Saturday, November 7, 2020

The Election That Broke the Republican Party

The Election That Broke the Republican Party
By lashing themselves to the president’s desperate conspiracies of fraud, GOP officials have undermined their own legitimacy.


Tim Alberta is chief political correspondent at Politico Magazine.

Never has the unprecedented been so utterly predictable.

At the conclusion of a campaign that exceeded their expectations in almost every sense—picking up House seats, thwarting an outright Democratic takeover of the Senate, running competitively in every presidential battleground state—Republicans could have walked away from 2020 with some dignity intact. They could have conceded defeat to Joe Biden, celebrated their hard-fought successes elsewhere and braced for the battles ahead.

But that was never going to happen. This is Donald Trump’s party—at least, for another 76 days—and no Republican who hopes to remain relevant after he’s gone was going to deny him the bloody farewell he’s been building toward.

Did we really think the president worked so diligently these past eight months to create an environment conducive to allegations of mass voter fraud, only to stop short of alleging mass voter fraud? Of course not. Even if the president had been swept in every swing state, and by big margins, he was always going to cry foul. That he lost such close contests—and lost them in a style so unfamiliar to so many voters—only made his reaction all the more inevitable.

“If you count the legal votes, I easily win. If you count the illegal votes, they can try to steal the election from us,” Trump said from the White House on Thursday night, using the world’s most powerful podium to accuse the world’s most powerful nation of becoming a banana republic. He impugned crooked Democratic political machines that were allegedly denying access to Republican canvassing observers. He decried the “election interference” wrought by inaccurate poll numbers (a phrase the president has never used with regard to Russia). But his biggest complaint was with the voting method that was at that very moment turning red states to blue.

President Donald Trump delivers a statement on the election in the briefing room of the White House, Thursday, Nov. 5, 2020, in Washington. (AP Photo/Evan Vucci)
Trump delivers a statement on the election in the White House briefing room, Thursday, Nov. 5, 2020. | AP Photo/Evan Vucci
“I’ve been talking about mail-in voting for a long time. It’s really destroyed our system. It’s a corrupt system and it makes people corrupt,” he said. “They want to find out how many votes they need, and then they seem to be able to find them.”

To recap: The president scared his own voters away from voting by mail, resulting in lopsided Democratic margins when those ballots were counted; and Republican lawmakers in several key states refused to allow those ballots to be counted early, resulting in delays that created an early mirage of the president winning because the votes tallied first were those most favorable to him. Trump has good reason to resent those mail votes: They made the ballot box more accessible; they created the illusion that victory was possible; then they shattered that illusion in agonizing fashion, every incremental dump of returns amounting to a slow twist of the knife.

Biden is now leading in four states that have yet to be called by a consensus of news organizations. Victory in Pennsylvania or the right combination of the other three—Nevada, Georgia or Arizona—would carry him over the threshold of 270 electoral votes and make him president-elect of the United States, a moment that draws closer every minute. Trump is digging in, alleging a conspiracy of unfathomable proportion, conceived and executed right beneath our noses, to deny him a second term in the White House. His evidence for this? Invisible. But no matter. The man who swore Barack Obama was born in Kenya, the man who insisted that millions of illegal votes were cast in 2016, has never been deterred by a lack of proof.

And yet, this moment is not entirely about him. The question was never going to be how Trump responded to a defeat. The question was how Republicans would respond to Trump’s response. After four years of turning a blind eye to the president’s subversive rhetoric and manic behavior and relentless dishonesty, the ultimate test for the Republican Party was whether it would accommodate the president’s rebellion against this country’s democratic norms or denounce it.

The Republican Party has failed that test.

“President Trump won this election,” Kevin McCarthy, the House Republican leader, declared Thursday night during an appearance on Fox News, as some 140 million ballots tabulated nationwide showed Trump badly losing the popular vote, trailing in most battleground states and nowhere near clinching a majority in the Electoral College. “Everyone who is listening: Do not be quiet. Do not be silent about this. We cannot allow this to happen before our very eyes.”

What “this” was McCarthy referring to? Not simply the steady erosion of Trump’s lead in a handful of pivotal states, as the tabulation of millions of mail votes plodded along. No, McCarthy was casting doubt on what was causing those margins to close. He was insinuating that something sinister was afoot in states like Georgia and Pennsylvania. He was nodding to the notion that partisan observers—“poll watchers,” as they’re often called—weren’t being allowed to monitor the process. And he wasn’t alone.

Images from voting locations around the US
“Philadelphia elections are crooked as a snake,” Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina told Sean Hannity on another Fox News segment Thursday evening. “There’s the process of observing an election that’s being violated.”

Hannity asked if Pennsylvania lawmakers should invalidate the results because GOP poll-watchers weren’t being allowed to monitor the count in Philadelphia. “I think everything should be on the table,” Graham replied.

The only problem? Observers were allowed to monitor the count in Philadelphia.

This is not in dispute. The Trump campaign’s own attorneys, in a court appearance Thursday, acknowledged that more than a dozen of their designated poll watchers were physically present throughout the day at the main ballot processing site. The bipartisan elections commission in Philadelphia issued a statement Thursday confirming as much: “The Trump campaign has had certified canvas observers in the Convention Center to view the counting operation all day long today as it has since the pre-canvas began on Tuesday at 7:00 a.m.” The lone point of contention was how far the poll watchers were required to stand from the ballot counters, a bit of logistical nuance that somehow spawned a sweeping claim that observers had been kicked out altogether.

None of this stopped Senator Ted Cruz of Texas—the man who once called Trump “a pathological liar”—from echoing the president’s deception, following up Graham’s performance with one that made the South Carolina senator look meek by comparison.

“I am angry, and I think the American people are angry,” Cruz told Hannity, his voice wrung with outrage. “By throwing the observers out, by clouding the vote-counting in a shroud of darkness, they are setting the stage to potentially steal an election not just from the president, but from the over 60 million people across this country who voted for him.”

One might assume that an Ivy League-educated lawyer like Cruz—someone who argued cases before the Supreme Court, someone who, as he reminded Hannity on Thursday night, worked on the Bush v. Gore case in 2000—would make sure his assertions were bulletproof before sharing them with millions of viewers. But that assumption would be wrong.

Cruz warned Hannity in foreboding tones of the “darkness” corrupting this election. In addition to spreading falsehoods on Fox News, his attempt to shed light on it involved tweeting a story from The Federalist, a far-right website, headlined, “Yes, Democrats Are Trying To Steal The Election In Michigan, Wisconsin, And Pennsylvania.” The compelling evidence? A screenshot of incoming results from the election-tracking website Decision Desk HQ, taken by a GOP operative, that purported to show a sudden dump of 128,000 votes for Biden in Michigan. It turned out there was an input error by a single county; the numbers were quickly corrected and the GOP operative deleted his screenshot. But The Federalist didn’t delete its story. Nor did Cruz delete his tweet.

A handful of prominent Republicans have distinguished themselves over the past 72 hours by daring to question the president’s claims and the rhetoric of the right. Utah Senator Mitt Romney, the party’s previous nominee for president, said Trump’s bombast “damages the cause of freedom here and around the world.” Will Hurd, the retiring congressman from Texas, called Trump’s unfounded allegations “dangerous.” Pennsylvania Senator Pat Toomey said Trump’s speech was “very disturbing.” A pair of military veterans in Congress, Adam Kinzinger and Denver Riggleman, took Trump to task for disrespecting the elections process. Even Sean Spicer, the former White House press secretary who launched the Trump administration with a lie about inauguration crowd sizes, scoffed at the unfounded nature of Trump’s claim.

But these voices were the minority, drowned out by the doomsayers who seem determined to go down with the ship. Eric Trump, the president’s middle son, warned Republicans not to be “sheep” and urged them to “Fight against this fraud.” Newt Gingrich, the former House speaker and a confidant to the president, called for the arrest of poll workers. Mark Levin, a right-wing radio host with a penchant for hysteria, urged Republican-controlled state legislatures to ignore the results of their state elections and send electors who will vote for Trump in the Electoral College. His missive was retweeted by the Republican Party’s top spokesperson.

For the GOP and its right-wing affiliates, a discernible pattern emerged over the past 72 hours. Level sweeping allegations without evidence. Use the phrases “late ballots” and “illegal votes” often and interchangeably. Point to oddities and irregularities, no matter how minuscule, as proof of a broader conspiracy. Then, despite those individual claims being debunked, stand by them. If this playbook sounds familiar, it’s because the party has taken on the identity of its leader.

Consider the case of Liz Harrington, the top spokesperson for the Republican National Committee. On Thursday, right around the time she was retweeting Levin, Harrington began broadcasting a popular conspiracy theory that Milwaukee’s high rate of voter turnout was evidence of voter fraud. Tweeting quotes from an article in another far-right publication—headlined “Game-On for the Coup?”—Harrington claimed the “improbably high turnout” was “a statistical impossibility.” She wondered how “Sleepy Joe” drove 85 percent turnout in Milwaukee when Barack Obama, the nation’s first Black president, had only generated 71 percent turnout there.

