In a wide-ranging interview on Tuesday, Vice President Kamala Harris was faced with a series of questions about her position on Israel’s war on Gaza, and specifically, whether her administration would see a shift in US policy.
But pressed for specifics at an event hosted by the National Association of Black Journalists, Harris repeatedly declined, opting largely to stick to familiar talking points that expressed support for a two-party solution and deals to secure the release of Israeli hostages and a ceasefire. In other words, Harris stuck closely to the party line—appearing in some moments slightly frustrated with follow-up questions from moderators, like this exchange with Politico‘s Eugene Daniels:
“You’ve gotten a lot of credit for emphasizing the humanity of Palestinians. But what I often hear from folks is that there is no policy change that either you or President Biden said you would do. Is there a policy change as president that you would do in our helping of Israel in this war?”
“We need to get this deal done,” Harris replied, “and we need to get it done immediately. And that is my position. And that is my policy.”
Daniels followed up.“But in the way that we send weapons and the way we interact as their ally, are there specific policy changes?”
Harris said that she was “entirely supportive” of the Biden administration’s decision to pause a shipment of weapons. She then quickly turned back to a need for a ceasefire agreement.
The line of questioning was the toughest Harris has faced on the issue, which remains a source of deep frustration among some Democratic voters over what they see as the party’s effort to push Gaza into the margins of political discourse. Harris’ answers on Tuesday, which relied heavily on boilerplate campaign points, are unlikely to quell that criticism.
For most Americans, the start of Donald Trump’s presidential career can be traced to those golden escalators, a 2015 Trump Tower spectacle that previewed much of the racism, lying, and vitriol that would come to define the political era ahead.
It was a campaign kickoff unlike anything that had been witnessed before, still referenced today to deride Trump’s ugly beginnings. “Here’s a 78-year-old billionaire who has not stopped whining about his problems since he rode down his golden escalator nine years ago,” former President Barack Obama said in his speech at the Democratic National Convention.
But what if you were 9 when that happened? What if incessant presidential whining was not only familiar, but perhaps all you’ve seen about America’s political landscape? What if, contrary to the popular slogan of 2016, this is normal?
For first-time voters in the 2024 election—11 by the time the white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, rattled the country—that’s overwhelmingly the case. Yet, for all the familiarity with the politically absurd, it’s precisely this group’s relative youth during some of the most shocking and surreal moments of Trump’s first term that lends itself to the natural question: What parts struck a preteen at the time? Did the terms that rattled in adult brains for years—covfefe, Robert Mueller, Sharpie-gate, deep state—mean anything to a Trump-era kid?
Because a large chunk of my paycheck is earned by paying close attention to these shitstorm news cycles, I was curious what someone whose brain was developing instead of melting made of the 45th president’s time in office.
Put simply: What does an average teen think, remember, and make of Trump? And what would their knowledge, or lack of it, reveal about what the typical adult might miss about the last decade?
We caught up with three teen voters to find out what it means to grow up in the Trump era:
Eve, 18, Hawaii
In a few words, give me a sense of what you know about Donald Trump and how you, as a first-time voter, perceive him.
I was in the fifth grade when the 2016 election happened. I remember our teachers talking to us about the election, usually adding that it was a controversial topic, but none of us really understood why. My teachers would ask us questions like: “How do you feel about this? How do you feel about that?” But I felt like many of those conversations were a copy-and-paste job of what most of our parents were saying at the time.
I’d wonder, “Why did we freak out so much about that if I still go to school, I still do whatever?” I was too young to really see the changes and the effects of it.
For a long time, my political views—if I even had any as a kid—were based on my parents. I wanted to believe the opposite of what they believed. My dad is a Republican; he voted for Trump and will probably do so again this year.
That was a very confusing thing for me, because I would see crazy things about Trump supporters online. But as a kid, I’d look at my dad and know that he was such a nice person.
Like, I love my dad; I’m having dinner with him right now, and he’s, you know, a pretty kind guy. That was pretty confusing. My mom is pretty moderate and wanted to vote for [Robert F. Kennedy] Jr. this election.
How do you think she’ll vote now that RFK Jr. is out of the race?
I think she is going to vote for Trump. I’m pretty upset that Kennedy is out because I wanted to vote for him. I literally have a shirt that says, “Surfers for Kennedy,” on it. I was so excited to vote for someone who wasn’t Donald Trump or Kamala Harris. But now that he’s dropped out, I’m going to vote for Kamala.
Growing up in the age of Trump, how did adults around you speak of the former president?
It depended on where I was at the time. For example, if I went and hung out with my Aunt Jamie and Uncle C.J. in LA for the day, I would hear a very different perspective from what I had normally been around: the Megyn Kelly Show, Dan Bongino, super right-wing podcasts that my parents would listen to.
And then I would hang out with my aunt and uncle, and then they’d be like, those people are crazy. It opened my horizons a lot. My Aunt Jamie and Uncle C.J. have since shaped a lot of my political opinions now because they’re very good at talking to my family about politics without making it into a huge argument.
Now being in Hawaii, that’s also shaped my views a bit. I wouldn’t call Hawaiians anti-America, but you hear a lot of “I’m not voting in this election. I don’t care what happens on the mainland.”
As a kid, what was your typical reaction to this discourse?
It was crazy. It was so confusing. Everyone was talking about how things would be really bad if Trump won or how things would be really bad if Hillary (Clinton) won. I didn’t understand how someone who hadn’t even won yet could have so much influence on what was going on.
But once Trump did win, I saw no difference in my life. At the time, I was a kid growing up in Malibu, [California;] I had a pretty privileged life, right? I saw no difference in anything. And I’d wonder, “Why did we freak out so much about that if I still go to school, I still do whatever?” I was too young to really see the changes and the effects of it.
The only difference I noticed was that people were posting way more on social media.
What were some of your first memories of Trump’s White House?
This is going to be very niche, but when I was in fifth grade, I watched a lot of BuzzFeed videos. And I remember there was this one under their subcategory Ladylike that featured women wearing suits every day for a week. It was some kind of empowerment challenge. I had no clue it was going to feature anything on the election. But I’m watching it and halfway through the video, Trump wins the election at the time, and they did a whole section of these women crying.
I still remember sitting on my bed watching that and being like, “Oh, this might be bad. Like, if all these girls I watch all the time are upset, this might be bad.”
Did you know that Trump was impeached twice?
No, I didn’t know he was twice impeached, but I knew he was impeached. I’d heard about it.
“This is not normal” was a popular phrase during the 2016 election. I’m just curious: If you could choose to live in that supposedly pre-Trump era, do you think you’d want to?
That’s a good question. Honestly, I think anything before Trump would be pretty similar to now. At the end of the day, it’s still a question of whether you’re going to vote Republican or Democratic. There’s typically no real third-party choice. That’s how I kind of feel about this election. Like, I’m definitely going to vote for Kamala, but I’m not necessarily doing a ton of research on her, nor am I going to buy her merch or anything. I just know that it’s a situation where I definitely don’t want Trump to win.
