By Charles C. W. Cooke
Thursday, October 15, 2020
I don’t know. Still, at this late hour, I just don’t
know.
Yes, yes — I know what I think of Donald Trump. I think
that he’s a shallow, ignorant, capricious, incorrigible, self-destructive fool.
For a while, I was convinced that he would change. If he became the nominee,
he’d change. In the final stretch of the election, he’d change. Once he had
won, he’d change. After the inauguration, he’d change. Having settled into the
role, he’d change. But he didn’t, because he can’t. This is who he is, and who
he has always been. Most people walk around the White House and feel the weight
of history pressing down upon their shoulders. Lincoln’s eyes follow them
around the room and Washington’s name slows their tongue. The building itself
intimidates. But not Trump. For all the effect his surroundings have had on
him, he may as well work from the parking lot outside of a Denny’s.
This is not a trifling objection to his “manners” —
although manners do, indeed, matter in a free republic. Rather, it is an
understanding that Donald Trump has had a negative effect on our American
institutions and that he will continue to do so. He will not say whether he
intends to accept the results of our elections. He talks about judges as if
they work for him and lambastes them when they show that they do not. His
outward commitment to the Constitution is nil. He has done little to stall the
rise of executive imperialism that was one of the most dangerous features of
the Obama years. He has coarsened our culture and our politics.
Day in and day out, his behavior sucks up all of the
oxygen in our political culture and ensures that our only focus is on the
presidency. He has no dynamic range; all that he says he says at full volume,
and he leaves no space for civil society. Every question is binary, and all in
the system are either heroes or losers, whose role in his drama is contingent
upon how supportive they are of his goals. He is, as he has been from the
beginning, a character in a bad reality show.
He has not learned what he does not know. As a political
outsider he brought a different set of skills to the presidency, which, if
combined with a willingness to adapt himself, could have been a virtue. But
there has been no such adaptation. One part of the “art of the deal” is knowing
your environment, and the environment in which a real-estate deal takes place
is different from the environment in which one must negotiate with Congress or
with the dictator of North Korea. Trump does not grasp this, so he ends up
undermining his own position — or, worse, throwing away America’s moral capital
on worldwide TV. He is exhausting, embarrassing, infuriating, and more.
So yes, I know what I think of Donald Trump. It’s just
that I also know what I think of Joe Biden, and I know what I think of the
contemporary Democratic Party, and it is by no means the case that the
Democrats as presently constituted represent a better option.
I have often heard it asked, “How can anyone who
follows politics be undecided at this stage?” But this, I think, is an entirely
mistaken question. Indeed, I would expect more people who follow
politics to be undecided at this stage than is typically the case. When one
admires a politician’s character and judgment and his policy
prescriptions, it is easy to cast one’s vote for him. By contrast, when one
admires a politician’s policy prescriptions but believes that his character and
judgment represent a threat, the choice becomes considerably more difficult.
From what I understand, millions of people now find themselves in the latter
camp. Why? Because it’s genuinely hard to work out what to do.
For a few years now, it has been clear that there are two
types of self-described conservatives who are critical of President Trump. The
first type is the conservative who has decided that if this president is in
favor of something, it must, by definition, be wrong, and who has in
consequence abandoned everything that he has ever believed. For these people,
this election is an easy call, because there is nothing much at stake. Trump is
bad; so is everything he touches; time for a new guy in the White House; case
closed. The second type has a tougher row to hoe, because he has the same
political beliefs as he did in 2016 or 2012 or before, he likes a great deal of
what President Trump has done if not said, but he worries that, if given a
second term, this president is likely to do a good deal of damage to the
country and to the conservative movement. I am of the latter type, and it is
not a great deal of fun.
I am not, I suppose, a truly “undecided” voter, in that I
cannot vote for Joe Biden and I will not vote for Joe Biden. I am pro-life, Joe
Biden is not, and, for me, that’s the end of that. So the question becomes,
“Can I vote for Trump?” Or, put more starkly, the question becomes, “Given what
remains important to me, which risk do I consider greater?”
This is a nearly impossible query to examine. As of now,
it seems highly unlikely that a second Trump term would achieve anything much
at all beyond blocking the excesses of the Left and ensuring that Kamala Harris
gets nowhere near executive power. Even at the best of times, second terms tend
to prove dicey, and, in the absolute best-case scenario, a newly reelected
President Trump would have a majority of one or two in the Senate. Even if
Trump were to win, we would see no substantial legislation or reform; we would
see a further hollowing out of talent in the executive branch; and we would see
the striking of no treaties or international deals of which the Democratic
Party did not already approve. Naturally, if Trump were to win while the
Republicans lost the Senate, we would see a dramatic slowing down of the
appointment of good judges, too. Worst of all, come the midterms we would
likely see meaningful Democratic gains in the House and Senate, as well as in
the states — and, potentially, a landslide Democratic victory in 2024.