Except she was wrong. According to public records, turnout in the city of Milwaukee was 87 percent in 2012. Harrington had erred by comparing Biden’s turnout of registered voters this year with Obama’s turnout of eligible voters (a larger pool that yields a smaller percentage) eight years ago. Insidious as the underlying motives were, Harrington could be forgiven for this mistake. But then she doubled down. Responding to my correction of her facts, Harrington stated that turnout “jumped by more than 20 points” in Milwaukee County from 2016 to 2020. Again, the implication clear: Such a huge spike in activity, in a heavily Black and predominantly Democratic area, was proof of corruption.

And again, her facts were wrong. Turnout in Milwaukee County was 80 percent in 2016. Turnout in Milwaukee County this year was 84 percent. That’s a very modest increase, especially relative to the rest of Wisconsin, where some rural red counties saw turnout boom as much as 15 percent. Harrington wasn’t concerned with those increases—for obvious reasons.

Illustrated portraits of Joe Biden and Donald Trump
This is the inherent flaw with the GOP’s charge of mass voter fraud. Participation rates spiked more in Republican areas than in Democratic ones; Trump won more votes in cities like Milwaukee and Detroit than he did four years ago. There is no pattern in the data to suggest anything except a high-intensity, high-turnout election all the way around, and in many cases, particularly down-ballot, Republicans were the beneficiary. As spectacularly as she failed to produce evidence of malfeasance, at least Harrington tried to use actual numbers. That’s more than could be said for most Republicans who rushed to Trump’s defense on Thursday.

“Democrats are trying to steal the election,” said Congressman Doug Collins of Georgia. “We won’t let it happen.” (He included a hashtag—#stopthesteal—that plugged into a universe of alleged crime and subterfuge, much of it focused on the same handful of purported incidents of fraud.)

“I stand with President @realDonaldTrump,” said Congressman Chuck Fleischmann of Tennessee. “We need transparency in our election system. What we’re seeing is fraud, and it must be stopped.”

“The election results are out of control,” agreed Senator-elect Tommy Tuberville of Alabama. “It’s like the whistle has blown, the game is over, and the players have gone home, but the referees are suddenly adding touchdowns to the other team’s side of the scoreboard.”

“Trump’s points are persuasive: concerted use of fraudulent polls; stunning and implausible ballot dumps overnight; observers barred,” said Congressman Dan Bishop of North Carolina. “Fight!”

“Radical Dems tried to do away with law and order and are now trying to do away with law and order at the ballot box,” agreed Congressman Roger Williams of Texas. He later added, “This is the most corrupt election in our lifetime. Where is the DOJ and AG?”

This is just a sampling of the statements made by Republicans in the wake of Trump’s dramatic speech from the White House on Thursday night. Much of the agitation focused on two things: Questioning the absence of a law enforcement investigation, as Rogers did, and encouraging Republican voters to contribute to Trump’s legal defense fund. The two sentiments go hand-in-hand: Because the Department of Justice has not (yet) inserted itself into any of the fracases that have sprung up in various states, the burden falls on Trump’s campaign to substantiate their allegations of wrongdoing.

That’s a heavy lift—one made heavier by the fact that, despite this being the most scrutinized election in memory, there is thus far zero evidence of any scalable fraud. This should be considered a triumph for Trump’s campaign: Over the past few months, I’ve had numerous local GOP officials boast about their poll-watching program, describing its sophistication, exuding confidence that they would have eyes and ears in every room as votes were being counted. “The Trump campaign is on it like white on rice. They’re watching everything,” Matt Albert, chairman of the Outagamie County GOP in Wisconsin, told me last month. If anyone tried to cheat, Albert emphasized, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

There were no notable accusations of wrongdoing on Election Day, no allegations being made by Republicans in states like Michigan and Georgia and Pennsylvania. Then, on Wednesday, a flicker of scandal, fueled by social media, began to illuminate the right. By Thursday the spark had become an inferno, with millions of Americans exposed to photos and videos supposedly verifying widespread fraudulent activity. What changed between Tuesday and Thursday? Not the presence of poll watchers; they were there all along. Not the sudden counting of mail ballots; millions of them were tabulated earlier in the week in states like Ohio and Florida, without any incident. The only thing that changed was the president’s position in the race, which explains the sudden feeding frenzy of rumor and speculation and conspiracy theorizing.

The truly remarkable thing is that thus far, Trump and his Republican allies have produced nothing to even remotely substantiate the notion of a rigged election. His efforts in this regard have been more a publicity stunt than a serious legal challenge; the president’s political fixers, including erstwhile campaign manager Corey Lewandowski and American Conservative Union chairman Matt Schlapp and former ambassador Ric Grenell, have scrambled around the country holding press conferences alleging rampant abuse yet failed to offer any examples of it. (Grenell presented an elderly blind woman in Nevada who claimed her ballot was stolen; Clark County officials confirmed they had already met with the woman, given her the chance to authenticate a new ballot for the election, and that she declined.)

Ric Grenell, Donald Trump adviser and former acting director of national intelligence, speaks during a news conference in front of the Clark County Election Department, Thursday, Nov. 5, 2020, in Las Vegas. (AP Photo/John Locher)
Ric Grenell, Donald Trump adviser and former acting director of national intelligence, speaks during a news conference in front of the Clark County Election Department, Thursday, Nov. 5, 2020, in Las Vegas. | AP Photo/John Locher
In lieu of any exhibits with which to prosecute their case, Republicans fell back on rumor and innuendo that withstood laughably little scrutiny. There was the video from Detroit that ostensibly showed a suitcase full of ballots being hauled by wagon outside the TCF Center, the city’s hub for election processing. (Turns out it was camera equipment for the local ABC affiliate.) There was the Facebook-fueled uproar in Maricopa County, Arizona, over ballots being rejected because they were filled out with Sharpie markers. (They were not rejected; county officials confirmed that the markers were actually the best option for filling out ballots.)

By far, the episode that attracted the most attention was inside the TCF Center in Detroit, where election officials covered the windows of the vote-processing area because the workers inside felt intimated by the swelling crowds outside. As a matter of perception, the maneuver was rash; video loops of the windows being papered over were destined to play for years to come. As a practical matter, however, this changed nothing. Scores of Republican poll watchers were in the room before, during and after the windows were covered. Cameras were rolling around the clock, in every part of the room, as they are in Philadelphia and other major vote-counting hubs. There was no lack of transparency. The Michigan Republican Party has been monitoring precincts in Detroit for years; this election was no different.

“They had 136 people in the room,” said Josh Venable, who for years ran the state GOP’s Election Day operation, which included training and supervising hundreds of poll watchers.

“There’s a process for those people; there are rules. I’ve worked extensively with the elections officials in the city of Detroit, and they take it very seriously. They do everything by the book. Are there errors that happen? Sure. But that’s not fraud. In all my years watching elections in Detroit, I never saw any sort of fraud. Stolen ballots? Bused in voters? It never happens. You know why? Because you can’t get away with it. It’s way easier to just try and win the election.”

To be clear, this echoes the overwhelming consensus within the community of election experts. Karl Rove, the “architect” of George W. Bush’s winning campaigns, jeered the notion of some elaborate scheme to steal the election, saying it “would require a conspiracy on the scale of a James Bond movie.” Ben Ginsberg, the Republican Party’s top election lawyer for the past several decades, recently wrote in the Washington Post, “Proof of systematic fraud has become the Loch Ness Monster of the Republican Party. People have spent a lot of time looking for it, but it doesn’t exist.”

Venable, who worked in the Trump administration as chief of staff to Education Secretary Betsy DeVos—and who recently wrote an op-ed explaining his support for Biden—said the president’s rhetoric has become “increasingly dangerous.” He fears that Republicans who repeat it are openly inviting violence.

“This is something out of the Pinochet regime. These Republicans who are indulging the president, they all know better. That’s what I find so disturbing: They know exactly what they’re doing, and they don’t care,” Venable said. “This effort to question the integrity of the electoral process of the United States of America—by people of great power and prominence, people who know it has zero basis in fact—it’s just astonishing to me. And it’s frightening.”

If the voting numbers hold, Trump won’t be in office much longer. But his imprint on the Republican Party is permanent. This much has been clear since the day he won the presidency, and it has grown clearer each hour since. The impulsive governing and the disregard for the rule of law, the undermining of allies and the embracing of tyrants, the schoolyard taunts and the vulgar sentiments—all of this will live on. It will be central to his legacy and to the party’s. And yet nothing will prove as enduring as his delegitimizing of the office he holds and the democratic process that elected him to it. Nothing can repair the damage done by a sustained effort to subvert the nation’s bedrock institution and diminish public confidence in it. Nothing that happens to the GOP moving forward can erase the memory of the president telling the American people their votes were stolen—and Republicans, not bothering with evidence, nodding along in agreement.