When olds talk about a time in politics before Trump and what was “good” and “decent,” do we sound ancient?
I think maybe a little naive, because what are they really referring to? The time when the president was sleeping with Monica Lewinsky?
Do you think January 6 is one of the events where most people a generation from now will remember where they were when it happened?
Wait, January 6, like the riot, or January 6, when he became president?
The storming of the Capitol.
I actually do remember exactly where I was. I was sitting on a couch watching TV and wondering, “What is going on?” I remember it so vividly, because my dad, a Trump supporter, was even so upset about it. He’s also a police officer, and he’s, like, the No. 1 rule follower ever. I think it’s something people will remember for a long time.
When someone calls Trump dangerous, what does that mean to you, as someone who grew up during the era of Trump?
As I said before, I didn’t notice anything different about Trump in my daily life because I was so young. It’s not like I was paying taxes or anything.
I mean, I wouldn’t want to be alone in a room with him. But I don’t know if I would want to be alone with any male politician.
Are you alluding to the long list of sexual assault allegations against Trump?
Yes.
Are you familiar with any of the Trump kids? And if you are, who do you identify with the most?
I would say his granddaughter who recently spoke at the [Republican National Convention]? Because she’s around my age. Or maybe Barron? He seems more like a fly-under-the-radar type of guy. I remember there was some funny rumor about how he was on Roblox, the online gaming app, but then Melania took it away from him.
Mia, 19, California
In a few words, give me a sense of what you know about Donald Trump and how you, as a first-time voter, perceive him.
I know that he is a convicted felon and he is not a good person, right? Or at least in my opinion. He has said some very blatantly racist things; he has something of a cult following.
Growing up in the age of Trump, how did adults around you speak of the former president?
Oh, my parents were very anti-Trump. It was a lot of turning on the news and they’d say things like, “Oh dang, it’s Trump again.” There was never any praise, more concern that a real leader shouldn’t be acting this way.
I think I was too young to really understand what was so dangerous about Donald Trump.
What was your typical reaction to that discourse?Cringe?
I thought it was actually interesting, and I wanted to learn more about it. Especially because my parents would insist to me that they don’t usually react so strongly. It was a good learning experience, for sure.
What were some of your first memories of Trump’s White House?
Earliest? Well, I remember watching the election between him and Hillary. I woke up the morning Trump was elected and my dad was pissed—like, he was so angry. And I remember thinking, “Oh, this is not a good environment for us.”
When olds talk about a time in politics before Trump and what was “good” and “decent,” do we sound ancient? Naive?
It’s hard to imagine. Maybe not naive, but it does sound like a simpler, more civilized time when you didn’t have to worry about voting for a felon.
We’ve been raised to have certain ideas of what a democracy should be like, rather than, like, just voting for someone who’s not a terrible person. So it’s jarring going from that to this being our first election—and you don’t really have the option to explore the two choices.
Do you think January 6 is one of the events where most people a generation from now will remember where they were when it happened?
I was at home on the couch, and my dad turned on the TV and was like, “You have to watch this.” I definitely think it’ll be remembered years on. Even today, my friends will make jokes, “Where were you on January 6?” It’s such an iconic date.
When someone calls Trump dangerous, what did that mean to you, as someone who grew up during the era of Trump?
I think I was too young to really understand what was so dangerous about Donald Trump. I had heard and known that he was a threat to women’s rights and general equality overall. But I couldn’t have told you why.
Is there anything Trump did as president that you think was good?
I don’t think I could name a single thing. I have family in Ohio who’d say different.
Are you familiar with any of the Trump kids? And if you are, who do you identify with the most?
I’m trying to remember. He has a son, right? And the daughter is older? This is so bad. I don’t know.
Miles, 19, California
In a few words, give me a sense of what you know about Donald Trump and how you, as a first-time voter, perceive him.
I mean, Donald Trump has a reputation that speaks for itself. I view him as sort of the [former NBA player] Patrick Beverley of the political world. He always seems to butt his head in and isn’t afraid to mix it up with anyone. This alone wouldn’t be that bad, except for the fact that he doesn’t have the bite to back up the bark. Historically, he’s said some pretty wild things, but almost never fully backs them up.
Growing up in the age of Trump, how did adults around you speak of the former president?
I always heard mixed words of Trump. I mostly grew up in Livermore, which is one of the most conservative cities in the [San Francisco] Bay Area, although still not the majority. Most adults I knew spoke poorly of him, but there were always the few who were very excited when he did anything.
What was your typical reaction to that discourse?Cringe?
I never liked hearing political discussions growing up, so yes, cringe is a great way to describe my reaction to people talking about him. I never liked hearing about him or anything he did.
What were some of your first memories of Trump’s White House?
I don’t really remember much, but one thing I do remember a lot of was the online reactions and memes. It was so laughable that Trump even made it to the White House that people would make edits of him.
Did you know that Trump was impeached twice?
Yes, I did know that. He is the only president to have that happen, I believe.
“This is not normal” was a popular phrase during the 2016 election. I’m just curious: If you could choose to live in that supposedly pre-Trump era, do you think you’d want to?
If we define pre-Trump as pre-2016, then no, I would not like to live in it. Those were some pretty good years regarding music and early YouTube, but having to deal with 2008 would be pretty bad as an adult, I assume. While those years were fun, what came after has been a lot better for me and more fun.
When olds talk about a time in politics before Trump and what was “good” and “decent,” do we sound ancient? Naive?
I think they’re probably right. Today, there is a much bigger social media base in campaigns and it is so much easier to spread misinformation. Obviously, politics have always been dirty, but I feel as if it’s just gotten worse since Trump has been involved.
Do you think January 6 is one of the events where most people a generation from now will remember where they were when it happened?
Absolutely. I remember I was on a Zoom call for AP World History when I heard that news. It was just so unfathomable that something like that could even happen and is a huge historical moment in Trump’s legacy.
When someone calls Trump dangerous, what did that mean to you, as someone who grew up during the era of Trump?
As a white middle-class male, I never felt Trump was dangerous directly to me. I can’t speak for others on this matter, though; I know I’m not a group he would want to target.
Is there anything Trump did as president that you think was good?
I cannot think of anything off the top of my head that Trump did exceptionally.
Are you familiar with any of the Trump kids? And if you are, who do you identify with the most?
I can’t even name any of his kids off the top of my head.
The fantasy of a Taylor Swift endorsement is finally a reality—for Kamala Harris.
Shortly after the first presidential debate between the vice president and former President Donald Trump on Tuesday, the pop superstar made her support for Harris official on Instagram. Swift posted a photo from her Time magazine shoot featuring one of her cats, Benjamin Button—a clear dig at the “childless cat lady” attacks from Trump’s running mate, JD Vance.
