The Media’s Demented Policy Illiteracy

It’s pretty rare for the Columbia Journalism Review and Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban to be dishing on the same topic. But media critics touched a nerve this week with accusations that the political press suffers from a “coherence bias,” particularly as it relates to Donald Trump: the tendency of reporters and editors to take his verbal diarrhea and transform it, through the magic of elision and omission, into statesmanship. TNR contributor Parker Molloy has an even better word for this practice: “sanewashing.”

That this discussion arose in the days leading up to the presidential debate was to the benefit of those tuning in. It likely primed the pump for some of the real-time fact-checking of those moments when Trump seemed to be completely gacked up on whoop chicken, such as his contention that Democrats support “post-birth abortions” and that immigrants in Ohio are stealing and eating pets. But if there’s an agreement to be had on sanewashing, then let it serve as a springboard for a larger and more important conversation: whether the political media’s grasp of policy is truly commensurate with its constant demand for it.

Recent attempts in the mainstream media to understand and explain wonky matters have been embarrassing failures—a dereliction that shares strands of DNA with its tendency to tidy up Trump’s constant barrage of nonsense. A prime example can be found in one of the stories that provoked the sanewashing conversation: the Associated Press’s recap of Trump’s appearance at the Economic Club of New York last week, in which he offered up several paragraphs of word salad in lieu of a discussion of child poverty. The straight story of what happened was a naggingly simple one: Trump dodged a question about child poverty in order to pivot to what he wanted to talk about—tariffs—and shoehorn in his preferred talking points. He did this less artfully than many politicians, but it would have been sufficient to simply say he did not bother to answer the question he was asked.

But the AP didn’t opt for the straight story, and instead constructed a world rivaling George R.R. Martin. In the AP’s version of cloud-cuckoo-land, Trump explicated an innovative idea, in which the proceeds from our trade wars would facilitate bountiful childcare benefits … somehow. It’s bad enough that the AP did all this heavy lifting just to make it appear that Trump used complete English-language sentences in a speech. But considerably more effort was expended here to convert several minutes of sundowner gobbledygook into an allegedly earnest policy proposal. To get there, these reporters had to ignore a vast amount of information and experience, including knowledge of the policies that Republicans have actually supported and the informed opinions of actual experts.

The reality is that what will happen in Trump’s second term looks more like this: These tariffs get applied. American consumers pay more money for goods. The money goes into federal coffers. And the GOP passes (and Trump signs) budget packages that include massive tax cuts for billionaires and corporations, alongside massive cuts to funding for social services.

Could that money have paid for childcare? Sure! It could have gone to baking the world’s largest funnel cake! But in our actual reality, the GOP is adamantly, philosophically opposed to providing government assistance to the people who need relief the most, thus rendering meaningless whatever benefits Trump thinks all of his alleged “big numbers” might provide. This kind of forthright, accurate analysis was available had anyone at the AP understood tariffs at the same level of intellectual heft as the Twitter menswear guy.

This is only the latest example of the vast delta in the political press between acquiring policy information and understanding that information. The signature policy goal of the next Trump administration, to hear reporters tell it, is the facilitation of a massive deportation plan that would evict tens of millions of people from the country. One question that could be asked here (because it’s the first question put to any Democratic policy proposal) would be, “How will you pay for it?” Literally where does the funding to spin up this effort come from? How do you plan to get the United States out of the deep recession that would occur as a result of this population extraction? (If Trump’s answer is, “I’m doing tariffs,” maybe remind him that those proceeds were already earmarked to fix child poverty.)

So it was very weird when—with all these unasked urgent questions—a recent New York Times story portrayed his nigh-on unworkable plan as a linchpin in a proposal to ameliorate the affordable housing crisis: “Harris and Trump both have plans to address America’s affordable housing crisis,” the story originally read. “Hers include tax cuts and a benefit for first-time buyers, and his include deportations and lower interest rates.” (The story was later stealth-edited to massage these sentences out of existence.)

The original contention of the piece was to portray economists as equally skeptical of both candidates’ housing proposals. But here, the entire idea that a mass deportation plan would play a role comes bull-rushing into the discussion without warning and without any explanation of how it would work. Would low-income Americans be literally moved into the domiciles of freshly evicted immigrants? No one knows, and no one can say! (And to be honest, “economists” would probably be even more keen to find out how Trump’s plan to issue massive tax cuts for the wealthy—and the ballooning deficits that would follow—would somehow lead to lower interest rates. The Times just takes it on faith that Trump will somehow magically summon them from the economic wreckage of his grand design.)

That so much falls by the wayside in covering Trump’s policy proposals might be somewhat acceptable if this lackadaisical approach was consistently applied across the board, but this hasn’t been the case. I am sympathetic to journalists, from campaign reporters to The New Republic’s Alex Shephard, who think Kamala Harris ought to put more meat on the bone in terms of policy, but we should be at least as demanding that Trump answer the “How?” and “WTF?” questions that his ideas engender.

What’s very clearly emerged from recent weeks of campaign trail coverage is a rather glaring disparity. On one hand, we have an eminently defensible drive to get Harris to pony up more details of what she wants to do as president, and real scrutiny being paid to how much her policy preferences have shifted in the past five years. On the other hand, we have reporters dutifully filling in Trump’s blanks, excusing his psychopathic edges, and inventing weird cause-and-effect chains that purport to explain how his ideas work. I’m glad that the press is taking Trump both literally and seriously, but no one can look seriously at the literal details of his “proposals” and conclude they make any sense. To pretend otherwise is to write fiction, not journalism.

This article first appeared in Power Mad, a weekly TNR newsletter authored by deputy editor Jason Linkins. Sign up here.

Just when Donald Trump thought he had put his latest weird controversy behind him, the son of the late Senator John McCain dragged it back into the news. This week, Jimmy McCain, who followed his father into military service, announced that he was all in for Kamala Harris, going so far as to register as a Democrat for the upcoming election. The catalyzing event for McCain was a scandal that made huge news last week: the Trump campaign’s bizarre attempt at a publicity stunt at Arlington National Cemetery on August 26, which ended in an altercation between members of his campaign staff and an official at the cemetery, who attempted to enforce a rule barring cameras in one section of the grounds.

The fracas spurred a weeklong festival of potshots, recriminations, and—as with all things Trump—the specter of political violence, as the official who ran afoul of Trump’s campaign thugs was left fearful of retaliation. It was all too much for McCain fils, who referred to the Trump team’s actions as a “violation.” As true as that may be, the whole hullabaloo is also quintessential Trump—and perhaps the best example of how he will rule in a second term: as a bully, bent on pushing around, publicly maligning, and punishing those who earn their living in public service.