The irony of Donald Trump’s presidency is his unremitting wrath over being viewed as an illegitimate president—when it was his attempts to portray Barack Obama as an illegitimate president that endeared him to the American right and planted the seeds of his political rise. There is no shortage of symmetry now, with his campaign for reelection in peril and the twilight of his reign upon him, in Trump’s efforts to make his successor as illegitimate as his predecessor.

A healthy Republican Party would not abide this. Then again, a healthy Republican Party would not have winked and nodded at birtherism, nor would it have nominated Trump to the presidency in the first place. In November 2016, Republicans looked upon Trump’s victory and wondered if there was any going back. In November 2020, they looked upon Trump’s defeat and decided the answer was no.

Trump advisers are telling him it’s slipping away. There’s poetic justice here.

Opinion | Trump advisers are telling him it’s slipping away. There’s poetic justice here.

Opinion by 
Greg Sargent
Columnist
November 7, 2020 at 8:42 a.m. GMT+9


“But they’re having a devil of a time behind the scenes trying to convince the president that this is slipping away from him,” Acosta continued.

Acosta also reported that this is leading to “chaos” inside the White House.

As we wait for the networks to call the race, it’s worth noting that there’s a kind of eerie poetic justice in how this is winding down.

Politics is hard. It’s profoundly painful to watch election returns when the candidate you support — one whose campaign you followed for many months and poured a good deal of intellectual and emotional investment into — is slowly and inexorably getting overtaken as more and more votes come in.

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This must be extraordinarily difficult to endure when you yourself are the candidate. But Trump himself is largely responsible for his experience of the way this is winding down. And that captures something essential about his pathologies, and about his corruption and contempt for democracy.

Trump began attacking vote-by-mail as riddled with fraud in earnest last spring. This dissuaded his own voters from using it, as Republicans themselves warned would happen.

Trump telegraphed the real intent of his corrupt endgame over the summer. He would get his supporters to vote in person, and then he’d seek to invalidate millions upon millions of mailed ballots on the grounds that they shouldn’t be counted for too many days after Election Day.

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Trump would rely on GOP state legislatures in places like Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, which refused to allow the counting of mailed ballots before Election Day, helping to create the delays that Trump would then exploit.

He would enjoy a big lead as the Election Day votes were counted first, allowing him to declare victory, and then insist that the counting of millions of other ballots constituted an effort to steal the election from him.

It all unfolded exactly this way. Trump’s broadcasting of his scheme surely helped persuade millions of Democrats to get their mail ballots in early. Meanwhile, in the days leading up to the election, he kept tweeting about a “GIANT RED WAVE COMING!”

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These were the Election Day votes that would be counted first, and on Election Day, things went according to plan in Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin. Trump then did prematurely declare victory early the next morning. And he has since launched a legal effort to try to invalidate as many mail votes as possible.

But Trump never thought to imagine that all those mailed ballots actually would get counted, that the system actually would honor the votes of millions who opposed him, that election officials and volunteers across the country actually do believe in democracy and are willing to work extraordinarily hard to make it function on behalf of the American people, on behalf of all of them. He couldn’t simply make all of that disappear.

Many news organizations warned that those initially counted votes would constitute a “red mirage,” and that this would be followed by a “blue shift” as the mailed ballots were counted. But, because Trump has very deep contempt for the parts of the country that oppose him and has long regarded them as having no legitimate claim to political representation, their votes simply couldn’t end up counting.

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Meanwhile, the legal cases are falling apart because they’re baseless, and because they are targeting pools of votes that are too small to make a difference.

Trump couldn’t imagine that this would happen, either. He has long viewed large swaths of the government as little more than ready-at-hand tools to serve his own personal and political interests. And Trump assumed that the courts would just do his bidding. He simply declared that helping him by invalidating countless votes was what Amy Coney Barrett, his nominee to the Supreme Court, was supposed to do.

But it’s now getting away from him. And it’s precisely because of how Trump bought into this whole scheme all along that he is now suffering through the slow and prolonged shock of seeing his leads in Pennsylvania and Georgia bleed away over the course of days, to be replaced by Joe Biden leads. It must be a special kind of purgatory for him.

Friday, November 6, 2020

Brand New Dems?

Brand New Dems?

By Joseph O'Neill in the May 28, 2020, edition of The New York Review


In November, when the worst of the coronavirus pandemic may be behind us, Americans will decide whether a Democrat, Joe Biden, or a Republican, Donald Trump, should be trusted to lead the country into a highly uncertain future. 

Most people have already made up their minds. 

But even in a time of partisan polarization, there persists a small demographic of persuadables— the low-information, temperamentally apolitical, ideologically squishy voters who are responsible for fluctuations in presidential approval polls. 

The perceptions of these voters is the subject of an intense public relations battle between Democrats and Republicans. 

You might think that Biden has the upper hand. 

Surely it cannot be hard to persuade Americans to accept two essential propositions: that Trump and his Republican allies have gravely mishandled the coronavirus pandemic, causing untold death and hardship that could have been avoided; and that Biden, not the corrupt and clueless Trump, should be trusted to lead the economic recovery. 

Surely the chickens will come home to roost. 

The problem is that they won’t, unless they’re rounded up and forced into their coop. 

Republicans have long been better at this kind of work than Democrats. 

This is because Democrats are terrible at “messaging.” 

 “Messaging” refers to two separate but interrelated matters. 

The first is campaign messaging. 

That’s a short-term effort.Its goal istowin the election at hand. 

Campaign messages rely on TV ads (to win over persuadables in battleground markets) and social media (to excite the base and infiltrate your opponent’s information community). 

They are largely the responsibility of the candidate, and they are most effective when they define the stakes of the election in accordance with the candidate’s strengths. 

Biden, to the extent that he is visible at all, isterrible at campaign messaging. 

He doesn’t connect well with his supporters, many of whom minimize their exposure to him for fear of demoralization. 

Nor does he connect well with persuadable independents. 

With more than 60,000 American pandemic deaths to date and nearly 30 million jobs lost or furloughed, Biden could frame the election around the critical concerns of ordinary Americans. 

Nope. 

In April he devoted two of his biggest adsto defending himself against Trump’s accusations that he is dangerously soft on China and itsrole in the pandemic. 

Republican strategists, terrified of substantive electioneering, have decided that Trump’s best bet is precisely to lure Biden into an esoteric, anachronistic, and xenophobic fight about who will stand up to China. 

Biden has taken the bait. 

Even by the standards of easily rattled Democratic politicians, his is a remarkably rapid surrender of rhetorical ground. 

Trump was able to spook Biden in part because of the second kind of messaging—party branding. 

This kind of messaging occurs day-in, day-out, regardless of whether there’s an election imminent, and it never stops. 

Its aim is to make party designation a durable asset for candidates—not only for presidential elections but for the countless other elections that color the political map red or blue. 

Republicans are good at party branding. 

Democrats are not, to put it mildly, and thereby cede deep structural advantages to the GOP. 

Biden was afraid to look weak on China because Americans have a built-in view of the GOP as the party that does a better job of handling national security. 

This perception—a six-point advantage in recent polls— makes a significant difference when elections are decided by one or two points. 

It’s not only Trump who will invoke the Yellow Peril. 

In a messaging memo that recently came to light, Republican Senate candidates are forcefully advised to “attack China” in relation to the coronavirus crisis. 

These candidates, too, are exploiting a partisan brand advantage on “national security”—a concept with powerful connotations of strength, patriotism, and fear of the other. 

How on earth is that advantage possible? The Republican administration of George W. 

Bush failed to prevent the September 11 attacks, ignoring warnings about the danger posed by al-Qaeda. 

Then, under false pretenses, it started a war of regime change in Iraq that resulted in the rise of ISIS, the near-destruction of Syria, and a refugee crisis that shook the global political order. 

The current Republican administration has rapidly undermined NATO; poisoned relations with Ukrainian, South Korean, and Kurdish allies; worsened the climate crisis; and fostered the authoritarian interests of Russia, Iran, Syria, Turkey, North Korea, and Saudi Arabia at the expense of America’s long-established relationships and strategic goals. 

As for the GOP–Russia scandal (“Trump– Russia” is an inadequate term) and the undue influence of a hostile Russian leader over a Republican president who is obviously temperamentally unfit to be the commander-in-chief—the damage caused and the world-historical risks created are scarcely amenable to conventional description. 

Bill Clinton’s administration, meanwhile, expanded the NATO alliance while staying on good terms with Russia; forced the Haitian junta to step down; halted genocidal Serbian expansionism; helped bring peace to Ireland; and started no wars. 

Barack Obama started no wars, killed Osama bin Laden, established the United States Cyber Command, and made effective nuclear weapons deals with Russia and Iran. 

He did involve the US in a calamitous military intervention in Libya, but that did not result in a long-term military engagement. 

The Obama-Biden administration dealt effectively with two pandemics, and its National Security Council produced a sixty-ninepage playbook to prepare the Trump administration for future pandemics. 

