibility that they refuse to consider any arguments or information that conflicts with their beliefs.

 

Trump reportedly relishes being compared to some of the great dictators of the past, but he apparently does not comprehend how their stories are also warnings. Joseph Stalin was so certain he had outfoxed the Nazis that he fell into catatonic denial for several days after the Germans attacked in 1941. Saddam Hussein refused to believe that American troops were crossing into Iraq, even as tanks rumbled toward Baghdad. Nicolae Ceaușescu of Romania was one of many leaders throughout history who refused to believe that he was about to be deposed, despite troops advancing on their palace. (He and his wife died shouting orders at their firing squad.)

 

Trump’s detachment from reality is sometimes amusing and often alarming, but the price of his irrationality until now has been mostly economic and reputational (or, in the case of the Reflecting Pool, aesthetic, now that the cases against innocent Americans have been dropped). His belief in tariffs, for example, is a flatly irrational attachment to a tool that has been proven, over and over, to harm Americans. Likewise, his fixation on NATO has undermined decades of careful diplomacy and weakened the strongest alliance in history.

 

The war in Iran, however, has shown that Trump’s inability to perceive reality has become truly dangerous. He led the United States into a disastrous conflict because he thought his “gut” was smarter than the advisers who warned him that deposing Iran’s regime was unlikely. He continues to mislead the American people, and perhaps himself, about America’s strategic defeat at the hands of one of its worst enemies. The world economy and the balance of power have been changed, perhaps for many decades to come, because Trump cannot draw links between cause and effect; he does not understand that his actions and the failures that follow are somehow related to each other.

 

Iran is a disaster, but Trump’s irrationality could create other, even more perilous situations. When the water systems in seven states were recently subjected to cyberattacks, Trump blamed his fellow Americans, despite evidence of foreign involvement. What if America suffers another mass-terror attack, and Trump decides that it, too, is the work of disloyal Americans instead of foreigners? Will his underlings round people up based on such a delusion? Or perhaps Trump, if his party is beaten soundly in the midterms, will make up his mind that such a loss is impossible and call for invalidating the election’s results. He might even inspire his supporters to violence—as he did on January 6, 2021.

 

More worrisome is the possibility of a military crisis that unfolds quickly and threatens U.S. allies or the United States itself. If Russian President Vladimir Putin decides to test NATO and attacks a member of the alliance, or if China begins to move in the Pacific, could anyone in Trump’s inner circle contradict the president’s presumptions and biases? If, say, Russia or China or other powers go to a heightened state of nuclear alert, Trump would have to make decisions of potentially cataclysmic importance. Would he listen, even to basic information, if it conflicted with his omniscient gut?

 

Trump has always been notoriously un-briefable, but in his first term, he had people who would try to speak the truth to him. More important, he was capable, at least to some limited degree, of occasionally listening to those assistants. All of that is gone. Trump slamming his old friend Pirro shows that when even the most trusted allies offer him the truth, he won’t accept it.

 

Trump is not going to have some sudden epiphany about the need for an open and honest policy process. Like other authoritarians before him, the president has retreated, irrevocably, behind the walls of his own Forbidden City of the mind—a place where he is the emperor, his judgment is always right, and his commands must always be obeyed.

After Reality

By Abe Greenwald

Friday, August 07, 2026

 

In the Wall Street Journal, Peggy Noonan has a compelling column on the current popularity of socialism, and she ticks off a number of reasons for socialism’s appeal among Gen Z. Noonan cites broad disenchantment with free markets, the threat that AI poses to employment prospects, and ignorance of Soviet Communism, among other factors. These are all plausible, but I think the problem of Gen Z radicalization (whether socialist or anti-Semitic) is more deeply rooted and more pervasive than any of these factors, even in combination, can account for.

 

It’s not just that Gen Zs came too late to catch the USSR. They came too late to catch the real world altogether. What I’m referring to as the real world here is the manifest multidimensional reality in which humans once spent most of their lives, where they experienced the friction that comes from contact with other real people, challenging ideas, and historical events in real time. All that began to wink out sometime around 2007, when the iPhone was released. In the years since, we’ve migrated ever deeper into our screens and their facsimile of reality. And the pandemic hastened the change considerably.

