By Nick Catoggio
Thursday, September 26, 2024
Americans are less divided
politically than the media likes
to pretend.
Yes, it’s a big, diverse electorate, but there are
certain opinions we all share. Like this one: I can’t believe the party I
hate isn’t getting clobbered in the polls.
From the Liz Cheney left to the Robert F. Kennedy Jr.
right, ask any voter at random whether they’re surprised at how
close this race is, and my guess is they’ll talk your ear off in
exasperation.
Kamala Harris should be running away with it! You wanted
Democrats to ditch the old guy who can’t tie his shoes anymore, right? Well,
they did. What more do you want?
Donald Trump should be running away with it! You hate
what the old guy who can’t tie his shoes anymore has done to the country,
right? Well, now you can send him and his pal Kamala packing. What more do you
want?
Each side has a strong case that its party should be
teeing up a landslide based on the so-called fundamentals. But the respective
fundamentals to which they’re clinging are in tension.
For Republicans, the election is about “political
gravity.” The incumbent president is unpopular; inflation was a beast for much
of his term; immigration has proceeded largely unchecked on his watch. Add all
of that up and the race shouldn’t be close.
For Democrats, the election is about candidate quality.
The nominee of the other party is a coup-plotting authoritarian psycho. He was
impeached twice in his first term in office and sounds more unhinged now than
he did then. Add all of that up and the race shouldn’t be close.
But the race is close, remarkably so by the standards of
the past few decades. It’s as if the respective fundamentals on each side have
reached a state of equilibrium: Harris can’t break away due to discontent with
Biden’s administration, and Trump can’t break away because of the whole
“authoritarian psycho” thing.
The irresistible force of political gravity has met the
immovable object of candidate quality. Which prevails?
When fundamentals collide.
To properly appreciate how heavily political gravity is
weighing on Harris, let your eyes pop at the
latest data from Gallup. Across 10 historic predictors of electoral
success, Republicans lead on no less than eight. The other two are effectively
tied.
Most notably, in every presidential election since 1952
save one, the party that led on the issue that voters deemed most important
went on to win the presidency. (The exception, in 1980, saw a tie on that
question.) This year, the economy and immigration are the problems commonly
cited as “most important.” By a margin of 5 points, Americans believe
Republicans will handle them better than Democrats will.
If that’s not enough to alarm Harris supporters, it also
turns out that Republicans never once led on party identification in Gallup’s
polling of presidential races dating back to 1992—until now, when they’ve
bounced out to a 48-45 lead.
These are hurricane-force political winds that Democrats
are facing. Is it any wonder that their candidate has tried to remake herself
as a staunch centrist with an affinity for
certain conservative cultural trappings? If she doesn’t do what little she
can to distinguish herself as a “change candidate” relative to Biden, the
backlash to his presidency will blow her away.
Trump is making it harder for her, too. He’s fantasized
throughout the campaign that America has become an apocalyptic dystopia under
Democratic rule, and he has a knack for convincing admirers that his fantasies
are reality. He’s not asking voters whether they’re better off now than they
were four years ago so much as warning them that Armageddon
awaits
if he doesn’t win:
Four years ago, based on nothing whatsoever, he persuaded
roughly half the country that a mass conspiracy to rig a national election was
afoot. With those hurricane-force winds now at his back, he should have little
trouble persuading a narrow-ish band of swing voters that the danger of
returning Democrats to power is far too great to be risked.
So … why hasn’t he persuaded them?
Not only does Trump trail Harris in national
polling, his party is struggling in most of this year’s competitive Senate
races. Democratic candidates lead by 4 points or better in Michigan,
Pennsylvania,
Wisconsin,
and Arizona.
In Ohio,
which has been Trump country since 2016, progressive Sherrod Brown is up 3.6
points over Republican Bernie Moreno. Even in Texas, Democrat Colin Allred
stands a puncher’s chance of knocking
out Ted Cruz.
