Hedging Our Bets (Keep Cory Alive)

I am one of the millions of Americans who - without having much respect for, or trust in, the Democratic Party - will almost certainly vote for the Democratic nominee in next year's presidential election.

As anyone who reads this Gazette regularly will know, I deeply resent being in this predicament.  But that is business for another time.  Right now, my concern is that the deeply flawed Democratic Party should somehow nominate a candidate for President who can do three things:

First, defeat Donald Trump in both the popular and electoral vote - and in a manner sufficiently convincing that there will be no question of the winning candidate assuming power in January, 2021.

Second, have coattails sufficiently long that they will assure the election of a Democratic majority in the US Senate - and the continuation of a Democratic majority in the House of Representatives.

Third, offer the sort of unifying leadership which will permit the next Administration - in conjunction with Congress - to repair the damage that has been done to our Republic by four years of Donald Trump and his snivelling collaborators in what are meant to be two separate, co-equal branches of government.  And also, move boldly forward in addressing the real needs of this nation, and the planet of which it has, until recently, been the leading nation.

Since July, I have borne an active part in the effort to choose the best possible Democratic candidate to achieve these three goals - by supporting the candidacy of Elizabeth Warren, a brilliant, persistent, ambitious Senator with a clear vision for a better future.

I continue to have the highest regard for Senator Warren.  But at this point, after serious deliberation, I am no longer convinced that she is the candidate who can do all three of the things that must be done.

I continue to believe that she is capable of defeating Donald Trump for the presidency, but I have growing doubts that she is the candidate to usher in the Senate majority without which no Democratic President will be able to accomplish what is necessary.

And I am increasingly dubious about her ability to offer the kind of broad-based appeal, and inspiring leadership, which could mobilize a majority of the American people in transforming this country.

Now, doubts are not certainties.  And after the months of hard work I have put into Senator Warren's campaigh - efforts which have taken me all over western Oregon (and far more deeply into the councils of the Democratic Party than feels comfortable) - I am extremely reluctant to change horses in mid-stream.  This is especially true because the horse to which I would change continues to poll in the low single digits, and will not participate in the Democratic Party debate on December 19.

That said, the stakes in this campaign are simply too high for me - or for any of us - to get it wrong.  We dare not nominate - even if we can elect - a President who will not be able to muster the congressional and popular support to do what must be done in the next four years.  No matter how remarkable a candidate might be - no matter how brilliant that candidate's ideas - we need to elect someone who will be able to lead us.

And I am increasingly inclined to believe that that candidate is Senator Cory Booker, of New Jersey.

For now, my position is that Elizabeth Warren needs to make significant changes to her campaign, and greatly simplify and focus her message.  If she made those changes - and won the nomination - I would hope she named Senator Booker as her running-mate.

But it is also my view that all of us - regardless of which front-runner we might support or prefer - must take steps to keep Senator Booker in this race, and to bring him back onstage for all future debates.

Senator Booker is not, as of now, the first choice of many - but he is extraordinarily well-liked by supporters of almost every candidate.  If the party remains divided - and Booker remains viable - he offers the best chance by far of being the "dark horse" candidate who can unify a divided party and lead it to victory in November.

And, because he is so likable, so energetic - and so unthreatening - he is absolutely the candidate who can help us elect a Democratic Senate majority.

I hope to return to this theme in future posts.  For now, I urge every reader to send a small contribution to Senator Booker's campaign.  Should you be contacted by a polling group, I encourage you - at least for now - to consider naming him as your choice for President.

And, if you are at all in agreement with the ideas expressed - however imperfectly - in this post, I urge you to share it with your friends and colleagues.

Senator Booker is, at present, the first choice of a small percentage of those who oppose President Trump.  But the time might well come when we need him, as the one candidate who can bring together the increasingly divided and mutually hostile supporters of the four leading candidates - and keep us together through November, and beyond.

The Schweiker Gambit

In 1976, Ronald Reagan - on the point of losing his challenge to President Gerald Ford for the Republican nomination - decided to take a gamble.  Weeks before the Republican National Convention, he announced that his running-mate would be Richard Schweiker, a moderate Senator from Pennsylvania.

