Tuesday’s debate – perhaps the only one between Harris and Trump – has already been the subject of endless scrutiny. Takes on the pro-Harris side seem to range from those that sought more policy specifics, or more grand vision, to gloating about the effectiveness of the traps the vice president laid for her opponent. Whatever we want to call Trump, he is an even less typical opponent than he was for Hillary Clinton in 2016 – with January 6, the pandemic, and numerous authoritarian threats now defining his legacy (to say nothing of the indictments, convictions, impeachments). Harris responded to her atypical opponent with an atypical approach: laying traps about Trump rallies in response to questions; prefacing her own statements by warning the audience about how Trump was going to lie, and telling the story of the anti-Trump resistance with her facial expressions during the 90-minute debate.
In response to questions about what candidates “need” to do, I always remind reporters (or whoever) that the question has to be considered in the context of what a given speech and institutional context can do. A debate can’t do a lot of things – for example, there was a lot of talk about how much Harris needs to introduce herself to the electorate. A debate is a tough format for that. It’s much better at drawing contrast with one’s opponent, and getting a few barbs in. Who doesn’t remember “there you go again?” or “where’s the beef?” (Me, it’s me; I don’t have living memory of either of those. But I do remember some exchanges in the Bush era, and Obama telling Hillary Clinton she was likable enough.)
The other important context is that the race is close, with the legacy of 2016 looming over any narrow popular vote lead. The vice president has to maintain the complex 2020 coalition, which includes both an increasingly progressive Democratic Party and a group of anti-Trump conservatives that help make the anti-MAGA majority. Harris used these opportunities in the debate to appeal to these groups in different ways.
The first is what someone on the New Yorker podcast aptly called “fan service,” channeling her confrontational persona from Trump-era Senate hearings, drawing contrast and highlighting the strength of her party team. After Trump was elected, there was a lot of talk about the psychological and identity factors that drove his support – he made his supporters feel good about their social identities, and he made them feel like winners. I suspect something similar has been going on with Democrats and Harris, and she used the debate context to draw those comparisons and make her supporters feel like part of a winning team. An important element of this tactic is that it’s not for swing or undecided voters. It’s not even really for the news media. It’s for the hardcore partisans and fans who are watching, and it gives them the energy boost that was, well, the opposite of the Biden debate back in June. Supporters who feel like part of a fun, successful, high-status team seem much more likely to volunteer, canvass, and publicly signal their support.
Facing Trump on the debate stage also allowed Harris to highlight her opponent’s biggest weaknesses on democracy and temperament. This is for anti-Trump conservatives – people such as the Cheneys, former George W. Bush Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, and the writers at the Bulwark. Reminding traditional and disaffected Republicans of their fundamental differences with Trump and the threat he poses to democracy and national security is what speaks to this group. Again, this is not really for swing voters, who may not be especially attuned to these issues. But they might be swayed by either group – the signals from anti-Trump Republicans, or from enthusiastic, partisan Democrats.
What I’ve laid out here is a particularly social theory and group-based theory of elections that doesn’t really follow a more spatial logic of either appealing to the center or focusing on a turnout model. What the 2024 electorate ends up looking like remains to be seen (as if anyone reading this blog needed reminding), but one possibility is that the debates and issues that anchor American politics are, in fact, shifting in an appreciable way this time around. One thing I have been turning over in my head is that the presidential debate was held on September 10, and there was basically no discussion of the attacks of September 11, 2001, or indication of the ideas that made that event an anchoring one in American politics for so long. Those frameworks helped extend the ability of conservatives and Republicans to define the terms of the debate and thus what constituted the “center.” And maybe that is changing.
The debate has passed, and political pundits may talk about it for a few more days – or not. Maybe more, maybe less. But the theater criticism is ultimately less instructive than thinking about debates – or any campaign events – through a more structural and political lens: how the presidential candidates are thinking about their audiences and coalitions, and what assumptions they make about what those voters value.
Superb...and the part about speaking to the party might explain why I made an Election Day plan in the wake of the debate.