 

Many of us, of course, are old enough to have experienced life before and after. There are people alive who’ve witnessed World War II, the Shoah, the Soviet nightmare, the birth of the State of Israel, and 9/11. But younger millennials and Gen Zs simply showed up after the fact—after all the facts. By the time they arrived, they mostly had to make do with the real world’s digital epilogue—“learning” about what happened before they were born from social media, influencers, and AI. What they’re getting is not so much history but a malcontent’s primer on the world that’s rumored to exist outside of their phones. And we’re moving inexorably into an age in which they and younger generations will become the majority.

 

The online world is a uniquely hospitable environment for both socialism and anti-Semitism to flourish in, and Gen Z (online an average of five hours a day) is being bombarded by both. Like the internet itself, socialism and anti-Semitism are primarily virtual. What do I mean by that? Certainly not that they don’t have monstrous real-world consequences. It’s that, at their cores, they both suppose notional worlds that mirror only the surface appearance of the real one. We often have to remind ourselves that “the internet isn’t the real world,” because the superficial similarities can be deceptive. This applies equally to the worlds of socialists and anti-Semites.  

 

Beneath its surface, the socialist’s world is populated with humans who are mostly unrecognizable: They’re not inclined to compete for goods, services, or status. They are made less in God’s image than in the image of eusocial insects, such as ants and bees, that work in highly cooperative colonies. Luckily for them, they are both infallible planners and natural rule-followers.

 

At the heart of the anti-Semite’s world, all the action is engineered secretly and a bit mystically by a people who make up 0.2 percent of the global population, the Jews. Through a vast, labyrinthine, and shadowy network tying finance to governance to media and beyond, world Jewry manipulates the other 99.8 percent of the population into betraying themselves for the benefit of the Jews.

 

If you showed up too late to see the real world in action, you don’t know how thoroughly ruinous these ideas are. And it’s much harder to remind yourself that what’s on your screen isn’t the genuine article. What is there to compare it to?

 

Here’s the most frightening part: Once you’ve become thoroughly acclimated to virtual terrain, the counterfeit realms of socialism and anti-Semitism may not seem all that foreign or dangerous. Maybe they’re just additions to the neighborhood.

Don’t Malign the U.S. Economy

By Rich Lowry

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

 

The United States of America may be the greatest place for functionally illiterate people to live in all of human history.

 

An eye-popping column in the Financial Times the other day noted how people in the U.S. with very low literacy make about as much per hour as the average worker in the U.K.

 

Is this the result of brilliant public policy, carefully crafted to boost the prospects of those on the margins? No, it’s a byproduct of the vast, endlessly dynamic wealth-generating machine that is the American economy.

 

The Financial Times also compared cohorts of low-literacy workers in the U.S. and the U.K.: “The same proportion of U.S. workers who score stunningly low on literacy earn an average of almost $30 per hour, and two-thirds of them are in work. Their British counterparts make the equivalent of $20 and fewer than half are employed.”

 

It continued: “Factory workers in the U.S. earn 60 per cent more than in the U.K. after adjusting for differences in living costs. Plumbers and electricians earn 90 per cent more, and retail workers earn double.”

 

While the U.K. isn’t what it used to be, it’s still a major G-7 economy — yet it has been significantly outpaced by its former colony across the Atlantic.

 

Our political debate is characterized by a mismatch between the extraordinary, world-beating economic achievement of the United States on the one hand and the determination of the left — and some elements of the right — to throw out our economic system as a rank failure on the other.

 

This is not to deny the validity of real economic discontents — especially the high cost of housing, education, and health care — but perhaps no economic system has been so vilified while so consistently delivering.

 

The case for revolutionary change relies on dishonesty and misleading claims. Enter Bernie Sanders, the patron saint of the DSA, who recently posted on X a figure showing the United States with the highest child poverty rate among a group of developed countries at 21.1 percent.

 

“We must end the outrage,” he thundered, “that in the richest country in the history of the world, more than 1 in 5 children live in poverty.”

 

The problem with the number is that it is from the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development and measures income relative to a country’s median rather than absolute poverty. In other words, the statistic tells us where people stand compared with others in their own country, not about material deprivation as such. As critics of the Sanders post have pointed out, if everyone in the United States — including the poor — instantly earned twice what they make now, the OECD figure would find the same amount of “poverty”; the threshold for being poor would simply rise together with the median income.

 

(The official Census Bureau figure is 14.3 percent, by the way, and has substantially declined since the late 1950s.)