Overthe course ofsixteen yearsthe only real threat to American domestic security created by a Democratic president was, ironically, the Obama administration’s decision to do little as the Republican Party entered into a de facto (and ongoing) electoral alliance with Russia. 

So how has the GOP emerged with a superior national-security reputation? The answer has to do with brand. 

The concept has long been embraced by the corporate world. 

Here’s David Ogilvy, the famous adman, in his classic Ogilvy on Advertising (1983), which was written about a quarter-century before mass use of the Internet: Why do some people choose Jack Daniel’s, while others choose Grand Dad or Taylor? Have they tried all three and compared the taste? Don’t make me laugh. 

The reality is that these three brands have different images which appeal to different kinds of people. 

Images, or symbolic attributes, and their cultural and emotional associations determine the value and meaning that we attach to a product and its maker. 

In The Brand Gap (2005), Marty Neumeier writes that when assessing a product consumers rely heavily on their “gut feelings.” 

 They unconsciously ask themselves: What kind of people buy it? Which “tribe” will I be joining ifI buy it? . 

And finally, who makes it? Because if I can trust the maker, I can buy it now and worry about it later. 

The degree of trust I feel towards the product, rather than an assessment of its features and benefits, will determine whether I’ll buy this product or that product. 

How did you feel about being offered the insights of Ogilvy and Neumeier? Were you impressed by their corporate credentials, or did you think it dubious or déclassé to take seriously the pronouncements of businessmen writing books to be consumed over the course of a transatlantic flight? Either way, you were responding to their brands as constituted in your perception. 

Here’s a very different writer, Walter Benjamin: What, in the end, makes advertisements so superior to criticism? Not what the moving red neon says—but the fiery pool reflecting it in the asphalt. 

The fiery pool matters. 

Image matters. 

Political parties are not exempt from this reality. 

Like manufacturers of whiskey or wristwatches, they’re making promises about how the future will turn out if you buy what they’re selling. 

Just as you don’t understand how a wristwatch works, you may not be able to understand or evaluate the technicalities or merits of a particular promise. 

Voters who are especially informed about the Green New Deal might not have a grasp of modern monetary theory. 

Almost nobody with a strong opinion about NAFTA could identify the optimal tariff formula or how to measure export supply elasticities. 

You have little choice but to trust the promisor—which means choosing which politician, or party, you will trust. 

To a significant degree that choice will be based, as trust always is, on your gut feeling. 

It’s hard to say exactly what gut feelings are, but everyone from Pierre Bourdieu to Sean Hannity to Roland Barthes agrees that they’re real and that they’re socially conditioned. 

The irony is that essentially Marxist insights into culture—into the operations of cultural capital and coded meaning—have been best understood and deployed by the right. 

This has been consequential. 

Let’s take perceptions of economic competence. 

Every Republican administration from Reagan onward has overseen a recession, and every Democratic administration has overseen a strong recovery and an economic boom. 

Do Americans trust Democrats more to do a good job with the economy? On the contrary: the GOP enjoys a durable advantage, recently at eight points. 

The pandemic may agitate sentiments and approval numbers, but even in the chaotic era of President Trump, Americans irrationally trust in the GOP’s longstanding image as the party of practical, “fiscally conservaBrand New Dems? Joseph O’Neill May 28, 2020 45 tive” businessmen who know how to run things efficiently and profitably. 

The concept of brand is increasingly accepted in academic circles as a productive way to think about politics and politicians. 

But there are still, according to professors Christopher Pich and Bruce I. 

Newman in the Journal of Political Marketing, very few pragmatic models—frameworks that can be used by political brands to assess their identity, image, reputation or position that will ultimately support the development of strategy and political brand management. 

In other words, there are no branding handbooks for political operatives in the way there are for businesspeople. 

There are books about effective political language—for example, the GOP consultant Frank Luntz’s Words That Work: It’s Not What You Say, It’s What People Hear (2007)—but these largely focus on messaging for campaigns, not on the question of how to build a lasting party brand. 

Corporations have long understood the importance of managing the social and cultural meaning of their products. 

They don’t think of a brand as an analytic tool but as an actual thing—an intangible asset, capable of being valued by accountants, that can make or break a company’s fortunes. 

The stakes are no different for political parties. 

What are Democrats doing about this? Very little, so far as one can tell. 

For years, their party-branding strategy, to the extent that one existed at all, has been to rely on the personal qualities of the president, or the quadrennial presidential nominee, to confer brand value on the party’s other candidates: the “coattails” effect. 

Even someone as charismatic and competent as President Obama couldn’t make that work after the 2008 election. 

When the White House is occupied by a Republican, Democratic branding is left even more to chance. 

A miscellany of liberal personages (the likes of Nancy Pelosi, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Chuck Schumer, Bernie Sanders, Hillary Clinton, John Lewis) serve as the faces of the party while they pursue their differing political and messaging agendas. 

From the point of view of branding, the Democratic Party is a mess. 

Republicans, by contrast, understand the importance of party branding. 

They understand that favorable generic perceptions are crucial to the success of their candidates. 

As a result they are highly disciplined and highly aggressive communicators who notoriously stick to their partisan “talking points.” 

 When Obama was president, the economy was always a “disaster.” 

 When Trump became president, the same economy was instantly touted as an “amazing” triumph. 

This cohesion had an effect: within a month of Trump’s moving into the White House, Americans held their most positive opinion of the US economy in a decade. 

One response to this might be: Never mind. 

The important thing is to beat Trump in November, and the party brand, even if it’s embodied by Biden, is strong enough for that purpose. 

Is it, though? Americans are desperate for work and income, and that desperation will only grow. 

On April 23, a Morning Consult/Politico poll found that, on the questions of whom Americans trust to handle the economy and jobs, Trump led Biden by nine and seven points, respectively. 

Trump was more trusted by five points to handle the economic recovery after the pandemic. 

Even if the GOP continues to screw things up and Democrats continue to legislate and govern sensibly, there is every chance that the GOP will emerge from the current upheaval with its economic reputation intact. 

Even if Biden prevails, it cannot be assumed that cherished goals—on economic recovery, on health care, the climate, taxes, social justice—will be more or less achievable by him, that Republicans will acknowledge the progress made, and that perceptions of the Democratic Party will correspondingly flourish. 

It is sometimes suggested that the moment of reckoning will finally arrive for the Republican Party—that its corrupt, incompetent, and lawless extremism, combined with unfavorable demographic and cultural shifts, will cause the party to implode. 

Here’s the problem: none of that will happen. 

It is the Democratic Party that faces a loss of credibility and the risk of implosion—even if Trump is defeated. 

Our democracy doesn’t work anymore. 

The Republican Party is intent on illiberal one-party rule and it doesn’t tolerate Democrats exercising power, even if it would benefit the American people. 

If, as seems likely, Republicans hold the Senate, a President Biden will struggle to pass any significant piece of legislation or make any significant judicial appointment, especially to the Supreme Court. 

He will struggle to pass legislation to fix the economy or deal with the effects of the pandemic. 

Politically, his major job will be, first, to ensure that the Republicans, and not the “Do Nothing Democrats,” are blamed for what will be a historically impotent administration; and second, to encourage a very frustrated, economically damaged Democratic base to keep faith with the party and make one more push to flip the Senate in the 2022 midterms. 

That won’t be easy. 

Moreover, as Michael Tomasky has pointed out, even if Democrats gain control of the White House and both chambers of Congress, ideological factionalism could threaten the viability of the party.* Either way, a crisis of trust—of brand—lies ahead for the Democratic Party. 

Democrats need to start thinking about this now if they want to succeed in the 2022 midterms and beyond. 

Good branding strategy isn’t salvation, of course. 

It must form part of a broader scheme for chronic winning that involves sustained grassroots organizing. 

But the more goodwill a party enjoys in the eyes of the public and of its base, the easier grassroots organizing will be. 

Political scientists often say that elections are determined not by campaigns so much as by “fundamentals”—the economy, incumbency, demographics, voting rules, and so forth. 

The comparative brand strength of the political parties is an intangible fundamental. 

The challenge, for the Democratic Party, is to turn the (D) designation into a resilient asset and the (R) designation into a resilient liability. 

What can Democrats do to make something like that happen? A winning Democratic Party brand strategy would have two parts: a strategy for increasing trust in the party, and a strategy for diminishing trust in the GOP. 

Let’s deal with the latter first. 

For years, it has been pretty clear what (R) purports to stand for. 

The GOP website states, with characteristically proprietorial and accusatory undertones, “VALUES: Our country should value the traditions of family, life, religious liberty, and hard work.” 

 Although the overall favorability of the GOP has since 1992 tended to lag behind that of Democrats, Republicans have led Democrats for about ten years in the matter of keeping the country safe and prosperous. 

Democrats, meanwhile, are viewed more favorably on health care, the environment, diversity, and education. 

You could say that people prefer Democrats in general but trust Republicans more with their most essential concerns. 