This is no mere supposition on my part. It’s no secret that Trump and his GOP allies plan to radically reconceive the federal workforce into an engine of personal gain and retribution. Indeed, it was a latter-day plan of Trump’s first term that never ended up coming to fruition: In October of 2020, he issued an executive order that would have recategorized a wide swath of the civil service under something called “Schedule F,” giving Trump broad leeway to apply political loyalty tests to executive branch employees and fire those who could not pass them.

Trump was unable to fully implement this design, and President Joe Biden was swift to rescind the order upon taking office. But Trump and his allies—notably the far-right weirdos of the Peter Thiel Extended Universe, which includes vice presidential hopeful J.D. Vance—dream of purging the federal government of anyone who isn’t a true MAGA believer and bringing back a souped-up spoils system that would transform the government into an engine of retribution.

Trump learned during his first term that the federal workforce was often a de facto blockade against his corrupt designs, simply because throughout its ranks are people who follow the rules. And while purging this workforce of its dedicated lifers and replacing them with cronies and trolls won’t make the civil service smarter or more efficient, it will reduce resistance to unlawful orders and create opportunities for corruption. Currently, federal employees are protected if they refuse unlawful orders. Trump wants to change that, so that the massive federal workforce might be transformed into the fist of an authoritarian president.

In particular, attorneys are a big focus of Trump’s plans, because these are the referees who tell government managers and political leaders which potential actions are either illegal or unauthorized. If these civil servants are dispensed with and replaced with flunkies, not only will there be no one left to slow a corrupt administration’s plots and schemes; the American people will lose vital advocates, sworn to uphold the Constitution. These will be replaced by revenge-minded vipers, with loyalty only to Trump, his financial interests, and his lust for revenge.

The potential for mayhem if Trump gets his way with the federal workforce is boundless. As I previously wrote:

Democrats might find their Social Security or veterans’ benefits delayed or denied. They might no longer be able to obtain passports. Emergency disaster aid might flow only to those deemed loyal to the administration. Corporations that refuse to pay tribute might be punished. Transform the civil service from an open hand to a closed fist, and things get very frightening very quickly.

With this in mind, it’s not hard to see how last week’s incident at Arlington National Cemetery might have gone down under a Trump presidency. With Biden in office, rules and norms were respected, and officials at the U.S Army had a free hand to support the woman who tried to stop Trump’s team from filming in a restricted area, saying publicly that “her professionalism was unfairly attacked.” If Trump returns to office, those same officials would be risking their livelihoods for trying to uphold the law against a Trump ally—or be promoted for letting them break the law.

Trump’s plans for the federal bureaucracy have received some mainstream attention, but they’ve not jumped into the public psyche yet, despite—or perhaps because of—the pure comic-book villainy of the scheme. But there’s a lesson for Democrats here: Harris and her allies were successful in popularizing Trump’s association with Project 2025—and his faltering attempts to distance himself from it—through a literal and figurative “billboard-size” campaign. These efforts paid off handsomely.

Can Democrats repeat this success? Trump’s plans to weaponize the government are cut from the same antisocial cloth. Its proponents fit squarely within the “weird” frame that Democrats used throughout the summer. “Schedule F” has a similarly ominous name. And most importantly, these are plans that Trump and his fellow Republicans openly discuss, and which they’ve already tried to implement once. The explosive incident at Arlington Cemetery is a fitting way to illustrate the larger malevolence of Trump’s designs and get people to recognize the same thing that Jimmy McCain saw this week—that it was disqualifying.

This article first appeared in Power Mad, a weekly TNR newsletter authored by deputy editor Jason Linkins. Sign up here.

With the party vibes at the Democratic National Convention fading, and attention turning to the ragged ten-week sprint to November, the punditocracy seems ready to declare an end to Kamala Harris’s honeymoon. Where, everyone wants to know, are her policy positions? The notion that she has none has been overstated, but this is indeed the moment where a campaign, after all the convention’s frippery, is expected to put some meat on the bone. And given that Harris has lately retreated from bold positions she once took on a range of issues, she will be “expected to … explain the differences between her 2019 primary campaign agenda and her more limited ambitions as the Democratic nominee in 2024,” as Brian Beutler notes in his Off Message newsletter.

I’m curious about this as well—and since I labor at a journal of ideas, I’d certainly prefer the next phase of the conversation to veer in the direction of policy. But if you want to know the biggest difference between 2019 and now, I would urge you to consider the dark shadow that hangs over everything: the Supreme Court’s conservative majority’s decision in Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo.

That ruling, which overturned a doctrine called “Chevron deference,” puts the future of any policy that Harris favors in grave doubt. If you want the Harris campaign to get more detailed on policy, I’m sorry to say that any conversation starts and ends with how they plan to confront a Supreme Court that has torched the separation of powers in the mad game of Calvinball they kicked off during the Trump era.

The gutting of Chevron deference is not something that the smooth-brained masses of the political media adequately understood when it came down. Chevron deference is essentially the doctrine that allows government agencies to respond nimbly to their congressional mandates; hitherto, the judiciary stayed out of the way, allowing executive branch personnel to use their expertise to interpret ambiguous regulations. Imagine, for example, the technological advancements that have occurred since landmark environmental legislation was passed decades ago. The EPA, given free rein to adapt to this changing landscape, can move more fleetly to remediate pollution thanks to Chevron. The Roberts court, instead, imagines a world where they have to return to Congress each time there is an emergency, to get specific guidance.

The best way of describing what the conservative majority did is to say it gave six unelected right-wing politicians who all enjoy a lifetime appointment a line-item veto over anything a Democratic Congress—and by extension Harris—wants to do, unless they can muster the votes to confront each problem they want to solve with an inhuman amount of hyper-specificity. As Vox’s Ian Millhiser has explained, if the executive branch “can’t regulate without getting permission from a Republican judiciary … then conservatives no longer need to worry about Democratic presidents doing much of anything that doesn’t meet the GOP’s approval.”

Judicial malefactors have already cited Loper Bright to challenge President Joe Biden’s policies and pilfer money from the pockets of ordinary people. The way this ruling potentially hamstrings the ability of the federal government to protect ordinary people from a myriad of harms means this is a Supreme Court decision that will come with a running tally of costs to taxpayers—and, most likely, a body count.