The caption, which can be read in full below, referenced Trump’s false claim that he had accepted her endorsement back in August. “It brought me to the conclusion that I need to be very transparent about my actual plans for this election as a voter,” she wrote. “The simplest way to combat misinformation is with the truth.”
“I will be casting my vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz in the 2024 Presidential Election.”
The announcement is all but certain to infuriate the former president, particularly after his disappointing debate performance against Harris.
The opening minutes of the very first question of the first presidential debate between former President Donald Trump and Vice President Kamala Harris on Tuesday saw the former president alluding to a racist lie—which has been roundly debunked by law enforcement officials—about Haitian immigrants.
“You see what’s happening with towns throughout the United States,” Trump said in response to a question regarding his plans for the economy. “You look at Springfield, Ohio. You look at Aurora in Colorado. They are taking over the towns, they’re taking over buildings, they’re going in violently. These are the people that she and Biden let into our country.”
But that was just the mere mention of “Springfield, Ohio,” now shorthand for a virulent conspiracy theory that has swiftly captured the Republican Party in recent days. Later in the debate, Trump unleashed, fully leaning into the blatant racism by repeating the vile lie that immigrants, specifically those from Haiti, in far-flung corners of the US are eating pets.
“In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs, the people that came in,” Trump said. “They’re eating the cats. They’re eating the pets of the people that live there. And this is what’s happening in this country and it’s a shame.”
The remarks, by a former president and GOP presidential candidate, are evidence of the complete and total platforming of a viral lie, as it progressed from one single Facebook comment to far-right influencers, then to prominent members of Congress, and tonight, the presidential debate stage.
"They're eating the pets," says Donald Trump, repeating a debunked claim about immigrants in Springfield, Ohio.
“There have been no credible reports or specific claims of pets being harmed, injured or abused by individuals within the immigrant community,” police said on Monday. pic.twitter.com/wYs96Aekt1
It wasn’t particularly interesting, so I shrugged and accepted ignorance. With the GOP having transformed into a party of shitposters, I assumed I was out on a joke that, with God’s grace, would pass before my job required me to learn about something either racist or stupid—or probably both.
But, shortly after, a clue arrived in the form of a meme. Ah, I realized looking at an image Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) posted on X, it would be both—racist and stupid—and I was going to have to understand it.
To start, it’s critical to note that the origins of these posts, from some of the highest levels of the US government, can seemingly be traced to a single falsehood. Here’s what happened. A participant of a random (exceedingly obscure) Facebook group that discusses local criminal activity in Springfield, Ohio, warned that a friend of their neighbor’s daughter had recently lost her cat, before describing an unfounded trend of Haitians eating cats they had found on the street. From there, a rumor started claiming that Haitian immigrants kidnapping and eating cats—a claim police have since roundly debunked—and quickly spread to the screenshots of some of the far-right’s most prominent figures, including Charlie Kirk, before landing in Elon Musk’s universe. (How no one stopped to question whether to believe a random Facebook post from the girlfriend-in-Canada telephone lineage of “neighbor’s daughter’s friend” is beyond my understanding.)
From there, it was JD Vance, the most embarrassingly online vice presidential candidate in history—with his long record of vilifying Haitian immigrants in his home state—who proved to be the accelerant in mainstreaming the lie within the GOP:
Months ago, I raised the issue of Haitian illegal immigrants draining social services and generally causing chaos all over Springfield, Ohio.
Reports now show that people have had their pets abducted and eaten by people who shouldn't be in this country. Where is our border czar? pic.twitter.com/rf0EDIeI5i
Now, it’s wholly unsurprising to see Donald Trump’s running mate seizing upon a racist lie; such behavior is effectively a requirement of Trump’s White House. But even after years of Republican fealty, the party’s gleeful embrace of it is something to behold. Do they truly believe that Haitian immigrants are roaming the streets in search of cats to eat? Of course they don’t. But this is what happens when a party funnels its ambitions into blatant racism.
It’s worth revisiting an old piece from my colleague Tim Murphy, on how the modern GOP has moved far past the dog whistle to pure racism:
Our politicians aren’t dog-whistling racism to win racist votes in a calculated game. They’re just racist. And realizing that is for the best. After all, the euphemisms politicians use are never just euphemisms. When racist white people talk about “the schools” or “the neighborhood,” those aren’t stand-ins for something deeper and more nefarious: Those are the deeper and more nefarious things, the load-bearing pillars of structural racism. This speech isn’t coded so much as it’s loaded.
It wasn’t particularly interesting, so I shrugged and accepted ignorance. With the GOP having transformed into a party of shitposters, I assumed I was out on a joke that, with God’s grace, would pass before my job required me to learn about something either racist or stupid—or probably both.
But, shortly after, a clue arrived in the form of a meme. Ah, I realized looking at an image Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) posted on X, it would be both—racist and stupid—and I was going to have to understand it.
To start, it’s critical to note that the origins of these posts, from some of the highest levels of the US government, can seemingly be traced to a single falsehood. Here’s what happened. A participant of a random (exceedingly obscure) Facebook group that discusses local criminal activity in Springfield, Ohio, warned that a friend of their neighbor’s daughter had recently lost her cat, before describing an unfounded trend of Haitians eating cats they had found on the street. From there, a rumor started claiming that Haitian immigrants kidnapping and eating cats—a claim police have since roundly debunked—and quickly spread to the screenshots of some of the far-right’s most prominent figures, including Charlie Kirk, before landing in Elon Musk’s universe. (How no one stopped to question whether to believe a random Facebook post from the girlfriend-in-Canada telephone lineage of “neighbor’s daughter’s friend” is beyond my understanding.)
From there, it was JD Vance, the most embarrassingly online vice presidential candidate in history—with his long record of vilifying Haitian immigrants in his home state—who proved to be the accelerant in mainstreaming the lie within the GOP:
Months ago, I raised the issue of Haitian illegal immigrants draining social services and generally causing chaos all over Springfield, Ohio.
Reports now show that people have had their pets abducted and eaten by people who shouldn't be in this country. Where is our border czar? pic.twitter.com/rf0EDIeI5i
Now, it’s wholly unsurprising to see Donald Trump’s running mate seizing upon a racist lie; such behavior is effectively a requirement of Trump’s White House. But even after years of Republican fealty, the party’s gleeful embrace of it is something to behold. Do they truly believe that Haitian immigrants are roaming the streets in search of cats to eat? Of course they don’t. But this is what happens when a party funnels its ambitions into blatant racism.