Whatever the truth of poll results, the Republican Party’s brand has been strong enough to enable it to more or less dominate the federal government, including the Supreme Court, for the last twenty years. 

Its ascendancy at the state level has been even more pronounced. 

There is, however, a chink of light for Democrats. 

Perceptions of the GOP have become closely convergent with perceptions of its leader, Trump. 

“Trump” is a weak, brittle brand. 

For a start, it’s short-term. 

“The party of Trump,” however potent, is transitory. 

When Trump leaves the scene, the GOP will find itself stuck with an identity and raison d’être that will have lost its basic logic. 

(It’s true that dynastic fantasies abound, but neither Don Jr. 

nor Ivanka Trump has their father’s unique appeal and dominance.) Second, Trumpism has made explicit the GOP’s hatred of, rather than disagreement with, people who oppose it. 

Of course, partisan disparagement has long been a Republican tactic. 

The word “liberal” became such an effective term of abuse that by the 1990s even many liberals were embarrassed by it. 

Belittlement signals solidarity to the base, conveys the impression of Democrats as weaklings and illegitimates, and tacitly asserts the über-legitimacy of Republican ideology and interests. 

But before 2016 the ideological viciousness of the GOP—its abhorrence of minorities, of “coastal elites,” of the poor—was obscured by a certain corporate deportment, talk of “compassionate conservatism,” and fables of market forces. 

Trump has changed that. 

The Republican Party is now visibly and authentically aligned with racism, vulgarity, sexism, and brutality. 

That may excite its base, but a lot of Americans don’t like it. 

That’s a big problem for the GOP, which has long based its marketing on “values.” 

 The most vulnerable part of the Trump–GOP brand, however, may not be how Republicans comport themselves but what they do when in power. 

The much-touted great economy has crashed—and in any case it was essentially the Obama economy plus greatly increased deficits, plunging industrial production, trade chaos, and enormous farming bailouts. 

Our national security is shockingly compromised by the corrupt influence of foreign despots and the disastrous federal and gubernatorial mismanagement of the coronavirus pandemic. 

Our energy policy is owned by fossil fuel interests. 

To cap it all, the Republican Party is bent on undermining the American commitment to the rule of law and fair elections. 

Registered voters approved of Senator Mitt Romney’s impeachment vote to convict Trump by eleven points. 

The current Republican “product” is historically terrible. 

At this moment of liberal outrage and GOP brand instability, Democrats have an extraordinary opportunity to cement in the minds of Americans that Democrats can be trusted to govern and Republicans cannot. 

The United States doesn’t have an electoral system, such as proportional representation, in which lots of parties compete for power. 

(It isn’t, as Neumeier puts it in his 2007 book Zag, a “cluttered” market.) Our system is dominated, pretty much always and everywhere, by two parties. 

In this sense it’s comparable to corporate sectors in which two competitors have an enormous market share and as a consequence engage in hostile, or comparative, marketing. 

(See, for example, Coke vs. 

Pepsi, DISH vs. 

DirecTV, Miller Lite vs. 

Bud Light.) They do it because each brand can increase its market share only at the expense of the other. 

The same logic applies to Democrats and Republicans. 

Republicans make it their business to wage a permanent war of partisan defamation. 

It has been very effective. 

Recall what happened to the Democrats after they took over from the tremendously unpopular Republican administration of George W. 

Bush: they got destroyed in the 2010 midterms even though they had introduced a historic health care expansion, restored financial stability, saved the auto industry, and turned the economy around. 

It was bizarre—as if the tenant who’d wrecked a property and hadn’t paid his rent had persuaded the landlord to let him back in and evict the exemplary new tenant who’d just fixed the place up. 

It happened because the Republicans consistently held the Democratic administration responsible for the effects of the Republican Recession (as it could have been, but never was, called) and because Democrats declined to market their accomplishments in partisan terms, presumably betting that their accomplishments would be selfevident to the fair-minded, supposedly post-racial American voter. 

This morbid dynamic—Republicans break things, Democrats fix them, Republicans win even more power—won’t change unless Democrats commit to doing what Republicans do: systematically diminishing the standing and credibility of the other party. 

A negative brand strategy would involve, first, a master narrative; and second, messages that express and amplify the master narrative. 

Pepsi’s narrative is that its cola tastes better than Coke’s. 

The “Pepsi Challenge” ads are its messages. 

The Democratic story about the GOP would be designed for a particular audience. 

The audience isn’t the Democratic base, which already has a strongly negative perception of the GOP. 

Nor can it be the Republican *See Michael Tomasky, “The Party Cannot Hold,” The New York Review, March 26, 2020. 

46 The New York Review base, whose gut feelings are fixed. 

The audience for negative branding is squishy voters who occasionally check the (R) box, which they associate with competence and patriotism. 

Currently, that audience may be smaller than usual, but it is crucial. 

We’re talking, as always, about winning at the margins and winning for years. 

Democrats want marginal Republican voters to feel that they can’t trust the Republican Party— not anymore. 

There’s something off about those guys. 

There’s your master narrative, by the way: Republicans can’t be trusted anymore. 

“Anymore” is important, because your audience may have a history or culture of trusting them. 

The nature of your audience also dictates that your messaging can’t consist of trashing the other side. 

That would backfire. 

Your messaging goal is simply to make your audience feel uncomfortable about what (R) now stands for. 

Here’s a case study. 

On the morning of January 12, the Republican president published a tweet in which he called the Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, “Crazy Nancy.” 

 That day, George Stephanopoulos asked Pelosi to comment. 

She replied, “It’s Sunday morning, I’d like to talk about some more pleasantsubjectsthan the erratic nature of this president of the United States. 

But he has to know that every knock from him is a boost.” 

 Later she added: So again, I don’t like to spend too much time on his crazy tweets, because everything he saysis a projection. 

When he calls someone crazy he knows that he is. 

Everything he says you can just translate it back to who he is. 

Let’s be optimistic about the future, a future that will not have Donald Trump in the White House one way or another. 

Pretty good, right? Now imagine if Pelosi had said something like this: It’s very unfortunate. 

It’s what the Republican Party has turned into. 

I’m not sure what has happened to them. 

It’s very sad for our country. 

A lot of folks used to look up to people in the Republican Party, used to trust them to do what was right for Americans—to do their job. 

But that’s all changed. 

Their values have changed radically. 

Americans are asking, “What’s happened to the Republican Party?” I can’t answer that. 

But I can tell you one thing: Americans will have their say in November. 

Pelosi’s actual response was impressive: it showed her to be a calm, dignified grownup, and it favorably differentiated her from Trump. 

But going after Trump by name and criticizing his personal attributes has little value so far as partisan branding goes: in fact, by positioning Democrats as the alternative to Trump, by positioning Trump and not the GOP as the problem, Pelosi absorbed the provisionality of the Trump brand into her own party’s brand. 

The imaginary Pelosi response, by contrast, would tell the brand story: Americans can’t trust the Republican Party anymore. 

What’s relevant about the president’s misconduct is that it’s Republican misconduct. 

Americans are right to be worried about the Republican Party. 

It would be a problem for GOP strategists if every time Trump tweets, Democrats from across the ideological spectrum respond in unison, in a tone that’s more in sorrow than anger, that the Republican Party has lost its values. 

Nor would this messaging tactic be confined to presidential tweets. 

Republican politicians say and do horrible things every day. 

With a clearly understood negative brand strategy, Democratic officials would be able to plug into their basic narrative in response to every new datum of right-wing viciousness or incompetence. 

Hundreds of gun extremists are occupying Richmond, Virginia, on Martin Luther King Day? Easy: “I have lots of conservative friends. 

They’re all asking, ‘What has happened to the Republican Party?’” This communication structure is applicable to the biggest issues, too. 

Take the impeachment trial: The Republican president was caught red-handed trying to sabotage the election. 

Now Republican senators have sabotaged the impeachment trial. 

Americans see what’s happening. 

They get that Republicans will do anything to hold onto power. 

They’re asking themselves: Can Republicans be trusted with power? There’s more to be said, yes—and indeed if you’re a Democrat on Twitter and you’re communicating with your base, it is your duty to reflect what your base is thinking and feeling. 

But when squishy conservatives are listening and watching—almost 40 percent of Republicans get their information from sources other than Fox News—they must hear the same message again and again and again. 

In addition to the basic narrative, you adopt two subnarratives that weaken the GOP’s most consequential brand advantages with your audience: national security/patriotism, and the economy. 

Democrats should have one, maximum two, repeatable messages that incidentally take ownership of the “America” concept—let’s say, “Republicans always crash the American economy” and “This new Republican Party can’t be trusted to keep the country safe.” 

 In Words That Work, Luntz shows how such messages must be approached with great care: Does “crash” or “wreck” work better? Is it more effective to talk about “our national security” than “keeping the country safe”? Just imagine the hole the GOP would now find itself in if these narratives were already in place. 

If Democrats start repeating direct statements that weaken trust in the GOP, these ideas would also influence media coverage of the latest news. 