 

What the OECD figure is really about is inequality, an obsession of Sanders and his ilk, but not a good indicator of economic performance.

 

In the United States, wealthy people are very wealthy, but Americans across much of the income distribution are also richer than their counterparts in Western countries.

 

With our wealth comes incredibly high living standards compared with the rest of the developed world. If the U.K. or France were made states in the U.S., they’d rank near or below West Virginia and Mississippi in terms of nominal GDP per capita. And we’ve been increasing the economic gap with peer countries — Canada, the U.K., and the EU — over roughly the last 15 years.

 

So, by all means, make particular critiques of our system and suggest improvements. All such discussions, though, should begin with recognition of what we’ve built and a commitment to preserving it, rather than the DSA approach of hoping to guillotine as a class enemy the goose that keeps laying the golden egg.

Vote, Just Not for Kooks

By Jonah Goldberg

Wednesday, August 12, 2026

 

I often get asked for my advice on how to vote. I’m the first to concede these requests come from a very niche slice of the electorate—that tiny remnant of people who know who I am, value my opinion and share my exasperation with both parties.

 

I am going to answer the question. But first let me explain why I don’t like it.

 

I think too many pundits on the left and right fall into the habit of confusing or conflating the fortunes of a party with that of their philosophy. Many come by this tendency honestly. As the parties have polarized ideologically, it’s a natural assumption to think that the GOP and Democrats are the sole vessels for conservatism and progressivism, respectively.  

 

Add in the very human tendency to favor the politicians who return your phone calls and seek your approval, and that rooting interest can get even more intense.

 

One problem with this approach—and there are many—is that what is best for the GOP in an election year is not necessarily what is best for conservatism in the long run. The same goes for the Democrats and progressivism.

 

For instance, on many issues—abortion, trade, industrial policy, etc.—President Trump has moved the GOP leftward over his two terms. But just try telling most Republicans in 2016, 2020, or 2024 that a Republican victory would be bad for conservatism.

 

President Barack Obama wanted a very progressive agenda, and he got some of it. He also cost his party roughly 1,000 elected offices across his two terms and left behind a political climate that made the Trump presidency possible (and that erased many of Obama’s executive orders). President Joe Biden left his cause and his party in an even uglier ditch.

 

The point isn’t about political point-scoring. It’s simply to note that ideological and intellectual progress—however you define progress—doesn’t move in lockstep with electoral success or failure. In his 1996 State of the Union address, President Clinton declared that “the era of big government is over” and moved rightward on welfare reform. This was a victory for conservatism and a political loss for Republicans, because his triangulation got Clinton reelected.

 

Single-issue activists often understand this logic better than generic ideologues or partisans do. The last thing abortion rights activists want is for anti-abortion Democrats to become a major faction, just as pro-lifers don’t want Republicans who support abortion rights to gain political traction. But the same activists would love to see the other party move in their direction—because the goal isn’t to use the issue of abortion as a wedge issue or for fundraising, but to forge a bipartisan consensus.

 

That’s how I think about the proper goal of the “conservative movement”—to move America’s center of gravity rightward, not just the GOP’s center, or outermost fringe. This means conservatives should celebrate when conservative Democrats are nominated, even if that’s bad for Republicans electorally.

 

I also believe that candidates who discredit or deform conservatism by claiming to be conservative should lose.

 

Which brings me to my advice. I think that voters should be more interested in rewarding good behavior and good character than in ideological or partisan purity tests. That doesn’t mean ideology and partisanship are irrelevant. I think these things can be balanced.

 

Take the Senate race in Texas. Democrat James Talarico is ideologically not my cup of tea, and he is quite far to the left for Texas. But his Republican opponent, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, is in my view a corrupt gargoyle simply unfit for any office. I’m not here to debate that opinion, because the people seeking my advice generally share it.

 

So, if you’re a conservative who thinks Talarico is too left-wing and Paxton is bat-winged, don’t vote for either of them.

 

But you should still vote.

 

You can leave the Senate line blank while voting for other Republicans on the ballot (you can also select Libertarian candidate Ted Brown). Sending the message that your problem is Paxton, not Republicans, is one that Republicans and conservatives need to hear.

 

If I were a progressive, I would have the same approach toward candidates aligned with the Democratic Socialists of America who will hurt both the party and the cause. Vote for all the other Democrats, just not the radicals who spout the sort of nonsense that turns off more mainstream voters than they attract.