The Supreme Court really is the most critical policy issue in this election. The Trump-installed majority is central to what the right plans for a second Trump term. Beyond the fact that the Roberts court’s ruling in Trump v. United States imbues the chief executive with monarchic levels of unaccountability—a dangerous privilege for, frankly, any president to possess—Project 2025, which is best understood as a massive rollback of individual rights, is something that Republicans simply could never contemplate without their super-legislature in black robes.

Here, vaporizing Chevron has an asymmetric impact on the ambitions of the two parties. The GOP, having retreated from any part of the policy realm besides Project 2025’s infernal schemes, the furnishing of tax cuts to plutocrats, and deregulating everything under the sun (also a form of wealth transfer to plutocrats), need not worry about Chevron being in effect anymore.

But what makes Chevron crucial to this campaign is that the sledding for Democrats remains rough even if they prevail in November. Indeed, even if they blow the GOP out of the water electorally, the end of Chevron deference is a fail-safe against Democratic policy, constantly running in the background as long as five of the six conservatives on the Roberts court agree. In this way, Harris and her fellow Democrats are locked out of liberal governance. Since liberal governance will form the cornerstone of anything Harris and Democrats want to do during her time in office, a confrontation with a Supreme Court that’s holding the policymaking apparatus hostage is not a fight they can duck.

All Democrats need to join in this fight, and constantly raise the salience of the Supreme Court and its attendant corruption. It would be a good idea for any policy discussion to note that the Roberts court is the primary antagonist to making things better, easier, safer, and fairer for ordinary Americans; they are despoilers of the land and pilferers of our wealth. Harris should continually remind voters that turning things around will require a Democratic president to be on hand to appoint any replacements that may be needed, and prevent the oldest conservative justices from escaping into retirement, which would allow Trump to replace them with young members of the right’s lunatic lower-court farm system.

Is it time to revisit court-packing? I think the institutionalist case against it completely collapsed by the end of the court’s last term, but I doubt Harris has the stomach to revive the idea over the next several weeks. Nevertheless, the Supreme Court will remain the rock in the road that Democrats must find a way around if they want to improve our lives. Anything you might want an ascendant Democratic administration to do faces the judicial veto of right-wingers who can’t be voted out of office. It’s true that Harris is probably not going to deliver, or even champion, the most ambitious policies that progressives favor. But whether you’re a progressive fan of Medicare for All, or a centrist dedicated to means-tested, watered-down bullshit, you’re all in the same boat, so grab an oar.

Has Donald Trump betrayed the anti-abortion movement? It’s a hard case to make against the president who appointed the Supreme Court justices necessary to gut Roe’s protections once and for all, and who’s gone to some lengths to take a victory lap for doing little more than being the warm body who complied with the Federalist Society’s honey-do list. But this does seem to be the position of Trump’s former vice president, Mike Pence, who spent last weekend working himself into a lather over Trump’s weeks-old commentary on the matter, in which he appeared to disavow his support for a national ban on abortion.

The end product of Pence’s considerable vexation is an op-ed in The New York Times, a halting work of high dudgeon in which the former vice president meanders through eight paragraphs before eventually alighting on his complaints about his former boss. Pence says that Trump’s “recent retreat from the pro-life cause” has left him “disheartened.” “I was deeply disappointed,” he says, when the former president “stated that he considered abortion to be a states-only issue and would not sign a bill prohibiting late-term abortions after 15 weeks of pregnancy, even if it came to his desk.”

It’s hard to say who this op-ed is for. Pence doesn’t exactly command any kind of political constituency and he’s now well outside Trump’s circle of influence. And for all of Pence’s melodramatic talk of betrayal, he arrived rather late to this particular party, some weeks after Trump made the statement in question. All that said, I feel duty-bound to tell Pence to cheer up: If Trump is reelected, he will absolutely sign a national abortion ban. I’m really not sure why anyone even doubts this. Take it to the bank.

Perhaps we should go back and actually reflect upon what Trump actually said:

My view is now that we have abortion where everybody wanted it from a legal standpoint, the states will determine by vote or legislation or perhaps both, and whatever they decide must be the law of the land, in this case, the law of the state. Many states will be different. Many will have a different number of weeks, or some will have more conservative than others, and that’s what they will be.

If this is why Pence is so mad, the fault perhaps lies in his cognitive abilities, not Trump’s remarks. As Semafor’s Jordan Weissman noted, “If you actually listen to Trump’s statement on abortion, he doesn’t say ‘should’ be left to the states. He says ‘will’ be left to the [states]. It’s just a statement of what the law is. He leaves unsaid what would happen if a ban crosses his desk.”

Indeed, it wasn’t until days later that Trump actually offered any kind of political commitment, telling a reporter on the airport tarmac in Atlanta that he would not sign a national abortion ban into law. Here, I must offer a reminder that this promise isn’t worth much, as Trump is—and I can’t believe I have to explain this to Mike Pence—an inveterate liar. Even the reporting on Trump’s comment is careful to note that this represents a shift from Trump’s prior position on the matter and alludes to the former president’s possible motivation, to “to make one of his greatest political liabilities disappear.”

As I’ve written before, lies and prevarications are what you should expect from Trump and his fellow Republicans this year as they attempt to regain power in a world where the Dobbs decision has rebounded to their political detriment. It’s been well established that conservatives are planning further rollbacks to abortion rights behind the scenes, even as they endeavor to present themselves as more politically palatable to the public—an effort that involves “rebranding” the pro-life movement in an effort to obfuscate its plans.

Here, conservatives haven’t been doing anything different than what they’ve been doing for decades. Pence, in fact, is prevaricating in this very op-ed when he says, “I believe the time has come to adopt a minimum national standard restricting abortion after 15 weeks in order to end late-term abortions nationwide.” I’m not sure he actually believes this! In 2010, Pence told an Indiana anti-abortion group that “abortion should never be legal”—though he offered some concessions on saving the life of the mother. As recently as last May, Pence vowed his support for a national ban on abortion after six weeks. Perhaps Mike Pence should explain to the pro-life movement why he’s become such a squish on the issue before he tries to fillet his former boss.

If Trump is reelected, the last thing you should expect is this kind of wishy-washiness. As Susan Rinkunas recently reported for Jezebel, leaders on the right are “increasingly discussing the prospect” of using the Comstock Act to “ban abortion nationwide if he wins a second term.” The still-on-the-books law from 1875, which the Christian Right has been hoping to revive, is one of the linchpins of Project 2025, the de facto second-term playbook that the Heritage Foundation has created on Trump’s behalf—which states that “the Dobbs decision is just the beginning.”