It’s a common, and accurate, complaint that the mainstream media (which a lot of squishy voters watch) fail to acknowledge the Republican threat to our democracy. 

But the media takes its cues from the parties. 

When Republicans talk nonstop about Benghazi, that fabricated issue becomes a mediated reality. 

Conversely, if Democrats fail to assert, explicitly and repeatedly, that the Republican Party as such is unfit for power, how can it expect TV journalists to broach the issue? When, at some point in the future, the GOP tries to distance itself from Trumpism, Democrats should already have affixed in people’s minds that the GOP, not Trump, is the problem. 

What Democrats cannot do, at any point, is help the GOP rehabilitate its own brand. 

That sounds crazy—why would a party do that?—but Joe Biden appears intent on precisely this course of action. 

Currently there is an almost complete absence of will within the Democratic Party to strategically diminish the GOP’s reputation. 

This lack of will has several strands. 

First, there are powerful senior Democrats—Senator Dianne Feinstein, for example, and Representative Richard Neal—who came of age when backslapping cross-party legislative compromise was normal, and for whom negative partisan branding would be an alien and disagreeable concept. 

Second, many Democratic politicians have risen primarily because they are good at fundraising, not because they are talented partisan communicators— Senator Chuck Schumer, for example. 

They would struggle with negative messaging even if they supported the concept and could set aside tacit loyalties to corporate or special-interest donors. 

Third, there are the younger, more leftist members whose idealism and ambition make the Democratic establishment, rather than the GOP, the target of their efforts. 

Fourth, and fundamentally, the Democratic brand has long involved a refusal to engage in hostile partisan rhetoric, the better to convey a highminded focus on facts and policies. 

The republic, however, finds itself in extremis. 

The Democratic base expects its elected politicians to do something—specifically, whatever it takes to win elections. 

Disciplined messaging has never been the forte of Democrats, it’s true. 

But that’s no longer acceptable. 

What is to be done? Very simply, we need to see a negative branding operation complete with strategists, writers, and messengers. 

The only organization that appears equipped to manage this isthe Democratic National Committee. 

The nearest thing it has to a branding operation is its War Room. 

Its communications strategy—Trump is the villain—is confirmed by a quick scroll through @DNCWarRoom’s tweets: almost every tweet mentions Trump and how awful he is. 

The audience is clearly the Democratic base. 

The intention isto let them know that the DNC shares their outrage. 

This presumably helps with fundraising and with 2020 electioneering. 

But it doesn’t advance the DNC’s medium- or long-term goals, because the actual villain is the GOP. 

The War Room is acting like a Battle Room— trying to conquer the nearest hill. 

Democrats need to conquer the land. 

Whether it’s located in-house or outsourced or a mixture of both, a permanent negative branding campaign is feasible. 

Much thornier is the question of how to brand the Democratic Party itself. 

While it may be desirable for the DNC to organize an anti-GOP branding operation, a similar initiative directed at shaping perceptions of the Democratic Party would almost certainly be met with suspicion and rejection. 

The DNC has its own brand issues: a lot of Democrats don’t trust it and, not unrelatedly, they don’t trust the Democratic Party. 

How can that be changed? A brand strategy for the Democratic Party mustreckon with three audiences: squishy Republicans and squishy Democrats; the party base; and those on the left, often younger voters, who vote (D) reluctantly or not at all. 

The complexity of the market is aggravated by an irremediable structural problem. 

Large portions of the party’s supporters have little in common with one another— socially, racially, culturally, economically, ideologically. 

In the marketing world, this problem is called audience fragmentation. 

If you’re trying to create a coherent party identity, the diversity of voters that the Democratic Party so commendably attracts is daunting. 

Logic suggests that the Democratic brand could be a Janus brand. 

That is, it would offer one face to the audience of apolitical types (including the media), and another face to the party faithful. 

This isn’t ideal, but it’s what the GOP did until Trump took over. 

It presented a façade of reassuring “adults” to the world at large and, by its media proxies (Fox News, talk radio, etc.) and by dogwhistling, it communicated something much more tribal and extreme to its base. 

That’s going to be difficult for the Democratic Party to replicate. 

Democrats, because they are fragmented, have diverse sources of political information and diverse priorities. 

As for dog-whistling, that only works if you’ve already gained the trust of yoursupporters—if they already believe that you’ll deliver for them when you have power. 

(“Promises Made, Promises Kept” is a current GOP slogan.) That level of trust simply doesn’t exist among supporters of the Democratic Party, wherever they may be situated in the “big tent.” 

 The party’s brand is too weak. 

The most obvious way for the Democrats to successfully position themselves, across their many audiences, would be by passing a universally popular piece of legislation that is strongly and durably associated with the party, as Social Security once was. 

This would require a transformative initiative—on health care, say, or on green energy— that not only comes to fruition but is touted in partisan and popularizing terms. 

The Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) was flawed on both of these counts: it didn’t contain the public option, which disappointed a lot of people; and, calamitously, Democratic politicians were embarrassed, fearful, and apologetic about a policy initiative that Republicans loudly objected to. 

This was irrational as well as spineless. 

Republicans loudly object to anything Democrats do. 

But transformative legislation is never easy. 

There’s always turbulent political opposition, and to overcome that you need supporters who stand by their party as well as party leaders who stand by their supporters. 

For Democrats, it’s a catch-22: in order to do the big things that would get more people to trust the party, the party needs more people to trust it. 

Is there some way out of this impasse? In The Brand Flip (2015), Neumeier summarizes recent thinking about branding. 

Formerly, he argues, the realpowerlaywiththe company and its leaders, who were seen as authority figures. 

Nowadays, customers reject that authority, and at the same time require a measure of control over the products they love. 

They no longer BUY brands. 

They May 28, 2020 47 JOIN brands. 

They’re willing to roll up their sleeves and help out, not only by promoting the brand to their friends, but by contributing content, volunteering ideas, and even selling products or services. 

The Bernie Sanders brand operates a bit like this: it encourages people to join and become active in a political tribe or “movement” (Sanders’s preferred term) that doesn’t wax and wane in accordance with the electoral calendar. 

But the movement is significantly powered by its members’ emotional connection to a charismatic authority figure. 

From a party-branding point of view, that’s weak. 

Moreover, Sanders, as an Independent, has made a career out of differentiating himself from Democrats, and he’s seventy-eight years old. 

He can’t, and won’t, rescue their brand. 

His idea of a movement, however, could. 

What Neumeier describes is called participation branding—making your most passionate customers integral to your marketing campaigns, typically by inviting them to publicize, on social media and in your ads, what your product means to them. 

The political equivalent of participation branding would involve empowering the grassroots to drive a party’s agenda, actions, and identity. 

Something like this happened in the 2018 midterms. 

The self-organizing, digitally financed grassroots of the Democratic Party adopted a clear brand (“the Resistance”), a clear metonym (“blue”), a clear message (“Resist”), and a clear goal (a “Blue Wave”). 

The Democratic Party powers that be, chastened by the remarkably thorough failures of their 2010–2016 strategies, confined themselves to a supporting role. 

The result was a nationwide brand advantage for (D) candidates over (R) candidates, and a wave election. 

The Democratic Party, at its strongest, has stood for ordinary people. 

There would be no more powerful, effective, and lasting way to restore trust in the party than to align its core identity with its practices. 

You do that by branding the party as the grassroots party, and you authenticate the brand by placing at the core of the party’s operations the technical, financial, and moral support of diverse grassroots organizing groups. 

You don’t interfere in primaries. 

You do support regionalism, variation, and an ethos of mutual respect. 

Montana Democrats, after all, may think differently from their counterparts in Massachusetts. 

In effect, the party ethos would be to validate, elevate, and sustain the passionate activism that represents its best bet for winning year after year. 

It might be said that the party would lose control of its brand. 

The answer is that the party doesn’t control its brand anyway, nor should it. 

This isn’t a conceptual argument; it’s a concrete one. 

It’s based on the actual political landscape, populated by citizen-consumers who demand a meaningful political product. 

If the Democratic Party wants to be viewed as the party of ordinary Americans, it must embody that vision. 

The DNC website currently proclaims, “The Democratic Party elects leaders who fight for equality, justice, and opportunity for all.” 

 That should read, “Democrats are Americans who fight for equality, justice, and opportunity for all. 

The Democratic Party exists to give them power.” 

   —April 29, 2020 


How progressives should respond to another polling failure

How progressives should respond to another polling failure

By Ryan Cooper.

November 5, 2020.

The presidential election has not yet been called, but Joe Biden seems to have an insurmountable lead in enough states to secure victory in the Electoral College. Nevertheless, it's clear that the polls were seriously off in many states. Biden was predicted to win easily, with comfortable margins in some states that ended up nearly even and the possibility of picking up several more that he ended up losing decisively. Similarly, several Democratic Senate candidates performed well below their expected numbers.