That simply shouldn’t happen in a national environment in
which “political gravity” is crushing the left. The same could be said for
2022, when inflation and residual bitterness over COVID school closures were
also supposed to crush the left. Democrats ended up holding onto the Senate and
nearly held onto the House. Somehow, they’ve gotten quite good recently at
defying “gravity.”
We all know why. Republican voters keep
nominating terrible candidates, creating a de facto bunker for Democrats to
shelter in as those hurricane winds blow. Arizona, for instance, should have
been a gimme Senate victory for Republicans this year after Kyrsten Sinema
retired and was replaced on the ballot by far-left Ruben Gallego. Had former
Gov. Doug Ducey ended up as the GOP’s nominee in the race, it probably would
have been.
But Ducey didn’t run, sparing himself the headache of
facing down a Trump-backed Kari Lake challenge in the primary. Lake received
the party’s nomination instead. And now she’s getting smoked
by Gallego.
Candidate quality matters.
Republicans have ended up in a sort of Catch-22 in swing
states in which you can’t win a primary without Trump’s endorsement and,
increasingly, can’t win a general election with it. His brand of politics is so
toxic to so many centrists that it functions as a sort of anti-gravity device:
After four years of Biden, Americans strongly prefer to be governed by
Republicans—but not these kinds of Republicans.
So maybe Noah
Rothman and Oliver
Wiseman are right. Maybe if the GOP had a nominee who wasn’t prone to
hawking autographed
watches between campaign stops and yammering on television about Haitian
migrants barbecuing cats, the anti-gravity effect of poor candidate quality
would disappear and Republicans would sweep to victory.
All of this helps explain why Harris and Trump have converged
on policy, I think. Each believes that the “fundamental” in the election
that favors them will carry them to victory in the end—provided that they don’t
let their opponent gain an obvious edge on policy. For Harris, that means
talking up border security; for Trump, it means moderation on abortion. And for
both, it means lots of maddeningly vague answers on issues where there’s
no clear benefit to them from getting specific.
Political gravity will win the election for Trump. Or
candidate quality will win the election for Harris. All each needs to do is
stand back and let the magic of their favorite “fundamental” happen.
One of them will be wrong. In fact, both are probably
wrong.
The problem with fundamentals.
“Political gravity vs. candidate quality” is an elegant
framework for understanding the election but it’s too simplistic.
In fact, it’s too simplistic even by the standards of
too-simplistic analyses. Say what you will about Allan Lichtman, at least his “keys
to the White House” argle-bargle involves 13 factors, not two.
The problem with the framework begins here: Are we sure
that a different Republican presidential nominee with supposedly higher
“candidate quality” would be outperforming Trump?
Reaganites find comfort in believing that Nikki Haley or
Ron DeSantis would be mopping the floor with Harris if only GOP primary voters
had had the good sense to nominate them. But where’s the evidence? Trump is
polling much better
than his party’s Senate candidates are in the swing states I mentioned earlier;
his favorable
rating is only 8 points underwater, better than Joe Biden’s; and he’s shown
an incredible ability over his career to galvanize low-propensity voters who
were typically unreachable by more traditional Republicans.
It’s conceivable that, had Trump lost the GOP primary, Harris
might be running away with the race as millions of diehard MAGAs opted to
boycott the general election in protest. If we define “quality” in terms of a
candidate’s grasp of policy and fidelity to civic traditions, then, sure, Trump
is freakishly terrible. But if we define it by a candidate’s ability to compete
at the polls, he might actually be one of the higher-quality candidates
Republicans are capable of fielding.
The “political gravity vs. candidate quality” analysis
overlooks another artifact of Trumpism. As he’s gone about remaking the GOP as
a populist protectionist party, he’s set in motion a dynamic political
realignment among Americans. So dynamic, in fact, that even the pros
aren’t sure which elements of it are “real” and which are mirages in the
polling.