The Schweiker Gambit was the result of desperation.  Despite his popularity, Reagan was being severely schooled in the awesome power of incumbency.  In the end, the gambit failed.  Indeed, it appeared to backfire, temporarily damaging Reagan's credibility with the party's aggressive and growing right wing.

In 1980, when Reagan won the nomination, he did not repeat his move.  His ultimate choice of George H. W. Bush came at the last possible moment, surprising nearly everyone.  The Schweiker Gambit has not been used by a significant major-party presidential candidate since the Gipper first introduced it, over 40 years ago.

But does that mean it should never again be tried?

In this year's Democratic field, three of the four leading candidates share one unusual characteristic:  All are over 70.  The oldest, Bernie Sanders (78) maintains a blistering pace on the campaign trail, despite his recent heart attack.  But still, that heart attack happened.  A year younger, Joe Biden campaigns more sedately, conserving his energy and trying to avoid the verbal slips which - though they have followed him throughout his career - might now be taken as evidence that he is losing a step, mentally.

The youngest of the three, Elizabeth Warren, seems to be driven by some inexhaustible power source - as though she embodies the case for alternative energy within her slender frame.  Still, she is 70 years old, and the questions which surround her male rivals cannot entirely be ignored in her case.

In a race in which three of the four principal Democratic candidates - and the incumbent president - are in their 70s, the question arises:  Should the Schweiker Gambit be revived?  And if so, how would that be done?

The case for a candidate naming her or his running-mate can certainly be made.  By long tradition, both parties routinely ratify the vice-presidential choices of their presidential nominees.  Virtually no mechanism exists for denying a newly-nominated candidate her or his choice.  Whatever scrutiny exists is performed entirely by the new presidential nominee's campaign staff. 

Yet the choice of a running-mate can be among the most important decisions a future president makes.  Search your historic memory for one thing William McKinley did that could possibly rival his choice of Teddy Roosevelt as his running-mate in 1900.  Consider the dramatic results of FDR's choosing Harry Truman.  Or JFK's decision to team up with his rival, Lyndon Johnson.

A case could certainly be made for the two major parties playing a greater role in vetting vice-presidential nominees.  In our national history, eight vice-presidents have succeeded to office upon the death of a president.  Two more - Martin Van Buren and George H. W. Bush - won election immediately following the president under whom they had served.

The mathematical probability is that the election of 2020 will be between two individuals in their seventies.  Considering this fact, the likelihood of the next vice-president succeeding to the presidency has grown disturbingly high.  Since the parties themselves seem unable to apply serious scrutiny to their candidates' choice of running-mates, perhaps the people themselves - through the primary process - should have a voice.

But how would this be done? 

It should be remembered that the Schweiker Gambit was a last-minute roll of the dice by a candidate on the verge of losing the nomination.  It should also be remembered that it did not work.  For any of the three septuagenarian Democratic front-runners suddenly to introduce a running-mate could be taken - likely would be taken - as a sign of desperation.

But what if the Democratic Party itself suggested this step?  What if the candidates agreed to it?  Perhaps best of all, what if a popular groundswell developed, demanding that all of the older candidates - or perhaps, all of the candidates, regardless of age - name their prospective running-mates before the Iowa caucuses? 

For certain, the people voting in the caucuses and primaries would be better informed, having teams to choose from, rather than individuals - one of whom would end up with an unrestricted choice next summer.

Moving toward an early choice of running-mates could also do something about the disturbing tendency of the Democratic presidential race to become a contest among white candidates.  There would be enormous pressure on all of the leading Democratic contenders to choose running-mates of color - which would restore a sense of inclusion to a contest which threatens to forfeit the enthusiasm of millions of citizens. 

Ideally, of course, candidates of color will remain in the contest for the top job.  And for certain, the Democratic Party must take serious steps to revise their debate rules so that this is the last campaign in which all candidates of color risk elimination before the first caucus or primary vote is cast.

But for 2020, we are where we are.  One hopes that Cory Booker will rally in time to rack up stronger polling numbers - or finds a way to carry on his campaign without participating in the December debate.  But for now, Booker's campaign appears to be in trouble.

That said, with high-quality candidates of color dropping out because of depleted  funds or low polling numbers, there are a number of outstanding vice-presidential choices available to candidates still in the race. 

Perhaps 2020 is the year to revive the Schweiker Gambit. 