It’s worth revisiting an old piece from my colleague Tim Murphy, on how the modern GOP has moved far past the dog whistle to pure racism:
Our politicians aren’t dog-whistling racism to win racist votes in a calculated game. They’re just racist. And realizing that is for the best. After all, the euphemisms politicians use are never just euphemisms. When racist white people talk about “the schools” or “the neighborhood,” those aren’t stand-ins for something deeper and more nefarious: Those are the deeper and more nefarious things, the load-bearing pillars of structural racism. This speech isn’t coded so much as it’s loaded.
Conservative oppositionto social safety nets is nothing new. But, as daycare costs continue to soar and the US Surgeon General warns that parents are dangerously overwhelmed, lawmakers on both sides of the aisle appear to agree that at least something needs to be done to help address the crisis.
Yet when faced with a simple question on the issue this week, Donald Trump and JD Vance stumbled profoundly, prompting many to wonder whether the Republican ticket had even bothered to think about child care affordability—again, one of the most acute problems facing the US economy—at all.
Just take a look. Here was Trump at the Economic Club of New York on Thursday, rambling through an incomprehensible, half-baked theory that foreign tariffs will solve the problem, easy-peasy—all while dodging the question of specific pieces of legislation he’d push to help make child care more affordable. Meanwhile, economists widely agree that sweeping tariffs would severely hurt world trade.
Vance managed to fare somewhat better the day before, at least acknowledging real pain points in the crisis, including requirements in some areas of the country that have made it overly burdensome to get a job as a child care worker. But as the Ohio senator has oft proven to do, it was his suggestion that grandparents pitch in that, once again, gave the impression of being wildly out of touch.
“One of the ways that you might be able to relieve a little bit of pressure on people who are paying so much for daycare is to make it so that grandma or grandpa wants to help out a little bit more,” Vance said at a Turning Point Action event in Mesa, Arizona, on Wednesday. “Or maybe there’s an aunt or uncle that wants to help out a little bit more. If that happens, you relieve some of the pressure on all the resources that we’re spending in daycare.”
The remarks build upon Vance’s recent assertion that the “whole purpose of the postmenopausal female” is to help raise young kids. (Those comments also saw Vance agreeing with an interviewer that an “unadvertised” benefit of marrying into an Indian family was the free labor of grandparents.)
The incoherent responses come amid the Harris-Walz campaign’s efforts to demonstrate how Trump’s return to the White House could hurt American families. But this week, it seemed that all Trump and Vance had to do was open their mouths.
Conservative oppositionto social safety nets is nothing new. But, as daycare costs continue to soar and the US Surgeon General warns that parents are dangerously overwhelmed, lawmakers on both sides of the aisle appear to agree that at least something needs to be done to help address the crisis.
Yet when faced with a simple question on the issue this week, Donald Trump and JD Vance stumbled profoundly, prompting many to wonder whether the Republican ticket had even bothered to think about child care affordability—again, one of the most acute problems facing the US economy—at all.
Just take a look. Here was Trump at the Economic Club of New York on Thursday, rambling through an incomprehensible, half-baked theory that foreign tariffs will solve the problem, easy-peasy—all while dodging the question of specific pieces of legislation he’d push to help make child care more affordable. Meanwhile, economists widely agree that sweeping tariffs would severely hurt world trade.
Vance managed to fare somewhat better the day before, at least acknowledging real pain points in the crisis, including requirements in some areas of the country that have made it overly burdensome to get a job as a child care worker. But as the Ohio senator has oft proven to do, it was his suggestion that grandparents pitch in that, once again, gave the impression of being wildly out of touch.
“One of the ways that you might be able to relieve a little bit of pressure on people who are paying so much for daycare is to make it so that grandma or grandpa wants to help out a little bit more,” Vance said at a Turning Point Action event in Mesa, Arizona, on Wednesday. “Or maybe there’s an aunt or uncle that wants to help out a little bit more. If that happens, you relieve some of the pressure on all the resources that we’re spending in daycare.”
The remarks build upon Vance’s recent assertion that the “whole purpose of the postmenopausal female” is to help raise young kids. (Those comments also saw Vance agreeing with an interviewer that an “unadvertised” benefit of marrying into an Indian family was the free labor of grandparents.)
The incoherent responses come amid the Harris-Walz campaign’s efforts to demonstrate how Trump’s return to the White House could hurt American families. But this week, it seemed that all Trump and Vance had to do was open their mouths.
Former PresidentDonald Trump’s appearance at the National Association of Black Journalists’ annual convention on Wednesday shocked audience members within its opening minutes, as the GOP presidential nominee insulted the moderators—three Black women—claiming their opening question was asked in a “horrible manner.” “You don’t even say, hello, how are you?” Trump said, taking clear offense to a question about his record of denigrating Black people.
And then, it only got worse.
“Are you with ABC?” Trump continued. “Because I think they’re a fake news network, a terrible network, and I think it’s disgraceful that I came here in good spirit.”
The tense exchange instantly set the tone of the question-and-answer session that featured Trump attacking Vice President Kamala Harris with racist characterizations. “I didn’t know she was Black until a number of years ago when she happened to turn Black and now she wants to be known as Black,” Trump said.
At one point, Trump, while insisting that he, as president, had “done so much for the Black community,” attacked the interviewers as “nasty” and a “disgrace.”
The remarks prompted repeated gasps from the audience, as the interviewers—Semafor’s Kadia Goba, ABC News’ Rachel Scott, and Fox News’ Harris Faulkner—continued asking the former president about pardoning Jan. 6 rioters. “If they’re innocent, I would pardon them,” he said. He did this while also claiming that Harris should take a cognitive test because she failed the bar exam. (Harris eventually passed and was admitted to the California bar in 1990.)
Trump also said: “A black job is anybody that has a job,” he said. “That’s what it is.” Again, the crowd gasped.
The announcement on Monday that Trump would appear at the convention sparked intense backlash, with some Black journalists arguing that the former president should not be invited over his long record of attacking Black women journalists.
Bobby Henry, chair of the National Newspaper Publishers Association, which represents more than 240 Black-owned newspapers, said before the event he opposed Trump’s appearance at the event because it “undermines the NABJ’s values of inclusion and solidarity and risks normalizing his damaging behavior.”
NABJ sought to quell the criticism, claiming that the interviewers would prepare questions about “the most pressing issues facing the Black community.” The NABJ added that Trump’s appearance did not amount to the group’s endorsement.
The NABJ is working on scheduling a similar discussion with Harris for September.
Could more money fix your life? I’m talking about obscene levels of wealth—the real fuck you money that affords seemingly endless advantages. Or is one’s proximity to capital actually a curse? The closer you are to it, the more it pains and threatens.
As a non-rich person with zero prospect of receiving generational wealth, the answer seems obvious: I could spit out a long list of reasons why extra cash eases the mind. But ask the Fletchers, the family at the center of Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s new novel, Long Island Compromise, and they’re likely to insist that their fortune is a ruinous “dybbuk” at the root of the family’s relentless traumas. It’s an attitude that prompts righteous scorn, with Brodesser-Akner using the Fletchers to lament everything from the erosion of the middle class torampant plastic surgery.