As Rinkunas documents, the level of prevarication around the right’s out-in-the-open plan to use Comstock as a reproductive rights bulldozer is sky-high—and ably summed up by an anonymously quoted attorney who explained to The Atlantic’s Elaine Godfrey that Comstock is “obviously a political loser, so just keep your mouth shut. Say you oppose a federal [legislative] ban, and see if that works’ to get elected.” It’s not hard to see this in the subtext of Trump’s own remarks when he talks about the GOP’s “obligation to the salvation of our Nation…TO WIN ELECTIONS.” As Rinkunas notes, Trump is eyeing his own salvation from potential criminal convictions as well.

But why tell the press that you plan to lie to the press about your abortion position? Here we should consider the world-historical awfulness of American political reporting—and how badly they biffed the story when Trump made his abortion remarks. As The Present Age’s Parker Malloy reported, “NBC News, The New York Times, CNN, Axios, CBS News, NPR, ABC News, The Washington Post, The Hill, Forbes, Politico, Financial Times, the Associated Press, and The Wall Street Journal … all botched their reporting of Trump’s statement on abortion policy by inaccurately stating in headlines that he believes abortion rights should be left up to individual states to figure out.”

The media’s track record, to put it mildly, is shit! Sometimes it’s hard to know whether the political press doesn’t realize when they’re getting squid ink sprayed in their faces or if they simply look forward to being abused in that fashion.

It’s honestly hard to discern whether Pence’s op-ed isn’t meant to be more of this same dissembling. Only his near-total irrelevance to the conservative movement exculpates his involvement in their effort to paint Trump and his fellow Republicans as more moderate than they really are. Regardless, Mike Pence should calm down: He’s going to get everything he could possibly want out of a second Trump presidency—except for maybe an apology for that time Trump sent a mob to murder him. Given Pence’s voracious appetite for self-abnegation, though, maybe he doesn’t mind.

Next week marks the last week of oral arguments in this Supreme Court term, leaving little more than a sprint through the remaining decisions left unsettled. As of this writing, some heady matters remain unresolved. The ruling on the abortion pill has yet to be decided; there is a consequential gun rights case on the docket; and as always, the fate of the administrative state hangs in the balance. For many ordinary people, it will be another white-knuckle stretch, as they hope for narrow rulings that might limit the potentially life-altering—and precedent-shattering—damage.

For Democrats, the 6–3 split on the high court is a generational problem. At least, that’s how it’s often framed. In a recent post, my colleague Matt Ford stated the matter pretty starkly: “By some estimates, liberals may not have a chance to appoint a majority of Supreme Court justices until the 2050s. If Barrett stays on the court until she is the same age as Ginsburg, she will serve until at least 2059.” To think about this dilemma in these terms is to resign oneself to the idea that the solution won’t be arriving for several decades. But a lot can happen between now and 2059, and perhaps even sooner, because of another immutable law that holds that “shit happens.”

With that in mind, has anyone noticed that something seems to be up with Justice Clarence Thomas lately?

This past Monday, it was reported that Thomas was absent from the court and not participating remotely in the oral arguments of the day, with Chief Justice John Roberts assuring everyone that Thomas would get the full range of “briefs and transcripts” after the fact, ensuring that he’d be able to participate in the cases. Thomas doesn’t miss many days of work, and unlike a previous instance two years ago in which he missed a number of sessions during a hospital stay, no reason for his most recent absence was offered.

Into this blank space in the story, allow me to remind everyone that Thomas, 75, is the oldest of the justices, the longest-serving member of the court, and while I don’t doubt that Harlan Crow’s Garden of Dictators may be the venue for eldritch incantations of all varieties, there is no reason to believe that Thomas is immortal. In other words, he is still subject to the vagaries of the Universal Law of Shit Happening. (Fun fact: Samuel Alito is only a year younger than Thomas.)

It’s really no one’s fault that the comings and goings of sitting Supreme Court justices can be such a macabre business. Given the opportunity to amend the Founders’ work, I imagine that ending the whole “lifetime appointments for wizened, unaccountable elders in robes with the final say over American life” arrangement would be near the top of the list of improvements. But Democrats are probably too physiologically incapable of stating the potential stakes of the upcoming election to their voters in terms as stark as “Clarence Thomas might not be long for the bench; send Biden back to stem the tide of far-right jurisprudence.”

It’s not as if taking the high road hasn’t led anywhere: As The New Republic contributor Simon Lazarus has pointed out several times, a combination of consistent pressure and high-minded critique from liberals has, over the course of the past few terms, seemed to play a role in the justices taking a more tempered approach to their rulings. This strategy may yet bear more fruit this term, and forestall the kinds of extreme rulings that the conservative bloc’s two elder statesmen might hope to wrangle.

Still it’s weird to watch how some on the left are raising the salience of the justices’ mortality: by urging Democrats to bring Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s career to a premature end, the better to install a younger jurist now while Biden is still president. In that aforementioned article, Ford took a dim view of this way of thinking and suggested instead that Democrats might be better off simply winning elections. Regardless, this is a debate worth moving on from. It’s silly for Democrats to be divided in an election year over anything, let alone Sotomayor’s career, and anyway, no one’s run this plan to pull a late-in-the-day switcheroo past Senators Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema, whose permission is still required for such stunts.

Nevertheless, there is definitely a ruthlessness gap between the parties in this regard. Republicans have had enormous success in dispensing with the polite traditions that govern the high court’s promotions and relegations. That the GOP went to elaborate lengths to prevent Obama from appointing Merrick Garland to the bench was, during that ongoing folderol, evidence of how far they were willing to go to consolidate power. But it is also a reminder that there was once a time when the makeup of the Supreme Court wasn’t in their favor and they were staring down the tunnel of the same kind of generational problem that Democrats now face.

But the right has benefited from the happenstances of the Shit Happens Law, as well. The misfortuned timing of Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death created the opportunity for the 6–3 split and provided the catalyst for the Democrats’ recent agita over Sotomayor. Still, the lessons of the recent past—combined with all this recent talk of court-vacancy gamesmanship—illuminates a simple idea that Democrats should perhaps find the courage to speak aloud, regardless of the grisly implications: Elections matter, because you never know when the chance to appoint a new justice might arise. There is a clear mission at hand: Don’t let any of the court’s elder conservatives have the opportunity to make their escape through the safe harbor of a Trump presidency.