 

One reason our politics are such a mess is that fringe candidates know they can count on the reflexive support of their parties—and their pundits!—the moment they get the nomination. Strategically voting to end that dynamic is not inconsistent with the best interests of your ideological cause or your party, because those interests are often in tension in an election year.   

Being a Veteran Is Not Enough

By Mike Nelson

Wednesday, August 12, 2026

 

“I’m John Kerry, and I’m reporting for duty.” These were the first words said by the 2004 democratic candidate for president as he stood at the podium in Boston to accept the nomination. While his speech has largely been forgotten—overshadowed by an earlier speech by a charismatic Illinois state senator running for U.S. Senate—the implication and tone of the speech were clear. The phrasing of this first sentence, and the cringe-inducing hand salute Kerry offered during it, continued an overarching message for much of Kerry’s campaign. I’m a Vietnam veteran, therefore I’m qualified to be president.

 

Kerry was making this argument in the midst of an increasingly unpopular Iraq War in an attempt to draw a distinction between himself and President George W. Bush, the incumbent who had served as a pilot in the Air National Guard but had not gone overseas to Vietnam. Because it was the central argument in Kerry’s campaign, it made him uniquely susceptible to criticism of that service by his fellow Navy Swift Boat veterans.

 

But regardless of the tactical shortsightedness, it’s absolutely ridiculous for Kerry—or any candidate—to claim or even suggest that military service alone is a qualifier for elected office.

 

Candidates for political office highlighting their military service is nothing new. Probably the only fact any American can name about the 1840 presidential election (if they can name anything at all) is that William Henry Harrison’s campaign slogan was merely a boast about his victory at the Battle of Tippecanoe almost 30 years before. Still, nowadays, it seems more and more common that a veteran’s service is taken as sufficient qualification for office by itself, or as a sufficient cover and explanation for any questions voters might have about the candidate.

 

Graham Platner, the former Maine Democratic Senate hopeful, highlighted his service in the Marine Corps and later Army National Guard as a compelling part of his story. He spoke of his wartime service—often while wearing his 158th Cavalry sweatshirt—and highlighted it as a contrast to the Republican incumbent he was facing.

 

But not only did military experience serve as one of his primary arguments for voter support, as concerning details about Platner’s character and behavior began to emerge, it also became a defense against criticism. Platner and surrogates, including some veterans organizations, dismissed concerns about abhorrent comments, criminal behavior (admitted drug use and a DUI), and allegations of physical and emotional abuse toward former romantic partners—as though these kinds of things were understandable or even expected from a combat veteran. Only after a credible accusation of sexual assault did many of Platner’s fans drop their support.

 

But why was veteran status an excuse for any of it? Why was it seen as a compelling case for elected office when Platner made it, or when Kerry did? And why are politicians continuing to use their veteran credentials as an argument that they are superior to other candidates?

 

This phenomenon may be more common as military service becomes less so. After Harry Truman, the president during our victory in World War II, left office, seven of the eight presidents who followed him had all served in uniform during that conflict—the one outlier being Jimmy Carter who served in the Navy during the Korean War after graduating from Annapolis. Since the election of Bill Clinton, not a single combat veteran has occupied the Oval Office.

 

For the members of “the greatest generation” who entered politics, military and wartime service were not a significant argument for people’s votes primarily because such criteria were not unique. Among members of the 87th Congress (sworn in in 1961), for example, 65 percent were military veterans. They had lived their pre-politics lives during major conflicts, which mobilized vast numbers of volunteers and conscripts. In contrast, where roughly 70 percent of American men aged 18 to 35 served in World War II, that percentage dropped to roughly a quarter of the same age range during Vietnam, and only 2 to 3 percent during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

 

This shift in the commonality of military service may account for much of the over-attribution of other qualities to it. Because military life is so foreign to so many, it, and the people in it, might be over-idealized versions of the actual human beings that make up the armed forces. And because so many Americans dutifully wish to show respect for veterans’ service, they may be predisposed to give blanket endorsement to anyone who chose the path they did not. Indeed, this support can become distorted—people can fail to recognize that veterans are regular humans, not two-dimensional figures without the deficits and defects inherent to all mankind.