But Long Island Compromise is much more than a darkly humorous satire of the uberwealthy (though it is that, and deliciously so). The novel succeeds best when its protagonists grapple with the more universal, the hard stuff that even we plebs can relate to: Can one ever really escape their family? What if I can’t control what happens next?
Such questions loomed over me as Brodesser-Akner’s novel takes us through the stories of the Fletcher kids—Bernard (or Beamer), Nathan, and Jenny—three siblings bordering on early middle age. Each of them is a disaster, with various reasons to trace the blame for their screwed-up lives to their family’s extreme wealth and father’s misfortunes. Schadenfreude arrives many times. But my favorite moments always found me returning to those questions, refracting the Fletchers’ saga against my own messy corners, family trauma, and all that pathos-inducing stuff we relegate to therapy.
I caught up with Brodesser-Akner, coincidentally as she was driving on the Long Island Expressway on the final day of her book tour. What transpired was a generous conversation that spanned everything from shared trauma to Jimmy Buffett to the plague of private equity—and ended up landing on the joys of bearing witness.
The central arc of your new book takes inspiration from the real-life kidnapping of Jack Teich, a man you’ve known personally for most of your life. What about his story felt close to the central ideas of the novel? When did you realize his story could be the basis of a novel?
The impetus for this story was not a kidnapping. I wanted to tell the story about rich kids, and I wanted to figure out two things. The first is a question I’ve always had: Are you better off being from money and never feeling afraid? Or are you better off not being from money, figuring out how to survive on your own knowing that you can, but always knowing what it feels like for the bottom to fall out? The other question I had was: Can money actually buy you security? If the same money that brought you security also puts you in enough danger that you get kidnapped, but then you’re saved by ransom, which is money, what is the lesson? Can the money buy you security or not? These were the questions that were vexing me. When you’re writing, the bench you pull from—to use a sports metaphor—is the bench of your life. I knew someone who was kidnapped and that’s the thing that kept entering the story because all writers are horrible thieves of what they’ve seen in the world. At some point, I realized that I cannot pretend that I was someone who doesn’t know somebody who was kidnapped. So I reached out to my family friend, Jack Teich, and he very generously gave me his blessing to use the kidnapping.
That was a big question for me as I read this novel. Because we tend to see money as one of the quickest paths to freedom. But the Fletcher family, according to them at least, are so trapped by it. Should we see money as a curse or protection?
The answer is—yes.
I always have this fantasy that if I had money, I would be calm and living my best life. But I also ask myself where my own ambition came from, my own ability to do the thing I do, writing, which often involves taking risks. Because when anyone writes, they are being vulnerable. And I think if you don’t need to survive, meaning if you don’t need money, it is so much easier to not do that. So I began to wonder if my relative lack of money was a blessing. Because I know a lot of wealthy people who function and are ambitious. But I know more people without money who have those skills in droves.
“Every generation deals with trauma the best way that they know how, right?”
Oh, that makes me feel a lot better about life. Not that I have talent but hearing that is comforting.
I don’t even know if talent is real! Talent is not a thing I can quantify. What I keep wondering about lately is if talent is real—or is there a combination of willingness and humility that will get you the same results? I don’t like terms like “talent” the same way I don’t like terms like “inspiration” because they take out of your hands the ability to do the thing you need to do; they put it in someone else’s hand. And I gotta tell you, I can’t rely on those things. I have bills to pay.
Same! So, I actually read this book while in the process of writing up my will, which is a new experience for me—and I hate it. I come from a super middle-class family, immigrant parents. My dad worked in a sheet metal union for 40 years. Without giving away the ending of this book, I’m wondering: Is there some backup financial plan I should include in my will?
I was once interviewing Jimmy Buffett and we were talking about money, and the money that came out of him being this character sitting on a beach, writing the song “Margaritaville,” and smoking pot. And I said to him, “I am not sitting on a beach. I’m not smoking pot. I am working really, really hard. And I don’t have any money.” I had just started at the New York Times, I had success in my journalism career. And he said to me, “Do you have any children who are going to support you in your old age?” And I said, “Well, I just have these two small sons, and I don’t know what their futures will be.” He said, “No, no, I don’t mean that. I mean ‘Margaritaville’ is the child that supports me at my old age.” This was a long time ago, so I’m just paraphrasing here. That’s when I started thinking about things differently.
Back when I started this, there were a million magazines to write for. Now, freelance writers are getting 10 cents a word, if that, and they have basically no rights. It’s obscene.
What has happened is the disappearance of the middle class. It used to be in this country that you and I could be journalists. And if we’re good at it, and we work hard and we show up every day, we will get some money, and there will be something. There will be an apartment to give our kids. There will be something to write into your will. That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
I started this book, which talks about all this in particular, both to process these ideas myself and somewhat as a bid: a new aspect of my writing career that won’t make me afraid for my solvency. Now, all these questions are a matter of both risk tolerance and what an individual decides they need in the world. But we were one catastrophic illness away from ruin—and that’s what kept me up at night.
The Fletchers, the main family in your novel, are obsessed with the question of how their lives would have been different had Carl, the father, not been kidnapped. Why was that a theme that mattered to you?
I love this question. Because the book also asks the question, Who are the Fletchers without their money? One of the tricks our brains give us when we are troubled or traumatized is to indulge in the fantasy of: Who would I be if this didn’t happen to me? What would I have been like if I had money? What would you have been without the traumatic experiences?
The answer is you’ll never know that. The better answer is it doesn’t matter because that’s not one of the options.
I thought it was perfect that private equity (spoiler alert) is what destroys the Fletcher family’s main source of wealth. It comes for the middle class and even the richest of the rich. Are you trying to say that even the rich, despite all their winning, are doomed in America?
Private equity is so unstoppable that, yes, everyone is doomed. There’s always somebody richer, and when you get to the top, the richest person will be the most doomed because of how he destroyed everyone. (I was going to say he or she but who are we kidding?)
We are at the end of anybody caring about anybody but their own welfare. It’s been made clear to the working class that nobody cares about them, and the wealthy are so divorced from interacting with people who aren’t like them.
One of the book’s observations about the suburbs is that Middle Rock, the suburb that the Fletchers live in, used to be a place where people worked out of a common value that they had together, and now it would be so impossible. There were very, very wealthy people, and there were some middle-class people, and there were people on the lower end of the middle class who you might even be described as working class.
Now, you can’t even get into one of those suburbs unless you’re already extremely rich. It’s a depressing note on the economy, but it was very interesting to look at where we are—interesting and depressing to look at where we are.
I couldn’t help but wonder how things would have been different had Carl simply been allowed to talk about what happened to him. Could repression—not family wealth—be what really screwed up the Fletchers?