Calling on the surviving Democratic candidates to name their running-mates in January would reassure Americans concerned that so many of their choices are in their eighth decade of life.  It would, for the first time in memory, give Americans at least some role in choosing a candidate who might well succeed to the presidency.  And it might - however imperfectly - restore at least some diversity to a contest fast becoming all-white, and very nearly all-senior.

The Fatal Mistake (December, 2003)

"South Bend, Ind., Mayor Pete Buttigieg and Sen. Elizabeth Warren  (D-Mass.) have ramped up their public feud in recent days..."  The Washington Post (12/6/2019)

A word to the wise, from an old guy who has been around:  Stop this, now!

A little story...

On the afternoon of Christmas, 2003, I flew from my home in Virginia to Manchester, New Hampshire for a life-altering week knocking on doors for Howard Dean.

I only had that one week.  I was teaching high school full-time, but I had been powerfully drawn to Dean's insurgent campaign, and I'd always wanted to be involved in the New Hampshire Primary.  So when my best friend - a very wise woman - asked why I always talked about New Hampshire but never went, I made up my mind to spend my holiday break in the center of the political universe.

It was an exciting week.  I stayed in a nice hotel.  I had agreed with a Virginia newspaper to write a daily article about the experience, and the quiet of my room proved very necessary. 

This series of eight "dispatches from the front" led to a weekly newspaper column in the same paper, then another column in a local weekly, and an eleven-year career as an opinion writer.

The writing proved to be the life-altering part of my trip.  I didn't help elect a President.  Howard Dean - who was leading in the Iowa and New Hampshire polls when I flew to Manchester - was out of the contest by February 18.

The popular myth is that Dean lost the nomination because of "the Scream" - Dean's personal version of Hollywood's celebrated Wilhelm scream on the night of the Iowa caucuses.  The "Dean Scream" was actually Dean's hoarse-voiced attempt at a battle-cry, ending his speech after he ran a disappointing third.

Vermonters should never attempt a Rebel Yell.

But, as I say, the Scream is mainly a myth.  Yes, it was damaging - but it happened because the candidate had run third in a contest he had been expected to win.  Had Dean won the Iowa caucuses, there would have been no "Scream".  He would have been the front-runner, with a double-digit lead in New Hampshire - and a clear shot at the Democratic nomination and a fall campaign against an unpopular George W. Bush.

Instead, Dean ran third in Iowa, after John Kerry and John Edwards.  Kerry went on to win New Hampshire - erasing Dean's 30% lead of mere weeks before.  Three weeks later, after another third-place finish in Wisconsin, Dean ended his campaign.  The Iowa winners, Kerry and Edwards, went on to become running-mates, and lost to Bush and Cheney.

From my less-than-lofty perch as a door-knocker in Manchester, I saw the whole thing happening - and couldn't do anything to stop it.  The Dean campaign made one fatal mistake - a particularly dumb mistake - and it killed Dean's campaign and pretty much guaranteed a second term for George W. Bush.

What was that mistake?

The Dean campaign decided to go after Dick Gephardt - the former House Minority Leader who had stepped down in 2003, making way for Nancy Pelosi.  A Missourian, Gephardt ran largely on his support in the Midwest and on the loyalty of labor.  It was his second try for the Presidency, and - while he was much loved in the Party - he was hardly an interesting or exciting candidate.

I met Gephardt during my week in New Hampshire.  Since I was there as a volunteer - and was also writing a nightly column - I decided I needed to meet at least one candidate during my week.  Dean wasn't due to be in the area, but Gephardt was - at a bagel shop in Concord, across the street from the state capitol.  So I took a few hours off, drove up, and shook his hand.

I met a nice guy who was never going to be president.  His welcoming committee consisted of older men - working types - who were friendly, but hardly excited.  It was clear in five minutes that the Gephardt campaign was a sort of "farewell tour".  Gephardt was enjoying the attention, visiting old friends and supporters - maybe hoping for a vice-presidential slot - but he wasn't going to be President.

And his supporters knew it.  Both in Virginia, before I left, and in New Hampshire, I talked with any number of union folks who loved Gephardt, but were intrigued by Dean.  The message - over and over - was:  "We'll stick with Dick until he drops out, but after that, we really like Dean."