If the Democrats were sensible, I would likely sit this
one out. But the Democrats are not sensible. The Democrats are threatening to
blow up the American constitutional order in ways that would make President
Trump’s execrable excesses seem quaint. And, rather than promising to act as a
check, Joe Biden is having it both ways. Thus far, he has refused to answer
whether he would back the abolition of the filibuster, which would radically
alter the way that the Senate has worked for more than a century and thereby
allow a slim majority in D.C. to make sweeping changes to American life; he has
refused to answer whether he would sign a bill to pack the Supreme Court with
judges who favor his party, thereby reviving a plan that, in 1937, was
“emphatically rejected” by a Senate Judiciary Committee that hoped “that its
parallel will never again be presented to the free representatives of the free
people of America”; and he has refused to answer whether he would acquiesce to
the addition of two new states, the admission of which would be designed solely
as a means by which to give the Democratic Party four additional seats in the
upper chamber. How, I wonder, should I balance these permanent revolutions in
American government against another four years of President Caprice?
And how am I supposed to balance the potential
consequences of a Biden presidency for the unborn? For those who hope to
benefit from school choice? For those accused of sexual assault on college
campuses? How should I weigh President Trump’s indifference to the Constitution
as written against the explicit plans of a party that is committed to the
corrupt, self-serving, and Machiavellian idea that is the “living
Constitution”? President Trump has at times said horrendous things about the
First Amendment, intimating a preference for censorship and a loosening of the
libel laws — although, thankfully, he has never tried to do anything about it.
How might I assess that record against the Democrats’ perpetual promise to
overturn Citizens United and their flirtation with “hate speech” rules?
President Trump’s claim to piety is absurd and condescending, and yet he has
served as a bulwark for conscience rights. Which is more important: His
transparent dishonesty, or that the free-exercise clause remain intact? I do
not believe for a moment that President Trump believes that the United States
is the promised land, as I do. But he has chosen to use his platform to
champion the nation’s history and push back against “critical race theory,” a
cancerous ideology that, if unchecked, will destroy the country from within.
What should I think about that?
What about economics? I am a free-market, free-trade,
free-people sort of guy — one of those unsparing libertarian types that we are
told run the world. President Trump is not. Over the past four years, Trump has
happily presided over a gargantuan spending spree, he has flatly repudiated the
idea that entitlement reforms are necessary, and he has lied brazenly about the
effects that his tax package has had upon the budget deficits and upon the
national debt. In addition, his anti-free-trade instincts have damaged a key
source of global wealth and expanded the influence of the executive branch at
the expense of Congress. But, given the choice, am I supposed to prefer Joe
Biden and the Democrats, who are equally opposed to entitlement reform, who
want to spend even more as a matter of permanent course, and who, in addition,
hope to forestall a reckoning in heavily Democratic states by bailing out their
budget shortfalls with dollars extracted from everybody else?
And am I supposed to ignore completely the other side of
the Trump ledger? I do not believe that Trump “created” the good economy that
we enjoyed before the coronavirus pandemic, and I do not believe, either, that
his reaction to that pandemic played any meaningful part in determining how it
unfurled. In my estimation, these are superstitions, born of an ugly,
monarchical attitude toward the presidency. But I do know that he has made some
difference elsewhere. It is because President Trump won in 2016 that we have
Justices Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court, that Judge Barrett has
been nominated to join them, and that the judiciary at all levels has more
law-abiding judges among its ranks than it did at the end of Obama’s term. It
is because President Trump won in 2016 that the Second Amendment was saved from
being dismantled by a candidate who openly argued that it has no meaning or
force whatsoever. It is because President Trump won in 2016 that the United
States withdrew from the Iran deal and from the Paris climate accord, took
steps to reverse the illegal DACA program, and reversed the Obama
administration’s astonishingly illiberal Title IX rules. It is because
President Trump won that the United States government expanded the Mexico City
policy, blocked Title X funds from being distributed to Planned Parenthood and
other abortion providers, and stopped persecuting the Little Sisters of the
Poor. None of this would have happened if the last presidential election had
gone the other way, and all of it is welcome. Is Joe Biden offering anything to
the disaffected beyond a chance to have a different president in the White
House?
So, yeah: I don’t know.
I wish I did. I envy those on the right who have decided
that President Trump is Hitler and that none of the things they previously
cared about matter anymore. I envy those on the left who admire both Joe
Biden’s agenda and Joe Biden himself, and who are not terrified by the Democratic
Party’s turn. For them, this decision is easy — akin to watching your football
team play. For me, it is filled with enough moving parts and what-ifs and
on-the-one-hands to drive a person to distraction. I have often caught myself
wondering what it must be like to watch a presidential election and be entirely
happy about the results. As of today, in the first presidential election in
which I am eligible to vote since becoming a citizen, I still will not know. I
guess I’ll get another shot in 2024.
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