For as long as they have existed, No Labels have wanted one thing: to matter. But these self-styled centrist “problem solvers,” who’ve yet to advance anything resembling a political solution, have always faced substantial obstacles, mainly that they’re a venal gaggle of cosseted Beltway elites with no real constituency in the broader public. That they’ve been allowed to persist with their cotton-headed paeans to bipartisanship is a testament to structural problems with our political system (which is awash in money and enables too many people who care about nothing but maintaining power to come to Washington) and the commentariat (which is packed to the brim with thunderously credulous dolts).

But after more than a decade cashing checks from the biggest fools in the donor class (and some of the biggest assholes as well), No Labels’ demise finally appears imminent. The Wall Street Journal reported on Thursday that the group has abandoned its plan to field an independent third-party presidential ticket on account of the fact that no actual candidate wanted to have anything to do with the effort. That means the fear that the group might play spoiler and hand the White House to Donald Trump—which it seemed to want—is over. In a statement, No Labels founder Nancy Jacobson said the organization “would remain engaged in promoting unity and giving voice to America’s commonsense majority.” Here’s a thought: Quit instead.

This has been a stupendously silly journey. A month ago, after prevaricating for the better part of a year, No Labels announced that they were moving “forward with the process of forming a presidential ticket to run in the 2024 election,” which everyone thought they had already been doing all this time. And yet, it made headlines. Give these terminally inside-the-Beltway toffs some credit: You can’t become a Washington lifer without mastering the art of making news out of nothing at all. If you can successfully pass activity off as achievement in This Town, more often than not the gravy train will keep on running.

But behind the scenes, matters were considerably more grim. In leaked audio that TNR’s Greg Sargent obtained, it became clear that the organization had “no idea whether it will be able to move forward” with its electoral ambitions. “No serious candidates appear interested,” Sargent reported at the time, “and there’s no sign that this is changing.” A month on, matters had not improved. In mid-March, Geoff Duncan became the latest in a long list of candidates—including GOP primary also-ran Nikki Haley, West Virginia filibuster fanboy Joe Manchin, and former Maryland Governor Larry Hogan—to decline to be the organization’s sacrificial lamb, ending any or all opportunities to finally answer the question: “Who is Geoff Duncan?” (He is apparently the former lieutenant governor of Georgia, but I invite you to double-check.)

Meanwhile, the group was considerably hampered by the recent death of founding chairman Joe Lieberman, whose stalwart defense of the organization was fully in keeping with the former Connecticut senator’s quarter-century-long conniption fit. As the Associated Press reported, Lieberman’s passing “not only mark[ed] an irreplaceable loss for No Labels, it inject[ed] a new level of uncertainty into the organization’s 2024 ambitions.” According to the AP, Mitt Romney, Chris Christie, and Brian Kemp had also turned down the chance to be the organization’s presidential candidate. So many people have rejected this group’s advances that I honestly have a hard time keeping track. (Did you turn down the chance to be the No Labels presidential candidate? Let me know!)

In an effort to prove that there is no way of taking No Labels seriously, Politico’s Alexander Burns offered some last-ditch the tongue-in-cheek advice that the organization should enlist some entertainer or outside-the-Beltway “provocateur” to be its standard-bearer instead of the “bloodless and gray” career dweebs it’s approached. As former Jesse Ventura strategist Bill Hillsman told Burns, No Labels’ efforts were “misconstrued from the beginning,” arguing that “few voters” would be inclined to see “a unity ticket forged from within the political establishment as an answer for their grievances with the system.”

I can’t stress enough that an organization led by Lieberman and Beltway donor doyenne Jacobson is physiologically incapable of imagining an outsider in its ranks. Perhaps that’s why a former Bush administration official recommended in a Hill op-ed that the group go ahead and put Lieberman on the ticket, even though he’s dead. (Come to think of it, a Weekend at Bernie’s presidency would be preferable to a second Trump term.)

At any rate, I have a better idea: No Labels should fold. This organization has a sad and decrepit legacy of timidity and corruption, and as Meredith Shiner reported in 2014, it isn’t even sincere in its core beliefs: Internal documents revealed that its leadership was “banking on more political dysfunction in an attempt to find ‘opportunity’ and relevance for itself.” And let’s face it: The day the organization handed Trump its “problem solver” endorsement during the 2016 presidential primaries should have marked the end of taking it seriously.

Alas, two presidential cycles later, these lowlifes’ grift persists. But now that their “unity ticket” plan to doom the republic has come to naught, all of the people who’ve hitherto been fleeced by them, financially or ideologically, should wise up and pull the plug. The rest of us can only be grateful that No Labels’ last hurrah—much like all of their grand designs—foundered without bringing ruin to us all. Still, it’s a searing indictment of the United States that people with such bad ideas can ascend to such great heights that they could help trigger our democracy’s demise.

This article was adapted from Power Mad, a weekly TNR newsletter authored by deputy editor Jason Linkins. Sign up here.

Last August, TNR’s Matt Ford took a look a year ahead, saw that former President Donald Trump would be competing in a Republican primary while serving as a semiprofessional defendant in no less than four trials, and declared that it was destined to “get pretty weird along the way.” A healthy dose of weirdness has, truly, been delivered. Trump now owes something in the vicinity of $500 million in legal fines, bringing us closer to the answer of an age-old question: “Does Donald Trump have $500 million?” The certainty of this burden, and the evident frustrations of the former president as he seeks out a sucker to take his bond, have stuck him in the teeth of a pay-up-or-shut-up deadline, one that may well unmoor him. I don’t think Trump minds being thought of as corrupt even one bit—but he hates being thought of as broke.

But to liberals’ considerable consternation, Trump is in a strong position both electorally and legally. While he owes E. Jean Carroll and the state of New York some mountains of money, he’s catching a lot of breaks elsewhere in the legal system, notably in the form of procedural delays that threaten to push his various criminal trials much later in the year and potentially past Election Day. For those who have been eyeing polls suggesting that President Joe Biden would benefit if Trump caught a conviction, each delay has been greeted as a damaging wound to Democrats’ hopes. But there may be an upside: Democrats will stop waiting for someone else to save them.

The Trump era revealed a certain myopia among Democratic elites, who reacted to Trump’s election as if it were an aberration, a foreign object injected into the bloodstream of the body politic—one that our democracy’s immune system would surely recognize and destroy quickly. And so liberals yassified Robert Mueller without regard for how difficult the task of convicting a sitting president of crimes truly was. They threw their back into impeachment proceedings without regard for the fact that Republican senators do, in fact, exist. Now, I fear, too many have put their hopes on Jack Smith—the dark, gritty Robert Mueller reboot who will finally finish the job. 