But, instead of sticking to the high road and being patient, the Dean campaign got into a pissing contest with Gephardt's people - and committed suicide.  In New Hampshire, I could see this coming.  One afternoon, when we should have been knocking on doors, a bunch of us were rounded up and dispatched to stand on a street waving Dean signs as Gephardt's motorcade passed by on the way to an event.

It was a silly way to spend a few hours - kinda fun, but mindless.  It was also challenging, as we'd be equipped with big 4' x 8' signs, which wanted to turn into sails in the cold, brisk, whirling breezes of late December. 

And of course, the Gephardt folks found out about it, and chose and alternate route, so the whole exercise proved useless. 

But it reflected something going on at a higher level.  The paid staff of the Dean campaign and that of the Gephardt campaign had decided to go after each other.  In New Hampshire, we had our silly sign-waving expedition.  In Iowa, things got a lot uglier.

And as a result, the front-runner got into a fight with a guy who was no threat.  And two candidates who were supposed to be also-rans in Iowa - Kerry and Edwards - stayed above the battle and took the top slots.  Gephardt ran fourth, and ended his campaign the next day.  Kerry won New Hampshire, with Dean second - but Dean's insurgency was over.

At the time, I knew the Dean-Gephardt scrap was a mistake.  In retrospect, I see it as the fatal mistake.  Dean was the front-runner.  Gephardt wasn't going to win.  And a lot of Gephardt's people - particularly the union people - were ready to move to Dean when their guy dropped out.

All the front-runner had to do was act like one.

So why didn't that he? 

I don't know.  But I do know this.  The people who run campaigns are human beings - but their view of a campaign is very different from the views of citizen volunteers.  For us, victory for our preferred candidate is highly desirable, but other outcomes - at least, some of them - are acceptable.

For the professional staffers, winning is all-or-nothing. They're playing for incredibly high stakes.  The key staffers of a winning candidate will probably end up working in the White House.  The rest will be looking around for jobs in gubernatorial campaigns, mayoral races, etc.  They are working incredibly long hours, eating poorly and sleeping irregularly, and under enormous stress.  They have personal friendships and animosities with staffers in other campaigns.

There's a lot of dynamite lying around, and any spark can ignite it.

But when an explosion happens, it far too often proves fatal - to both campaigns and candidates.

I've seen it happen.

So when I read that the Warren and Buttigieg campaigns are starting to attack each other this December, I think back to another December, sixteen years ago.

And I start to wonder which candidate will stay above the battle, and pick up the pieces when both combatants self-destruct.

I've never believed Sanders or Biden will win the nomination.  The Party won't have Sanders.  And Biden just proved - at that little town-hall in Iowa - that he isn't a safe choice to send into a debate against Donald Trump.

So, if Warren and Buttigieg don't make peace, who plays the John Kerry role in 2020?

My money would be on Amy Klobuchar or Cory Booker.

Or perhaps, like Kerry and Edwards in 2004, on the two as a ticket.

How Warren Can Win: Becoming Presidential

In my previous post, I set forth my reasons for believing that Elizabeth Warren's campaign is headed for defeat in the early primaries:  It doesn't listen - because the campaign organization in Charlestown isn't set up to listen.

If I had the ear of Elizabeth Warren - which her campaign structure makes impossible - I would advise her to take the next few weeks to go to Charlestown, reorganize her campaign and revise her strategy.

She can afford the time.  Right now, Americans are starting to focus on the approaching holidays - and any time they can spare for politics will probably be devoted to the rapidly evolving drama of the House impeachment inquiry.  There will not be another chance for Warren to set things straight in Charlestown before Iowa and New Hampshire.  If she fails to do that now, it will likely be too late.

Warren's campaign has two fundamental and interrelated problems.  First, as outlined in my previous post, the campaign doesn't listen - to its smart, street-savvy volunteers or to the American people in general.

Second, Warren still doesn't appear presidential - and it's time she did.

The rally I attended in Raleigh last month was probably typical.  Held in a high school basketball arena, it was more pep rally than town hall.  For most of her appearance, the candidate seemed almost a caricature of herself - an amped-up, Kate McKinnon version of Liz Warren rather than the thoughtful scholar and law professor President Warren would probably resemble in power.