Every generation deals with trauma the best way that they know how, right? Carl is kidnapped before the DSM even had a post-traumatic stress diagnosis. So what I would say about the advice that Carl’s mother gives him after he’s returned from the kidnapping—“This didn’t happen to you. It happened to your body. Don’t let it in.”—is that she was doing the best she possibly could. Because what would someone who had seen the horrors of the Holocaust say? There were things that that generation had seen that were so horrific, there was no way to make sense of them. You just have to put them away. I grew up with Holocaust survivors who did not see the sense in talking about it. They didn’t see the sense in trying to understand; they only made sense of moving forward. By the time you get to the generation of the kids in the book, we have a better understanding, although a cynical one, of the way trauma works.
While I’ve been on this book tour, people have been asking a lot of questions about trauma. Some people, and they’re mostly my age, have asked what to do about young people they say overuse the word “trauma.” And I think that’s wrong. It’s really wrong to be dismissive of a younger generation, because those people have access, not just to all of our information but to seeing how we turned out, and they make different decisions based on what they see. And historically, this bears out, over and over.
We are all absolutely trying our best. Every single person I know is trying their best, but every person in this book is also trying their best. I think a certain amount of grace comes when everybody can look around and see that.
“In the end, when you live long enough to stop fighting where you’re from and you are just grateful that there have been other people to bear witness …There is no better solace for what you’ve been through than that.”
Both your first novel (Fleishman Is in Trouble) and Long Island Compromise appear to be occupied by the trauma of a missing parent, both in the kidnapping sense, and when parents are in the throes of depression, losing their sense of time and space to the point that their whereabouts are unknown. Do you feel like that is the theme you’ll keep coming back to in your writing?
That’s a great observation, and it’s a great question because I’ll tell you that I had no idea I was doing that. One of the most wonderful things about writing a book is that you think you know your writing, and then you hand in the book, and the machine begins. The marketing department starts writing descriptions, publicists start writing announcements. When you read those, that’s when you find out in a big way the things you wrote that you didn’t know that you were writing. I’m very interested in that.
The greatest thing about a book tour is that, at every stop, there’s someone there who tells me what my book is about. And number one, they were all right. Number two, I had no idea. And number three, what a joy, because books, once you write one, the minute it’s out there, it’s open for interpretation. It is not yours anymore. It’s someone else’s story to metabolize.
The unexpected joy of my life is to find out what I conveyed to them. [When I started writing Long Island Compromise] I thought I was writing about money. At the end, I was like, “Oh, this has a lot about trauma in it.” And the thing I sort of didn’t know until the end was that it would also have so much about what it means to be in a family. I thought that I was conveying, hopefully conveying accurately, what it’s like to be in a family. But actually, in the end, when you live long enough to stop fighting where you’re from and you are just grateful that there have been other people to bear witness with you as to what you’ve been through. There is no better solace for what you’ve been through than that.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
“I revere this office, but I love my country more.”
The line was perhaps the defining takeaway of President Joe Biden’s Thursday night address to the nation, his first since announcing his decision to drop out of the presidential race. Even though the president had the personal ambition to run again, he understood, with piercing clarity, that the White House carried stakes that transcended his burning conviction that he could win in the November presidential election.
“It’s been the honor of my life to serve as your president,” he said from the Oval Office, “but defending democracy, which is at stake, I think it’s more important than any title.”
“I’ve decided the best way forward is to pass the torch to a new generation.”
The remarks, heartfelt and unifying in tone, appeared to succinctly punctuate a decades-long career devoted to public office. Biden continued by praising Vice President Kamala Harris, whom he had endorsed to replace him on the presidential ticket, calling Harris “tough” and “an incredible partner.” He also framed Harris as deeply consequential to maintaining US democracy.
“We have to decide: do we still believe in honesty, decency, respect, freedom, justice, and democracy? In this moment, can we see those we disagree with not as enemies but as fellow Americans? Can we do that? Does character in public life still matter?”
The prime-time address offered a sharp contrast from the dark and menacing message Donald Trump and his allies, including his running mate JD Vance, have offered to American voters over the last week—even with Trump’s brief attempt to appear to be a more unifying character since his assassination attempt.
“The great thing about America is here, kings and dictators do not rule; the people do,” Biden said on Wednesday. “History is in your hands. The power is in your hands. The idea of America lies in your hands. We just have to keep the faith and remember who we are.”
President Biden on X announced that he is ending his reelection bid, bowing to immense pressure to step aside following his disastrous debate performance late last month that led to near-constant questioning of his physical ability to campaign and mounting skepticism of his ability to defeat former President Donald Trump as polls worsened.
In a post on X, he said he would address the nation later this week.
In a separate post, Biden endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris as the nominee.
My fellow Democrats, I have decided not to accept the nomination and to focus all my energies on my duties as President for the remainder of my term. My very first decision as the party nominee in 2020 was to pick Kamala Harris as my Vice President. And it’s been the best… pic.twitter.com/x8DnvuImJV
The stunning decision immediately upends an already chaotic race in an election year many see as pivotal for American democracy. Though Biden’s campaign had emphasized that the president was still committed to remaining the party’s nominee despite his critics, scrambled efforts to reassure the party ultimately failed to resuscitate his bid. Donors fled and Democrats, including some of Biden’s most prominent allies, went public with their alarm. Polls showed increasing, widespread concern over Biden’s mental fitness. The assassination attempt on Trump appeared to deepen the contrast between Trump, defiant with a raised fist immediately after the shooting, and Biden.
Biden’s decision to withdraw ends nearly 50 years of public service that included a nearly four-decade tenure as a senator from Delaware and vice president to Barack Obama. As president, Biden successfully passed several monumental laws including the Inflation Reduction Act. His leadership is widely credited with steering the US through the end of the pandemic as well as stabilizing the country after January 6. But in addition to the issue of his age, foreign conflicts have dragged down Biden’s reputation, particularly as he stood steadfast in his support for Israel’s military operation in Gaza. For now, it is hard not to think of that mumbled line as he stared out dazed from the debate stage: “Look, if we finally beat Medicare...” But his legacy will be remembered far beyond it.
This is a developing story. Check back for updates.
In 2004, PeterThiel invested $500,000 in Facebook, money that quickly gave way to an unthinkable fortune for the right-wing billionaire. But it turns out that it was Thiel’s donation to Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign—and his willingness to speak in support of Trump at the Republican National Convention at the time—that has produced perhaps the biggest dividends, transforming him into a genuine oligarch of American politics.
Now, you won’t hear about this in such explicit terms when Trump officially accepts the Republican presidential nomination. But Hulk Hogan’s unexpected appearance on Thursday, shortly before Trump takes the stage, makes the message unmissable. In fact, Hogan’s appearance, which would make him the third Thiel acolyte to be on stage at the RNC this week, is an effective middle finger to critics.