But with the Supreme Court’s decision to take up Trump’s presidential immunity case—and back-burnering it until April—it’s an open question as to when Smith will even get started on his January 6 insurrection case. Most observers believe there is no way to wrap things up by November. So be it. There is no deus ex machina coming to save Democrats, no miracle cure for Trump. But rather than lapse into another long sorrow session, Democrats should be glad to be unburdened of the colossal expectations that the judicial system would save them, and get up off the fainting couch to mount the nimble and powerful campaign that our democracy deserves. 

It begins with an attitude adjustment: Instead of being despondent that Trump can’t be convicted by Election Day, be damned glad that he won’t be acquitted before America casts its votes. Because Trump getting off scot-free was always a possible outcome. What was the plan, exactly, if those hoped-for judicial punishments ended up being a series of exonerations for Trump to crow about?

The good news is that Democrats don’t actually need courts to hand down a bunch of verdicts to make hay out of Trump’s legal woes. Everything that Trump is standing trial for remains a live issue, and in the absence of breaking news stories about the latest courtroom blowup or legal setback, Democrats have a free hand to feed the media beast with derogatory information related to these trials (the insurrection, the attempted Georgia election coup, his rampant fraud, the stolen documents), as well as other scandals (the foreign money he’s pocketed, his role in Roe’s demise, his plans to transform the civil service into an instrument of personal retribution). 

As Brian Beutler notes in a recent edition of Off Message, there are plenty of creative ways “for Democrats to draw attention to Trump’s corruption even if he’s able to delay official legal proceedings.” They just need to break with some old habits:

Democrats put serene faith in the power of paid advertising to convey information like this, so much so that they devote almost no strategic thought into generating free media around these disqualifying liabilities. Meanwhile, everything Trump’s doing can be viewed as an effort to dodge the free-media penalty of being a criminal, a rapist, and a fraud. 

Democrats really can’t afford to lapse into thinking that the media, the scales finally loosed from its eyes, will eventually notice the merits of their case and come out in support of it. They have to recognize that the political press prefers to be met on the proverbial low road, and get over the crass implications of participating in a politics that’s less high-minded.  

Into the vacant space left by delayed trial proceedings, Democrats need to tell the story of how Trump came to be so entangled in the first place, reminding people that this man paid hush money to an adult film star with whom he was having an affair, illegally took classified documents and stored them at Mar-a-Lago as if they were spare toilet paper (then lied about it and obstructed justice), also lied about his net worth to defraud others of countless millions, led a “criminal racketeering enterprise” to overturn the 2020 election result in Georgia, and of course directed a mob of thousands to attack the Capitol. 

And above all, they must remind voters that Trump is seeking the presidency precisely because he wants to dodge responsibility for all of these crimes. This is the bumper sticker: Joe Biden is running for office; Donald Trump is running from the law.

This article first appeared in Power Mad, a weekly TNR newsletter authored by deputy editor Jason Linkins. Sign up here.

Our little experiment in multiracial democracy rarely leaves an encounter with the Supreme Court unscathed, but Monday’s 9–0 decision in Trump v. Anderson—in which the justices ruled that Colorado could not keep Donald Trump off the ballot—has left a deeper wound than most. As The New Republic’s Matt Ford explained soon after the unanimous, unsigned per curiam decision was handed down, the ruling is an absolute cock-up that willfully misinterpreted the plain text of the Fourteenth Amendment, seemed to misunderstand how either the Constitution or most elections in the United States work, took up questions that hadn’t been brought before the court in the first place, and found terrible ways to answer them.

The American people began the day armed with a constitutional fail-safe that provided them with the means of keeping an insurrectionist off the ballot. By noon, the court had ruled that they weren’t entitled to that tool, that it would be up to the voters themselves to decide whether an insurrectionist can hold higher office, and that their decision was subject to review and reversal in the form of a subsequent insurrection. Seems like a bad way to run a country.

As far as the legal matters in play are concerned, the ruling is, for the lack of a more polite descriptor, hot garbage—a sentiment, as Ford documented, shared by many people, including those who actually believed Trump should remain on the ballot. But outside of the jurisprudential hash left steaming on the courthouse steps, there is a rather savage truth sitting there, sub rosa, in the decision: It seems the Roberts court unanimously agrees that the Republican Party is truly, and despicably, lawless.

“How could the court butcher the ruling so badly?” asked Ford. “The simplest answer appears to be fear.” Fear was especially apparent in Justice Amy Coney Barrett’s admonition of the liberal trio’s fiery concurrence. “The Court has settled a politically charged issue in the volatile season of a Presidential election,” she wrote. “Particularly in this circumstance, writings on the Court should turn the national temperature down, not up.” It’s a bit rich coming from one of the justices whose rulings, most notably on the abortion rights front, have done a great deal to elevate that “national temperature,” and sow considerable chaos along the way.

But as New Republic contributor Jess Coleman quipped, “Things definitely tend to get messy when a political party unequivocally chooses an insurrectionist as its nominee.” It’s on this precise front that the court curiously avoided taking an obvious escape hatch: disputing that Trump had, in fact, aided an insurrection. Trump’s legal team provided that off-ramp, arguing that the former president was innocent of such treachery. Still, as Ford told me, most of the constitutional arguments that Trump’s lawyers advanced in his defense “only apply if, all other things being equal, he did participate in an insurrection.” That the Supreme Court chose to try to resolve the matter along constitutional lines suggests an admission: They believe Trump to have done the very thing that the Fourteenth Amendment forbids. From there, their mission became to backfill a rationale in support of the notion that Colorado’s remedy would cause too much pandemonium if it were to be administered.

But as they put themselves to this task, the court continued to quietly snitch out the GOP for their misrule. At one point, the court warns in its unsigned opinion of an “evolving electoral map” that could “dramatically change the behavior of voters, parties, and states across the country, in different ways and at different times,” potentially leading to the nullification of the people’s will. Here, Ford said, the court was “essentially caving to threats”—chief among them the ones raised in amicus briefs from a “coalition of Republican-led states” that darkly hinted at the possibility that “some states might exclude other presidential candidates from the ballot if Trump were disqualified.”

Naturally, it’s hard to see why anyone should fear a Republican secretary of state citing the Fourteenth Amendment in an effort to remove a Democratic candidate who had participated in an insurrection. I daresay that I am 100 percent in favor of such Democrats being barred from higher office. Here, however, the justices seem to be implying that the GOP will have reckless disregard for the law, and kick off candidates who cannot be said to have contributed to the sort of crimes that the Fourteenth Amendment inveighs against.