But that's who we need to see now.  Not the candidate, rallying her true believers, but the President, building a national consensus.

For a while, the high-energy Liz Warren was just fine.  But she's ridden that horse as far as it will carry her.  Her fired-up persona - combined with the unending flood of ambitious, change-oriented plans cascading from her Charlestown headquarters - attracted a host of volunteers and passionate supporters.  But now, between Warren and Bernie Sanders, that activist pool has been pretty much drained dry.

And in the process, Warren has permitted the media to paint her as further to the left than she actually is.  For in truth, Warren is pretty close to the center of where the Democratic electorate would be - if  many of them weren't terrified of a second Trump term.

Many primary voters worry about "electability", and right now, the Warren campaign is playing right into their worst fears.   Her unceasing cascade of plans - together with her personal intensity - combine to convey the impression of an out-of-control radical.  Warren comes across as someone who wants to change everything - driving drastic changes through all at once, without listening to anyone who disagrees with her.

That's why recent polls show her dropping rapidly, as voters seek desperately for a "moderate" alternative who isn't too old and dotty, too young and robotic, too rich and out-of-touch - or too just-plain-boring.

And this is tragic.  The fact is that Elizabeth Warren - the person, not the image - is the ideal candidate to unite the Democratic Party, defeat Donald Trump, elect a Democratic majority to the Senate, and push through an ambitious, but balanced, program of reform over the next eight years. 

Warren is an aggressive reformer, but she's no ideologue - and certainly, no socialist.  She's ambitious.  She has big plans.  She's hard-driving.  But as President, I'd expect Warren to govern very much in the tradition of FDR or Harry Truman - as a constructive realist able to unify and lead a diverse, big-tent party toward serious reform.  As a president whose negotiating style is to start the bidding high and bargain tough - enlisting the support of, but not being controlled by, both the party's progressive and moderate wings.   

What Warren needs to do - what she needs to reorganize her campaign to do - is to get that message across in early 2020.  She needs to get over the thrill of being the candidate of a highly-motivated 15  or 20%, and demonstrate her willingness and ability to become the leader of the whole country.

The ingredients of such a transformation are already there, in her biography, in her Senate record, and even in her stump speech.  She wouldn't have to fake it.  She just has to stop playing Bernie's game - or, if you will, Trump's game - enjoying the adulation of a passionate minority, while missing the chance to reach out to, and hammer together, a governing majority.

What, then, would a re-configured Warren campaign do?

First, Warren herself must stop emphasizing her myriad plans and focus on one issue - corruption - the effect of toxic amounts of big money in our politics.  This emphasis is already there near the end of her stump speech.  At that point, Warren will slow her pace talk seriously about how the one key reform - which would make all other reforms possible - is to curb the influence of big money, dark money, and lobbyist-directed money on politics.

Warren has probably won all the votes she's going to win by talking about her plans.  Now, she's just scaring people away.  But few Americans outside the 1% are opposed to campaign finance reform, gerrymandering reform, lobbying reform, and voter-access reform.  By focusing on these issues, Warren could reach out to the great majority of Americans.  It's time she did that.

Second, Warren needs to start talking - not about what she would do as President, but how she would govern.  For example, she should talk about Abraham Lincoln's strategy of inviting his rivals for the nomination to serve in his Cabinet.  By signalling a willingness to include many of her rivals in her administration, Warren would reassure cautious voters of her desire to work with a broad array of Democrats and independents, not just the very liberal, highly-educated, mostly white, coastal middle-class which makes up her base.

Third, Warren should put herself forward as the candidate most eager to recruit and campaign for Democrats down-ticket - especially in key Senate races.  As an exciting and charismatic personality, Warren probably has the longest coat-tails of any candidate in the race.  By emphasizing her  willingness to elect moderate and center-right Senators in Southern and Midwestern states - and to work with them as part of a governing Democratic majority - Warren would signal an understanding that her ambitious goals are not going to become law without Congressional input and support.

The bottom line?

The Warren campaign needs to do a much better job of listening - to its own volunteers, and through them, to the American man and woman in the street.

The campaign needs to de-emphasize the library of detailed plans, and focus on the one issue which will determine the fate of every plan - curbing the power of big money in politics.