To understand this dynamic, one must reach back to a 2007 online article headlined, “Peter Thiel is totally gay, people.” The piece, published by Gawker Media, had outed the billionaire Palantir-founder and prompted a series of similar articles about Thiel’s private life. To most people, that may have seemed like the end of it. But then in 2012, Gawker published a sex tape featuring Hogan; $10 million in legal help from Thiel later, Gawker was dead—the right-wing billionaire’s retribution was complete.
It was around this time that Thiel was delivering a speech at Yale Law School, where a bright-eyed J.D. Vance watched with apparent amazement. The encounter led to a job at Thiel’s investment firm. Later, even before Vance announced his campaign for Senate in Ohio, Thiel gave $10 million to a super PAC backing Vance’s bid. As my colleague Noah Lanard reported back in 2022, that early investment into Vance’s political career—coupled with his critical role in helping Vance, a former never-Trumper, smooth out his relationship with Trump—proved successful.
Fast forward to 2024, and Vance, the illiberal, deeply anti-abortion, right-wing author of Hillbilly Elegy could be in the White House—ensuring that MAGA politics will long outlast Donald Trump.
But it would be misguided to see all of this as personal enrichment. As Thiel told the Times after effectively bankrupting Gawker: “It’s less about revenge and more about specific deterrence. I saw Gawker pioneer a unique and incredibly damaging way of getting attention by bullying people even when there was no connection with the public interest.”
The same is likely true for Thiel’s political ambitions. He doesn’t see his fight as a means for personal benefit. For a man who has publicly said that he doesn’t believe that freedom and democracy are compatible, Vance, Trump, and Hogan are vehicles of his ideological ambitions. And when you invest early like Thiel did with Vance, you can receive unthinkable rewards.
In 2004, PeterThiel invested $500,000 in Facebook, money that quickly gave way to an unthinkable fortune for the right-wing billionaire. But it turns out that it was Thiel’s donation to Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign—and his willingness to speak in support of Trump at the Republican National Convention at the time—that has produced perhaps the biggest dividends, transforming him into a genuine oligarch of American politics.
Now, you won’t hear about this in such explicit terms when Trump officially accepts the Republican presidential nomination. But Hulk Hogan’s unexpected appearance on Thursday, shortly before Trump takes the stage, makes the message unmissable. In fact, Hogan’s appearance, which would make him the third Thiel acolyte to be on stage at the RNC this week, is an effective middle finger to critics.
To understand this dynamic, one must reach back to a 2007 online article headlined, “Peter Thiel is totally gay, people.” The piece, published by Gawker Media, had outed the billionaire Palantir-founder and prompted a series of similar articles about Thiel’s private life. To most people, that may have seemed like the end of it. But then in 2012, Gawker published a sex tape featuring Hogan; $10 million in legal help from Thiel later, Gawker was dead—the right-wing billionaire’s retribution was complete.
It was around this time that Thiel was delivering a speech at Yale Law School, where a bright-eyed J.D. Vance watched with apparent amazement. The encounter led to a job at Thiel’s investment firm. Later, even before Vance announced his campaign for Senate in Ohio, Thiel gave $10 million to a super PAC backing Vance’s bid. As my colleague Noah Lanard reported back in 2022, that early investment into Vance’s political career—coupled with his critical role in helping Vance, a former never-Trumper, smooth out his relationship with Trump—proved successful.
Fast forward to 2024, and Vance, the illiberal, deeply anti-abortion, right-wing author of Hillbilly Elegy could be in the White House—ensuring that MAGA politics will long outlast Donald Trump.
But it would be misguided to see all of this as personal enrichment. As Thiel told the Times after effectively bankrupting Gawker: “It’s less about revenge and more about specific deterrence. I saw Gawker pioneer a unique and incredibly damaging way of getting attention by bullying people even when there was no connection with the public interest.”
The same is likely true for Thiel’s political ambitions. He doesn’t see his fight as a means for personal benefit. For a man who has publicly said that he doesn’t believe that freedom and democracy are compatible, Vance, Trump, and Hogan are vehicles of his ideological ambitions. And when you invest early like Thiel did with Vance, you can receive unthinkable rewards.
Amid high anxiety and an internal rebellion over his ability to beat Donald Trump, President Joe Biden has remained defiant, even daring his skeptics to “challenge” him at the Democratic National Convention next month.
“Run against me, go ahead,” he said. “Announce for president. Challenge me at the convention.”
But it turns out that such an opportunity might not be available, suggesting that Biden’s boast wasn’t quite the confident provocation it seemed. That’s because the DNC is quietly moving forward with plans to hold a virtual roll call as early as next week, spearheaded by a committee of delegates who have been “vetted” for their loyalty to Biden, the New York Times reports. If the plan works as the DNC intends, Biden will be the party’s nominee weeks ahead of the convention, effectively silencing demands within the party for him to step aside after his dismal debate performance and growing concerns about his ability to campaign and govern.
To fear that such an effort risks inflaming tensions does not go far enough in underscoring the stunning lack of respect DNC officials seem to have for the rest of the party—and the millions of independent voters Democrats will need to defeat Trump. After all, the plan, which smacks of hubris and ego, speaks to exactly the kind of suspicions people held during the 2016 primary, that it was tilted in favor of Hillary Clinton long before voters had a chance to speak. Clinton’s loss to Trump eventually promoted some soul-searching at the DNC, as well as promises to earn back voter trust with more transparency. Now fast forward to 2024, and a scheme to quietly barrel through Biden’s nomination, even as high-profile Democrats join average voters in their calls for him to step aside, is all but certain to reopen fresh wounds. Moreover, it undercuts his own defense that he won a nomination process in a real primary.
The plan, which smacks of hubris and ego, speaks to exactly the kind of suspicions people held during the 2016 primary.
In response to the DNC’s plans, Democratic members of Congress are reportedly drafting a letter opposing them, arguing that there is “no legal justification” for an early virtual roll call.
“I think if he is our nominee, I think we lose,” Rep. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.) reportedly told donors at a private Hamptons fundraiser this weekend. “And we may very, very well lose the Senate and lose our chance to take back the House.”
Shortly after the debate, Biden seethed that “elites in the party” were attempting to drive him out of the race. That claim never made much sense. But it’s hard not to see its deep irony while a top Biden ally warns rich people, at a tony East Hamptons event, no less, of the electoral dangers of Biden’s defiance. How much trust is the DNC willing to squander at this point?
Former President Donald Trump on Monday unveiled Sen. J.D. Vance as his vice presidential running mate.
“After lengthy deliberation and thought, and considering the tremendous talents of many others,” Trump posted on Truth Social. “I have decided that the person best suited to assume the position of Vice President of the United States is Senator J.D. Vance of the Great State of Ohio.”
The announcement touted Vance’s Ivy League education as well as his memoir, Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis, which Trump said “became a Major Best Seller” and “championed the hardworking men and women of our Country.”