Indeed, we can foreclose the possibility of Democrats abusing their power in this fashion. For starters, at least one Republican secretary of state, Jay Ashcroft, had already issued such a threat, the cited reason simply being that he was upset that Colorado and Maine had moved to keep Trump off the ballot. Meanwhile, there is no such behavior among Democrats: Nikki Haley, a more fearsome opponent for President Joe Biden, was left on the ballot, untroubled by Democratic secretaries of state that might have wanted to help the Democratic candidate. (Also, it wasn’t Democrats who sent amicus briefs to the court written in the spirit of “Nice democracy you’ve got here, be a shame if anything happened to it.”)

It’s understandable that the Supreme Court would be worried about a Republican Party that doubles as a criminal cartel, because we’ve seen how, in the Trump era, they have descended into that lowly state, with one of their chief exports being the fomenting of political violence. This fact happened to be on the mind of Colorado Secretary of State Jenna Griswold as she wrestled with whether or not to invoke the Fourteenth Amendment in the first place: After the Supreme Court ruling was handed down, Griswold gave an interview on cable news where she lamented how the insurrection to which she was trying to respond hasn’t actually ended, as threats to her state election officials keep pouring in.

“We have had 38 percent of our county clerks step down since 2020,” Griswold said. “We can’t allow people who would use intimidation or threats to win that battle.” From the Supreme Court came the reply: If you don’t allow those people to win, the Republican Party might very well hurt you next.

This article first appeared in Power Mad, a weekly TNR newsletter authored by deputy editor Jason Linkins. Sign up here.

On May 3, 2022, Maine Senator Susan Collins greeted news of the leaked draft of the Dobbs decision with her trademark rue: “If this leaked draft opinion is the final decision and this reporting is accurate, it would be completely inconsistent with what Justice Gorsuch and Justice Kavanaugh said in their hearings and in our meeting in my office.” When asked for more details, Collins demurred, offering only that her statement “speaks for itself.”

What Collins said may have been literally true, in that Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh—like all Supreme Court nominees for decades now—didn’t explicitly show their hands on major, divisive legal questions during their hearings and congressional rounds. But it was also a breathtaking dodge by Collins, one that laid bare either her profound ignorance or her mendacity—and it’s worth recalling today because Collins and her ilk are once again being put on the spot over reproductive rights, this time with in vitro fertilization.

Justices Gorsuch and Kavanaugh, as everyone in Washington (including, surely, Collins) knew at the time of their respective nominations, were practically lab-grown to ascend to the Supreme Court to overturn Roe. That’s precisely why their names were provided to President Donald Trump by the conservative legal movement. Beyond that, Kavanaugh actually did make clear his intentions toward Roe—at least, to legal minds who were paying attention. He told Senator Ted Cruz that when it comes to rights that are unenumerated in the Constitution but considered implicit in the text, “all roads lead to the Glucksberg test.” He was referring to Washington v. Glucksberg, in which Chief Justice William Rehnquist held that such unenumerated rights need to be “deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition” to be considered valid.

In Glucksberg, the specific right being challenged was the right to a physician-assisted suicide. The abortion rights wrought by Roe fall into the same category. So while Kavanaugh may have been speaking in judicial code, it wasn’t that hard to penetrate. “It doesn’t take the brains of a fourth-term United States senator from Maine to figure out what this means if Kavanaugh is confirmed,” ThinkProgress’s Ian Millhiser explained at the time. “Judge Kavanaugh will be the fifth vote to kill Roe if he joins the nation’s highest Court.” As Millhiser predicted, the “Glucksberg test” was applied in precisely this fashion in the Dobbs decision.

Why rehash this history? Mainly because Collins’s prevarication two years ago is how Republicans are going to try to run the post-Dobbs gauntlet in this election year, in an attempt to evade responsibility for the terrors they have unleashed and those they have planned for the future. They will lie, and they will play dumb.

The contours of this strategy blew into wide view after the Alabama Supreme Court ruled that frozen embryos are people, throwing the future of in vitro fertilization, or IVF, in the Yellowhammer State and beyond, into doubt. Republicans in Congress rushed out statements in support of IVF, but as The New Republic’s Ellie Quinlan Houghtaling documented, their sudden interest in preserving IVF was dramatically at odds with their support for the Life at Conception Act, which “hoped to recognize fertilized eggs as children at the federal level in an attempt to ban abortions nationwide”—a measure co-sponsored by 163 Republicans in the House.

Indeed, the Alabama ruling was nothing more than a plain reading of similar laws in state law and its constitution, which enshrines fetal personhood in a similar matter. All of these various laws and legislation are the product of the same 50-year project that took down Roe, and which is straightforwardly geared toward a nationwide abortion ban.

But the contretemps raised by the ruling has amplified a schism between Republican elites who hope to choreograph a piecemeal rollback of these and other rights, and far-right firebrands outside of Washington who want to bring about this future as instantaneously as possible. As I’ve written before, this tension has led some institutional Republicans to try to “rebrand” the pro-life movement as moderate—rather than hell-bent on banning all abortions.

This “rebranding” will, in this campaign year, essentially amount to dodging and weaving. You’re going to see various GOP elites proclaiming support for exceptions and limits, but there won’t be a valid commitment to advancing any such protections. Indeed, South Carolina Republican Nancy Mace spent the week shopping for co-sponsors for a resolution that purports to support IVF, but which, as Business Insider reporter Brian Metzger notes, “doesn’t actually do anything.”* (My colleague Adrienne Varkiani greeted this news like so: “A resolution that does nothing is peak Nancy Mace.”)

But what happens in Washington matters less than what happens in the states, where, The New Republic’s Greg Sargent says, “the true implications of GOP positions on reproductive rights will be harder to evade.” After all, it’s the states where the radicals hold levers of power, and their attempts to reassure voters that they’re not actually radical is proving even more ham-handed than Beltway Republicans’: This week, Alabama Republicans put forward a bill purportedly protecting IVF, which automatically repeals itself in 2025. In other words, it secures these rights only until the election is over, after which state lawmakers can get back down to the job of taking them away again.