 

Strangely enough, many veterans in politics have not been satisfied merely to highlight their service and bask in the glow of civilian praise; some have taken it a step further to fabricate wild or misleading claims about their service. Former Iowa Sen. Tom Harkin and current Connecticut Sen.Richard Blumenthal both found themselves in hot water when they played rhetorical games about their service, each having suggested (or outright claimed) to have been veterans of the Vietnam War. In fact, both served in the military at the same time as the conflict but did not fight in the war itself—Vietnam “era” veterans vs. Vietnam veterans.

 

This trend of dishonest hyperbole has extended into the generation that has served during the War on Terror. Maryland Gov. Wes Moore, a Democrat, claimed to have been awarded a Bronze Star Medal years prior to it actually having been awarded. Republican Rep. Cory Mills of Florida, among many other controversies in which he is embroiled, seems to have fabricated claims of wartime acts which he used to retroactively lobby for a Bronze Star, and has made patently false claims about having served in the 75th Ranger Regiment and other special operations organizations. (Disclosure: I served with Mills in the same battalion task force in the 82nd Airborne during the first year of Operation Iraqi Freedom.) Republican Rep. Troy Nehls of Texas, who by all accounts served honorably in multiple deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan, nonetheless felt that service was not impressive enough by itself and chose to wear an unauthorized Combat Infantryman Badge lapel pin until the Army released a statement clarifying he was ineligible for the award.

 

The phenomenon of veteran politicians wearing excessive displays of their service is reaching epidemic levels. Wearing a single lapel pin isn’t excessive (I defer to @menswearguy for a ruling), but this has extended into wearing full-size military badges (e.g. Republican Rep. Pat Harrigan of North Carolina), filling every inch of lapel space with military pins and badges like a waiter at Chotchkie’s (e.g. former Republican Rep. Allen West of Florida), or branching out beyond to the lapel to wear badges on the suit breast pocket as if one were in uniform (e.g. Republican Rep. Rich McCormick of Georgia). These ever-more ostentatious displays seem to ensure against—heaven forbid—anyone being ignorant of these politicians’ status as veterans and, more specifically, the brag-worthy distinctions that are largely lost on civilians.

 

Veterans are, like the rest of society, not monolithic. There are virtuous veterans who served out of a sense of duty and patriotism and continue that dedication to their country and communities in other ways after their military service. There are also criminal and otherwise abhorrent veterans. Much of Platner’s questionable choices and contemptible behavior has been made public, but he is by no means alone—even among veterans in or seeking public office. The previously mentioned Rep. Mills has accrued an infamous litany of allegations ranging from widespread fraud in private business dealings, tax evasion, and domestic abuse, in addition to the false claims about his service. Ohio’s Rep. Max Miller, a former Marine although not a combat veteran, is facing allegations of domestic abuse toward his ex-wife and child, in addition to the claims he physically assaulted a girlfriend during the first Trump administration.

 

Over 2 million Americans served in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and even if one were to try and make the case that leadership at a certain level was a specific qualification for public office, this would still take a population of hundreds of thousands into account. But not only are the majority of these 2 million veterans not prepared to act as congressmen, senators, or presidential appointees, many of those that seem like better choices may not necessarily be the most qualified or effective when we look at what it takes to make a political leader.

 

Service to our nation tends to indicate a willingness to sacrifice for the greater good and a predisposition to patriotic duty—both of which are virtues unto themselves and preferred requirements for those we send to Washington. But the examples of Mills, Platner, Miller, and others demonstrate that not all veterans have the other required character traits, nor is it true that the virtues we should desire in politicians are found only among veterans. And even amongst the most upright veterans, the skills required to lead a SEAL platoon, for example, do not directly map onto success on the Hill—understanding how amendments get out of committee, for example, would also help.

 

A veteran’s service is an inherent part of their story and their character—George H.W. Bush’s heroism in World War II was part of his 1988 campaign, but less so than his experience as vice president. Those veterans wishing to pursue higher office should make a case for what else makes them qualified, just as any politician must. Over the weekend, actress Mia Farrow was rightfully mocked for highlighting Michigan Democratic Senate nominee Abdul El-Sayed’s medical and academic credentials as a case alone for why he should be elected. Accomplishment, excellence, and experience in any single field prior to entering politics can be an argument for one’s preferred candidate. But it should never be the sole argument. This is true of any field, but for some reason we tend to forget it when it comes to military and wartime experience.