As a result, many progressives are understandably frustrated about the second consecutive polling whiff in a presidential election year. Staggering amounts of money were wasted on campaigns that were not close at all. About $90 million went into Amy McGrath's doomed vanity campaign for Senate in Kentucky, where she lost by over 20 points — but another $108.9 million went into Jaime Harrison's campaign against Lindsey Graham in South Carolina, which polls showed to be close but ended up being a 10-point loss. Something is very wrong with pollsters' methods.


What is to be done? I suggest that progressives and Democrats should sink some of their money into local research — organizations that will conduct journalism, interviews, focus groups, listening sessions, and so forth to supplement surveys and polls. That could both provide some more qualitative data to balance out untrustworthy polls, and also build up an institutional presence on the ground that will be valuable in future political fights.


Some might say that Democrats should just run on quality policy, and completely ignore the polls. And it's true, as I have argued many times previously, that Democrats tend to overrate opinion polls in making their decisions (or hide behind them when they don't want to do something that would alienate big donors). Many people do not have well-formed opinions about the issues, and can be convinced one way or another with careful messaging and strong leadership. Polls should never be dispositive, only informative.


But knowledge of public opinion must play a vital role in any kind of modern political campaign. Even in these big spending times, resources are not unlimited. A decent idea of how close races are allows organizations to prioritize their spending, while granular data about locations and demographics allows campaigns to shape their messaging and their turnout efforts. If a candidate doesn't know where he or she is stronger or weaker, or how people are reacting to arguments, it's impossible to fight tactically. Even back in the pre-polling days, political campaigns relied on union leaders, local party bosses, ward heelers, and so on to provide some crude intelligence.


Now, local research can be even more misleading than bad polls. This kind of anecdotal journalism, for instance, is often a complete joke. One must avoid the Salena Zito problem, where a journalist supposedly doing shoe leather reporting miraculously finds that everyone (that is, a bunch of Republican partisans that Zito claims are Democrats) agrees with her pro-Trump politics. More generally, one must avoid the temptation to talk one's book — shading the research to advance one's personal politics, which can happen even unconsciously.


That said, local research can capture political intelligence that even accurate survey data can miss. Structured conversations, knowledge of local relationships, or even just a feel for the local mood can provide valuable information even if it can't be programmed into a spreadsheet. For every Zito article or "Trump supporters who still support Trump" piece in The New York Times, there is work like Michael Lewis on the 2008 financial crisis in Iceland, or Sharon Lerner on "Cancer Alley" in Louisiana. Academic anthropology has developed elaborate tools for conducting ethnographic studies in an informative, fair way. (Incidentally, there are a large number of unemployed or struggling academics who would probably leap at the chance to do quality field work for a steady paycheck.)


This kind of thing is already happening in other contexts. The Federal Reserve, for instance, has access to all the best economic data available — far, far better than any poll. Yet before the pandemic struck, it organized a series of "Fed Listens" tours across the country, where Fed officials had long conversations with local business and community leaders. Ordinarily one would think this would be a silly exercise in public relations, but as Brendan Greeley reports for the Financial Times, it actually had a marked effect on Fed leaders' thinking and policy. They discovered in a visceral, intuitive way that basically no Americans are concerned about inflation, but were very concerned with jobs and incomes. It's partly why the Fed correctly moved to stimulate the economy even before the pandemic struck, and some officials are suggesting the tours should be institutionalized as part of Fed procedure. That type of knowledge and experience can make a good complement to even the best data in the world. "I've been pleasantly surprised at how meaningful they were," said Neel Kashkari, head of the Minneapolis Fed branch.


Progressives donated an absolute avalanche of money in the final stages of this election. Just in the third quarter of 2020, small donors funneled $1.5 billion through the donation portal ActBlue — nearly matching the entire total for 2018. It seems that donations are what millions of progressives are doing to relieve their intense desire to do something to fight the Republicans. And I understand why! But building some local institutions, inside or outside the Democratic Party, would give people something to do that would be more concretely useful than the marginal billionth dollar, and could easily be spun up into actual campaign work. (It seems Biden's abandonment of door knocking was likely a significant factor in his underperformance.)


There is no replacement for accurate polls. But people are going to be suspicious of pollsters for a long time, at least until they stop faceplanting for several elections in a row. In the meantime, Democrats and activist groups alike can divert just a bit of that money firehose and start opening some permanent field operations.


Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Win or Lose, Trump Shows His Unfitness

Win or Lose, Trump Shows His Unfitness
The president’s grossly irresponsible claims aside, the only thing to do now is wait for votes to be counted.

By Jonathan Bernstein, an hour ago
Stop talking.
Photographer: Mandel Ngan/AFP

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As I write this, some eight states still haven’t been called for president, and millions of regular, lawful ballots haven’t been counted. President Donald Trump nevertheless falsely claimed early Wednesday morning that he has won re-election — and that all the states where he was currently trailing would eventually be his once the ballots were counted, whereas all the states in which he was currently leading were obviously victories for him and that the Supreme Court should cut off the counts, thanks to what he falsely called “fraud” without even a hint of evidence.

In other words, win or lose, Trump has demonstrated once again that he is fully unfit for the office that he seeks to hold for a second term.

Of course, Trump’s words have no legal importance whatsoever. He doesn’t get to decide who wins and whose votes get to be counted. In fact, it’s quite possible that his wild accusations may backfire. Several Republican politicians who back the president, along with several Fox News on-air hosts, criticized him immediately. So, of course, did Democrats and the “neutral” media. Obviously, that doesn’t affect the basic math as the tabulation continues to accumulate — and it’s still quite likely that there will be a clear winner once all the votes are counted. But it’s not impossible that it could affect what happens in the courts, or even (gulp) if Congress winds up having to sort it all out.


What happened in congressional elections is a bit clearer. Republicans have an excellent chance of retaining their Senate majority even if Joe Biden wins the presidency, although there are several uncalled races, and at least one runoff election coming in Georgia. On the House side, Republicans did much better than expected, but Democrats easily retained their majority. That means we’re most likely headed for at least two more years of divided-party government.

But I’ll just repeat what I said earlier on Bloomberg’s live blog: We’re all just going to have to wait for the votes to be counted. No matter how many times Trump falsely says that there’s something wrong with that.

(I’m afraid I have no links today. Links will resume tomorrow — and maybe we’ll even have a presidential result to discuss by then.)


Monday, November 2, 2020

My party is destroying itself on the altar of Trump

My party is destroying itself on the altar of Trump

Benjamin L. Ginsberg practiced election law for 38 years. He co-chaired the bipartisan 2013 Presidential Commission on Election Administration.


President Trump has failed the test of leadership. His bid for reelection is foundering. And his only solution has been to launch an all-out, multimillion-dollar effort to disenfranchise voters — first by seeking to block state laws to ease voting during the pandemic, and now, in the final stages of the campaign, by challenging the ballots of individual voters unlikely to support him.


This is as un-American as it gets. It returns the Republican Party to the bad old days of “voter suppression” that landed it under a court order to stop such tactics — an order lifted before this election. It puts the party on the wrong side of demographic changes in this country that threaten to make the GOP a permanent minority.


These are painful words for me to write. I spent four decades in the Republican trenches, representing GOP presidential and congressional campaigns, working on Election Day operations, recounts, redistricting and other issues, including trying to lift the consent decree.


Nearly every Election Day since 1984 I’ve worked with Republican poll watchers, observers and lawyers to record and litigate any fraud or election irregularities discovered.


The truth is that over all those years Republicans found only isolated incidents of fraud. Proof of systematic fraud has become the Loch Ness Monster of the Republican Party. People have spent a lot of time looking for it, but it doesn’t exist.


As he confronts losing, Trump has devoted his campaign and the Republican Party to this myth of voter fraud. Absent being able to articulate a cogent plan for a second term or find an attack against Joe Biden that will stick, disenfranchising enough voters has become key to his reelection strategy.


Perhaps this was the plan all along. The president’s unsubstantiated talk about “rigged” elections caused by absentee ballot “fraud” and “cheating” has been around since 2016; it’s just increased in recent weeks.


Trump has enlisted a compliant Republican Party in this shameful effort. The Trump campaign and Republican entities engaged in more than 40 voting and ballot court cases around the country this year. In exactly none — zero — are they trying to make it easier for citizens to vote. In many, they are seeking to erect barriers.


All of the suits include the mythical fraud claim. Many are efforts to disqualify absentee ballots, which have surged in the pandemic. The grounds range from supposedly inadequate signature matches to burdensome witness requirements. Others concern excluding absentee ballots postmarked on Election Day but received later, as permitted under state deadlines. Voter-convenience devices such as drop boxes and curbside voting have been attacked.


Texas Republicans even thought it was a good idea to challenge 100,000 ballots already cast at a Harris County drive-through voting center that they want retroactively declared illegal. Perhaps they forgot the Republican expressions of outrage in Florida in 2000 when Democrats sought unsuccessfully to exclude 25,000 absentee ballots in GOP counties because of administrative error, not voter fault.


I was there, and I haven’t.