Will Trump shock Democrats by stealing some of their nonwhite and/or union
base out from underneath them on Election Day? Will Harris shock
Republicans by holding onto Biden’s edge with older voters and blowing the roof
off among college graduates? It may be that the election is this close not
because voters are agonizing over conflicting fundamentals but because millions
are re-examining their policy beliefs as the two parties redefine themselves in
real time. In a race as uncertain as that, I wouldn’t expect one candidate or
the other to gain a decisive advantage. (Except, perhaps, until the very end.)
If “candidate quality” can’t neatly explain Trump’s
polling, though, then “political gravity” likewise can’t neatly explain
Harris’.
For one thing, in this case “gravity” isn’t that strong.
The S&P 500 reached an all-time
high last week; inflation has cooled enough to embolden the Federal Reserve
to slash
interest rates; the economy has consistently added jobs during Biden’s
presidency, albeit at a
slower pace this year; even border crossings have
plunged lately. Trump wants Americans to believe that another defeat will
trigger a thousand years of darkness and the return of Cthulhu, but the
evidence just ain’t there.
Insofar as gravity is holding down the Democrats’
presidential nominee this year, it was much stronger when
Biden was leading the ticket. The most remarkable aspect of Harris’ candidacy
has been her turnaround in favorability,
gaining 15 net points in two months. It’s strange to think of a politician
who’s barely above water in that metric as “popular” but by modern standards
she’s practically America’s sweetheart. Voters in our era routinely dislike
national politicians on balance, but not her.
That surely has less to do with her dazzling the
electorate with her policy vision than with her declining to offer a vision in
the first place, allowing undecideds to treat her as a generic Democrat and a
“blank screen” for their own preferences. But either way, she’s successfully
defying “gravity”: According to the latest NBC
News national poll, it’s Harris rather than Trump who leads when voters are
asked which candidate better represents “change.”
Meanwhile, Trump has a “gravity” problem of his own.
Of all the Republicans whom primary voters might have
nominated this year, the worst by far to capitalize on the Biden-Harris track
record is a man with his own unpopular presidential track record. As relatively
unknown quantities, Haley or DeSantis would have been easy bets to top either
Democrat on the question of which party is more likely to bring “change.” With
Trump leading the ballot, that’s down the toilet. “Change” in this case means
restoring a man to the presidency whom Americans fired from the job just four
years ago.
Impeachable offenses, incompetence in the face of
national crises like COVID, and hourly reminders on social media that the
leader of the free world has at least one and probably more serious personality
disorders: It’s all back on the menu if Trump wins.
An unpopular ex-president can’t escape the gravity of his
own term in office. If the right wanted to fully capitalize on voter
dissatisfaction with Biden, it shouldn’t have nominated the one person in the
GOP with whom voters also have a history of being dissatisfied.
Just like, if the left wanted to fully capitalize on
candidate quality, it probably shouldn’t have nominated someone who struggles
to answer questions cogently during interviews with even the friendliest of
media. Harris is a better politician than I
gave her credit for being when she inherited the nomination from Biden, but
it’s not just MAGA media that’s growing
frustrated with her habit of hiding the ball on policy.
My fear as we enter October is that the election won’t
come down to a clash of fundamentals between political gravity and candidate
quality but rather to a choice between the devil Americans know and the one
they don’t. Trump led consistently in polling before Biden dropped out because
the president couldn’t convince voters that he was up to the job; Harris’
“blank screen” strategy has made her more likable but now risks persuading them
that she has the same basic problem as her boss. She’s not up to the job
either, not because she’s too old but because she’s an empty suit.
Still, most of us in the commentariat will probably lazily revert to the fundamentals to explain the result in November, whatever that result might be. If Trump wins, political gravity was too powerful for Harris to escape; if Harris wins, Trump was too obnoxious a character for America to reelect. The spin will be irresistible, as there’ll be some truth to it. And so pundits of the left and right will come together around it, just another example of how Americans are less divided politically than the media likes to pretend.
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