Long considered a front-runner for the role, Vance’s selectioncements a presidential ticket steeped in election lies. In the months leading up to Monday’s announcement, the junior senator from Ohio appeared to ramp up the divisive, MAGA-aligned rhetoric in an apparent effort to curry Trump’s favor.
“If I had been vice president,” Vance said in a February interview that seemingly criticized Mike Pence for his refusal to overturn the election, “I would have told the states, like Pennsylvania, Georgia, and so many others that we needed to have multiple slates of electors and I think the US Congress should have fought over it from there.”
Already one of the most consequential decisions of any presidential campaign, Trump’s choice for VP took on even further significance after an assassination attempt in Pennsylvania.
Vance on Saturday was one of several Republican lawmakers to blame President Biden for the shooting, The remarks prompted condemnation from Democrats, including Rep. Eric Swalwell (D-Calif.) who went on X to remind Vance that he once called Trump the “American Hitler.”
Before entering politics as one of Trump’s most vocal supporters, Vance was mostly known—and admired both among liberals and on the right—as the author of Hillbilly Elegy and prominent “never-Trumper.” But the last few years saw the Yale Law graduate quickly adopting a deeply MAGA persona that eventually won him a Senate seat. It could be argued that his politics were less a transformation than a personal realization. Whatever prompted the change, as of Monday, the altered Vance appears to have successfully turned himself into a vice presidential candidate.
This is a developing story. Check back for updates.
Federal Judge Aileen Cannon on Monday dismissed Donald Trump’s classified documents indictment, ruling that special counsel Jack Smith had been unconstitutionally appointed.
If Cannon’s stunning decision withstands appeal, it would end what had long been considered the strongest and most “airtight” case against the former president. It involved Trump’s willful retention of top-secret documents after he left the White House and his repeated refusals to return the classified records.
As my colleague Pema Levy wrote, Cannon has spent much of the past two years issuing unprecedented decisions that have shocked legal scholars, each of which has helped Trump dodge accountability.
The ex-president was lucky that Cannon got assigned this case—but he also helped make his own luck by putting her on the bench. When Trump nominated Cannon in 2020, her signature qualifications were her youth (she was 39) and membership in the conservative Federalist Society. After Trump lost the election, she was confirmed in a vote that garnered support from 12 Democrats.
Cannon specified, however, that her ruling is “confined to this proceeding” and “decides no other legal rights or claims,” meaning that, at least for now, Smith’s separate election interference case against Trump can continue to stagger on.
This is a developing story. Check back for updates.
Amid a pivotal week for Joe Biden to demonstrate why he deserves to remain the Democratic nominee, the president is reportedly seething. And why wouldn’t he be? Former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) seemed to publicly urge Biden to reconsider his defiance. George Clooney, a lifelong Democrat, joined mounting calls for him to step down with a brutal op-ed in the New York Times. And, perhaps most embarrassingly, former president Barack Obama reportedly knew of Clooney’s plan in advance and declined to object to it.
Seen from one angle, it seems as though some of the president’s most high-profile allies have turned on him. So much so that Biden apparently sees a plot. “The Biden campaign and many Democratic officials do believe that Barack Obama is quietly working behind the scenes to orchestrate this,” Joe Scarborough said on Thursday.
This isn’t a small thing. It’s a rather extraordinary allegation, supposedly from Bidenworld, aimed against the president’s most high-profile allies, that adds to what many see as Biden’s increasingly Trumpian turn, unwilling to listen to anyone who dares to check his ego. If that sounds familiar, it’s because it is. One easily imagines Trump doing the same: questioning the smallest criticism as evidence of a deep-state plot intended to destroy them.
It should come as no surprise that the right is cheering on these alleged suspicions.
Any supposed wound that Biden and his campaign may feel watching his friends come out against him is further evidence that the president sees this race on misguided, awfully narcissistic, terms.
But seen from another angle, is Biden’s hunch justified, even correct? Pelosi and Obama are, after all, highly skilled politicians who do not desire another Trump White House. Any action they might be taking amid devastating polls and alarm over the serious possibility of a Trump landslide would be a responsible, rational response. Their reported willingness to publicly suggest that Biden should be replaced only underscores that Biden, an 81-year-old surrounded by yes-men, is playing a reckless and delusional game by remaining in the race. If they criticize him too much and he doesn’t drop? Then, they helped Trump win by kneecapping the president. If they don’t criticize him and he doesn’t drop? Well, you left a bad candidate in—and helped Trump win. Any supposed wound that Biden and his campaign may feel watching his friends come out against him is further evidence that the president sees this race on misguided, awfully narcissistic, terms.
Biden has already told us this. “I’ll feel as long as I gave it my all and did the good as job as I know I could do,” Biden told George Stephanopoulos when asked how he would feel if Biden ended up losing to Trump.
It’s been more than two weeks since Biden stunned with his disastrous debate performance. In that period, poll after poll has shown mounting demand for an alternative nominee. If nothing else positive can be said of Nancy Pelosi and Barack Obama trying to get Biden to step down but not outright saying it, at least it implies they can do something our current president cannot: read the room.
Amid a make-or-break week for President Biden’s embattledpresidential campaign Speaker Emerita of the House Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) on Wednesday appeared to carefully join the chorus of top Democrats urging the president to reconsider his defiance as questions continue to swell over his fitness for office.
“It’s up to the president to decide if he is going to run,” Pelosi said during an appearance on MSNBC’s Morning Joe. “We’re all encouraging him to make that decision because time is running short.”
“I want him to do whatever he decides to do,” she added.
Biden, of course, has made clear that he has made a decision: He isn’t dropping out. Pelosi’s statement seemed to heavily hint that the president should perhaps reconsider ahead of the fast-approaching Democratic convention next month. The remarks were at once respectful of the president and yet a far cry from the support he needs in this critical moment as more Democrats publicly doubt Biden’s ability to defeat Donald Trump in the presidential election.
In the polls, Biden hasn’t been as hurt as much as expectedby his disastrous debate performance as expected. But his attempts to reassure voters, which included a lukewarm television interview, two-page letter, and on-air phone call, have failed to calm the panic among Democrats.
On Tuesday, Sen. Michael Bennet of Colorado explicitly said that the chances of Donald Trump winning the election by a landslide were looking increasingly likely.
“Donald Trump is on track I think to win this election, and maybe win it by a landslide and take with it the Senate and the House,” Bennett told CNN on Tuesday. The senator stopped short of calling on Biden to leave the race but said that exiting was something he should consider.
BREAKING: Democratic Senator Michael Bennet tells @kaitlancollins that President Biden cannot win the 2024 election.
In yet more evidence of the deep fracture among Democrats, some high-profile congressional Democrats, including Sen. Bernie Sanders and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, said that they were committed to supporting Biden.
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