The GOP lawyers managing these lawsuits may have tactical reasons for bringing each. But taken as a whole, they shout the unmistakable message that an expanded electorate means Trump loses.


This attempted disenfranchisement of voters cannot be justified by the unproven Republican dogma about widespread fraud. Challenging voters at the polls or disputing the legitimacy of mail-in ballots isn’t about fraud. Rather than producing conservative policies that appeal to suburban women, young voters or racial minorities, Republicans are trying to exclude their votes.


“We have volunteers, attorneys and staff in place to ensure that election officials are following the law and counting every lawful ballot,” Justin Riemer, chief counsel for the Republican National Committee, said Friday.


That’s not precisely true. The Republican challenging effort is focused almost exclusively in heavily Democratic areas. Signature mismatches will go unheeded by Trump forces in friendly precincts. This is not about finding fraud and irregularities. It’s about suppressing the number of votes not cast for Trump.


Maybe the president foreshadowed his real purpose at a Pennsylvania rally Saturday night, predicting “bedlam” if the results aren’t known Nov. 3. In fact, challenged ballots aren’t reviewed until days later. So in a tight race, Trump’s demands for a quick result could cause the very bedlam he rails against. Or allow him to claim a false election night victory based on bad-faith challenges.


How sad it is to recall that just seven years ago the Grand Old Party conducted an “autopsy” that emphasized the urgency of building a big tent to reach communities of color, women and young voters. Now it is erecting voting barriers for those very groups. Instead of enlarging the tent, the party has taken a chain saw to its center pole.


My party is destroying itself on the Altar of Trump. Republican elected officials, party leaders and voters must recognize how harmful this is to the party’s long-term prospects.


My fellow Republicans, look what we’ve become. It is we who must fix this. Trump should not be reelected. Vote, but not for him.


Read more:


Sunday, November 1, 2020

It’s up to the people to foil Trump’s plot against democracy


It’s up to the people to foil Trump’s plot against democracy
by Robert Kagan, washingtonpost.com
October 30, 2020 07:00 AM

As American democracy hurtles toward what could be its final crisis, we continue to hope that someone will ultimately rise up to save us, that somehow our institutions will protect us, that people in positions of authority will finally do the right thing. This faith in the resilience of democracy is endearing, but unfortunately all it has done these past four years is blind and paralyze us. Believing that the only problem was President Trump and his authoritarian inclinations, we have looked to those around him — in the White House, in the Justice Department, in Congress and in the courts — to control and contain him, presumably out of some innate love of democracy.

It did not occur to us that men and women with respectable résumés might be just as willing to subvert the democratic system as Trump himself, as if U.S. officials alone were immune from the temptations of power. The consequence of this self-delusion is that we have now almost run out of chances to stop them.
Trump and his supporters have told us exactly how they plan to hold onto power regardless of the election outcome. The president began declaring the election “rigged” even before early voting began, and he has yet to say that he will respect a result that does not favor him. Republicans in hotly contested states are already planning to bring lawsuits alleging fraud, miscounts, tainted ballots and other irregularities.

The national intelligence director, John Ratcliffe, has set the predicate for charges of foreign interference by overhyping alleged Iranian manipulation before the election. When Ratcliffe finds evidence of Iranian and other foreign interference, as he surely will, Attorney General William P. Barr will call for an investigation. Anyone in the intelligence community who disputes Ratcliffe’s claims will either be silenced or fired. Trump officials are already leaking that FBI Director Christopher A. Wray, CIA Director Gina Haspel and Defense Secretary Mark T. Esper might be removed after the election. The claims of Republican state legislatures and the results of the “investigation” into foreign meddling will then come before the Supreme Court, which, with a solid 6-to-3 conservative majority, will put its stamp of legitimacy on the stolen election.

We have been told that Trump is too lazy, ignorant and incompetent to pull off this kind of coup. But what of the people who both serve him and benefit from him? We look at people such as Barr and White House chief of staff Mark Meadows as engaged in a balancing act, trying to preserve some moral and legal scruples while doing the president’s bidding. That is how we viewed those who came before them, including those former generals who served in the administration: John Kelly, H.R. McMaster and Jim Mattis.

This is naive. People enter government out of a blend of conviction and ambition. Few joined the Trump administration out of conviction. To justify their decision, they told themselves, and us, that it was because Trump was dangerous and incompetent that good people had to go in. They would “serve” the nation by protecting us from the man who gave them their job and at whose pleasure they served. We wanted to believe them. We slept better at night knowing that “adults” were in the room. They provided a facade of normalcy and competence, implicitly assuring us with their mere presence that it was safe to go about life as if our democracy was not, in fact, in peril. But it was, of course, and the “adults” did nothing to alert us, much less save us. It took a mid-level official to reveal Trump and his gang’s malfeasance in Ukraine in real time. Had it just been up to the “adults,” and the hundreds of other political appointees, we would never have known.

Now the “adults” have passed from the scene, and our fate is in the hands of Barr and the others — the survivors, for now, in Trump’s “Hunger Games” of loyalty. Some may still want to believe that these individuals are wrestling with their consciences. But it is too late for that, and these people know it. Barr, Ratcliffe, Meadows and others are in too deep. They have probably crossed too many lines by now, and they know what happens if Trump leaves office. In January, they would wake up in Joe Biden’s America, with House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.), Senate Minority (or Majority) Leader Charles E. Schumer (D-N.Y.) and soon thousands of appointees at the Justice Department, the State Department, the CIA and FBI who served under Barack Obama and Bill Clinton holding the commanding heights of power. No one knows better than Barr how one administration’s alleged sins become the next administration’s criminal investigations.

Do we imagine that when Republican legislatures and the “intelligence community” cry foul after the election, and when Trump’s millions of followers scream for justice, that Barr and the others, out of their devotion to democracy, will not do what needs to be done to keep themselves in power?

That leaves the justices of the Supreme Court. We are supposed to believe that a conservative court, particularly Trump’s appointees, will adjudicate the coming election challenges without partisan taint. This is truly the triumph of hope over experience. From Bush v. Gore in 2000 to the recent cases involving ballots in Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, justices have cast their decisions along partisan lines with machine-like dependability.
Are we to count on Justice Brett M. Kavanaugh, whom the Democrats savaged, to side with them against the man who put him on the court? Kavanaugh’s in a Monday ruling, in which he suggested that counting late-arriving absentee ballots in Wisconsin might “flip the results” of the election, could have been written by Trump himself — as Justice Elena Kagan pointed out, there are no “results” to “flip” until all valid ballots are counted.

As for Justice Amy Coney Barrett, yes, it is theoretically possible that she would break from her Republican colleagues and vote to unseat the man and the party that just put her on the court, that she would put in power the Democrats who did all they could to stop her from achieving her lifelong ambition. But if you can believe that, then you deserve your fate in the new America that awaits us.

Let’s be clear about what that America will look like. An administration that steals an election by abusing power must continue abusing that power to keep it. And Trump will have no shortage of excuses to wield power. A stolen election will bring tens of millions into the streets, possibly for weeks and months. The nation will have descended into an extra-constitutional civil conflict, with each side using the tools available to try to prevail.

For Trump, those tools are those of the executive, which the founders entrusted with immense power, from the administration of justice to the defense of the nation by the armed forces. The administration’s opponents, lacking institutional power, will be able to count only on its millions in the streets, and on the democratic consciences of individual judges and justices and federal employees, armed and unarmed, across the country. But consider what they will be asking. They will be counting on federal employees to do the “right thing” by turning against the man whom even the Supreme Court has declared their legitimate president.

Meanwhile, Trump and his minions will purge the federal government of all those deemed disloyal. Barr will open and expand investigations into anyone suspected of conspiring against the president, in 2016, in 2020 and for as long as Trump remains in power. Owners of mainstream media outlets will become targets of investigations by government agencies. Smears against Democratic lawmakers will mount. Trump’s supporters at massive rallies will shout “Lock them up!” And who will come to the rescue of the persecuted? Who in a position of power will have an incentive to reverse the events that kept them in power?

Congressional Republicans will be fighting for their own survival, while Tucker Carlson, Sen. Tom Cotton (R-Ark.), Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Mo.), Donald Trump Jr. and others compete to be Trump’s successor in the affections of the masses. Maybe Sen. Mitt Romney (R-Utah), the master of glorious but meaningless gestures, will give some more moving speeches.

This may sound like the Sinclair Lewis novel “It Can’t Happen Here.” Perhaps it won’t happen. Maybe Trump and his gang don’t have the skill or steely courage required to pull it off. Perhaps they will just fade away. If so, we will be fortunate, but undeserving. We kept counting on others to save us — our institutions, our political leaders, our courts — but help never arrived. And as we waited for someone, anyone, to do the right thing, we moved closer to the end.

Now all we have left is the people. The voters, for all their failings, may prove more trustworthy than their supposed guardians. They may deliver us by delivering an irrefutable landslide to Biden. Or, failing that, by going out into the streets in an American version of “people power” to foil the plot against their democracy. A republic, if we can save it.