This election year, Republicans will lie endlessly about their abortion positions. That much is certain. The question is whether political reporters will launder Republicans’ extreme positions by accepting at face value the benign, moderate things they say about reproductive freedoms—without adding the all-important context that the GOP is part of a half-century movement dedicated to a wholesale rollback of all abortion rights. That’s how you get an Associated Press story characterizing Donald Trump as some sort of champion for IVF when, given his Supreme Court picks, he’s played the biggest role of any politician in advancing the notion that frozen embryos are people. These GOP lies should be easy to decipher and expose, but as Susan Collins knows, they tend to work like a charm.

* This article originally misidentified Mace’s state.

On a debate stage in 2019, former Department of Housing and Urban Development Secretary Julián Castro went there: suggesting that fellow presidential contender Joe Biden, who was 76 years old at the time, suffered from memory issues. “Are you forgetting what you said two minutes ago?” Castro needled. “Are you forgetting already what you said just two minutes ago?” Democratic elites were quick to swoop, lambasting Castro for his incivility. “That was a disqualifier, the way he handled it,” Rahm Emanuel said in the ABC spin room shortly afterward.

During that election cycle, Democrats seemed bent on eating their young; all but Pete Buttigieg were ground up in the gears even as the party changed its debate rules to allow Republican dowager Michael Bloomberg to briefly live out his youthful fantasy of running for president. By party acclimation, the septuagenarian Biden was anointed champion after the South Carolina primary. All thoughts of his age were set aside—until this year, when those same party elites were blindsided by the fact that time only moves forward. Biden had in fact gotten quite old. Then they were rocked anew by the Hur Report, which made Castro look prescient.

So now, the hot new thing in the imaginations of the political commentariat is replacing Biden atop the ticket. I’ve long taken a dim view of this prospect, but I want to leave my feelings aside to provide proponents of this idea with something that was sorely lacking during the 2020 primary: foresight. If you’re contemplating moving on from Biden, here’s what you need to know: It will be a brutal road to Election Day, marked by gallons of intraparty bad blood and media coverage so unfavorable to Democratic interests that it will blow your mind.

This fundamental truth is getting glossed over by the likes of Ezra Klein, whose recent audio manifesto in The New York Times promises that Democrats “have a better option than Biden.” It takes several thousand words of throat-clearing, but eventually Klein’s “better option” does kind of hove into view: Kamala Harris, probably, and if not her, then a warm body can be plucked from the “ton of talent in the Democratic Party right now.” And this would all get sorted out at the Democratic National Convention in August. “Could it go badly?” asks Klein. “Sure. But that doesn’t mean it will go badly. It could make the Democrats into the most exciting political show on earth.”

Setting aside the fact that the party’s current streak of passivity bodes poorly for this promise of certain electoral Barbenheimer, what Klein is talking about is a brokered convention. This idea gets raised every election cycle, usually by some desperate crank clinging to the hope that the inevitable might be forestalled, but it’s an especially strange prescription for 2024. Democrats are said to be fighting to save democracy, so kicking voters to the curb in favor of allowing a few thousand party delegates to decide the nominee is an odd look. This plan would also leave a lot of vital work to the last minute, as there would be no Democratic presidential candidate until the third week in August. From there, the Chosen One will have to spin up an entire campaign on the fly, playing logistical catch-up with a Trump team that will have had many months’ head start and which will no longer have to go up against the one politician to have ever bested him.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before we even arrive at that daunting task, we will have to endure several months of pre-convention party infighting as every Democrat with presidential aspirations realizes that if they fail to win the brokered convention sweepstakes and the party nominee wins in November, their Oval Office dreams will get deferred until 2032. Here, we will see the same intense rivalries of an open primary, but instead of playing out on debate stages and cleansed in the sanitizing fire of “the people deciding,” all of this internecine strife and backstabbing will take place in the media and culminate in what will likely be a chaotic convention floor fight broadcast live to the nation on prime-time television.

Naturally, one out-of-the-box solution to this problem is for Democrats to somehow coalesce around the idea of Kamala Harris as successor. Getting there would require the biggest and most influential names in Democratic Party politics to first agree to this and then mount a blitzkrieg of arm-twisting and dealmaking to bring everyone on board. This would be no mean feat, especially considering the fact that Harris has been perpetually dogged by the criticism of anonymous Democratic insiders for as long as I can recall.

Beyond the slings and arrows of outraged presidential aspirants, Biden’s removal will also open deep factional wounds within the party that the Biden presidency successfully cauterized. To his credit, Klein is aware that the president played a role in bringing about this détente. But a more detailed examination of this effort, documented in the newly released book The Truce: Progressives, Centrists, and the Future of the Democratic Party by Hunter Walker and Luppe Luppen, calls into question whether that unity can survive his absence, since so much of it was wrought on the strength of Biden’s preternatural ability to engender trust and forge surprising alliances, especially with progressives. Biden’s removal from the ticket will almost certainly sunder this truce and restart a bloody battle for the future of the party.

There is one final thing to dread in this scenario: With bickering personalities and factional bloodshed taking center stage, kicking Biden off the ticket will lock the party into an epic “Democrats in disarray” newscycle that will last until election night. I’m sorry to say this makes a certain amount of sense: Removing Biden at this point is, at bottom, a desperate act from a party that’s losing the election. For the media it’s chum in the water. And as I’ve said before, you should not count on proponents of Biden’s banishment to ratify the decision as sane or sensible after the fact, let alone provide positive coverage in return for having changed horses in midstream.

Moreover, the brokered convention scenario sets the table for a smorgasbord for the political press. Plates will brim with all of their favorite delicacies: chaos, conflict, and controversy. There will be much on the menu. You’ll have anonymous dissenters shivving Democratic decision makers in the pages of Politico; grass-is-greener bedwetters bemoaning the fact that their preferred candidate didn’t get picked; Twitter discord from all quarters mined for clicks; and the inevitable rise of a “We miss Joe Biden” faction to cluck-cluck at those who made the fateful choice. And all of this content will get stuffed into a news hole at the expense of any or all the messaging that Democrats might want to stick there.

It’s definitely possible to imagine that some candidate, free from the gerontological concerns that dog Biden, might have an advantage against Trump. This is what Julián Castro was warning about four years ago, after all. But if the party makes a switch now, the road ahead will have many points of pain and many opportunities to wear that precious advantage down. It could end up being a wash in the end, or worse. It’s definitely not going to be as easy as many proponents of this plan are willing to admit right now. But if Democrats choose to make this leap, they should make sure they do what they failed to do in 2020: peer over the edge of the cliff from which they’re about to hurl themselves, and steel themselves for the long descent.

This article first appeared in Power Mad, a weekly TNR newsletter authored by deputy editor Jason Linkins. Sign up here.