Finally, it needs - through the candidate - to signal a willingness to govern pragmatically, as the leader of a broad coalition, not merely an activist minority.

By doing these things, Warren can save her candidacy - and perhaps, her country.

Why Warren Won't Win...

If this title offends you, know this - it would sure as hell have offended me a few weeks ago.  I intend to offer a subsequent post about how my candidate might yet turn things around. 

For now though, let this warning land.  Because I think I'm onto something.

I volunteered for Elizabeth Warren's campaign in Oregon in July.  Since that time, I've poured uncounted hours, a deal of energy, and a perhaps a couple thousand dollars in travel expenses into the effort.  I've logged many miles in the effort to create an organization to carry the Senator's message to every corner of this large and very diverse state.  In the process, without meaning to, I've risen to a position of some prominence and responsibility in Oregon's large and active volunteer campaign.

To cap it off, a few weeks ago - back in my native Virginia for a funeral - I was personally invited to Raleigh for a campaign event and the chance for a selfie with my candidate.

It was a memorable evening, but immediately afterward, I put my campaign efforts on hold. I felt the need to step back and study the big picture, because what I experienced in Raleigh was a reflection of what I've been experiencing - and worriedly discussing with fellow Warren leaders about - since summer.

This campaign is in trouble.

It's in trouble, because it doesn't fit the candidate.  The organization, the strategy, the whole approach are just wrong.  And unless there's a major shake-up in Charlestown, this campaign will be over by Super Tuesday, if not before.

Please understand, this warning is not my response to the recent polls.  At this point in a primary campaign, polls will go up and down - whereas my critique of the campaign has been the same for months.  But when things seem to be going well, you hesitate to put criticisms out there for the world to read.  You cross your fingers and hope you're wrong.

Even if you've been involved in politics for half a century, and know damn well you're not wrong.

Now, with Warren's recent drop in the polls, there's every reason to sound an alarm.

In my judgment, if this campaign doesn't turn itself around - this month - the best-qualified, most dynamic candidate in the Democratic field will not be taking on Donald Trump in the fall.  And all of us who've poured heart and soul and time and thought and treasure into the Warren campaign will end up having to choose between wasting our primary votes on the candidate we've believed in - or voting strategically for a lesser candidate with a chance at the nomination.

I've been there before - in 2004.  And it stinks.

So, if you're still with me, here's what I see as the problem with the Warren campaign.

They don't listen.

The Warren campaign wasn't set up to listen - and there's a reason for that.  Like most professionally-managed campaigns, the Warren campaign was organized to create the illusion of grassroots support through carefully-managed messaging and top-down control.  It aimed to create the appearance of a popular mass movement, when in fact, the best it hoped to produce was a small cadre of volunteers - and reasonable levels of support among the mass of uncertain, undecided voters.

Most professional campaigns are set up this way.  They have no choice.  They must create an illusion, either because there isn't much genuine enthusiasm for the candidate, or because that enthusiasm is too limited to bring into being an active community of supporters with the means and know-how to act independently, building a volunteer campaign at the grassroots level.

But the top-down campaign model is always a substitute for the real thing.  And it absolutely doesn't fit a candidate capable of generating real enthusiasm among people smart enough and savvy enough to organize on their own.  When that happens - when a candidate breaks through and starts to create a movement - her campaign needs to re-organize to take advantage of that powerful new reality.

In short, the campaign needs to transform itself from a marketing effort into a movement.

For Warren - a candidate clearly capable of creating mass support - that has yet to happen.  Instead, having doubled down on its messaging, the campaign remains a top-down hierarchy, utterly oblivious to input from Warren's active supporters.  And, for that reason, things have started going wrong.

Here in Oregon, the Warren campaign has attracted an enormous group of active volunteers - over 700 in Portland, a hundred more in Bend, and active groups in more than half of our state's 36 counties.  Where Oregon Democratic campaigns typically aim at winning big in the seven populous "blue" counties of the upper I-5 corridor, the Warren campaign - entirely run by volunteers - has actively embraced the goal of reaching every part of the state - even the reddest, least populous counties of the 2nd Congressional District.

The caliber of Warren's ambitious, statewide team is remarkable.  Of the campaign's 30 or so community team leaders, nearly all are savvy professional women with advanced degrees.  Without a dollar from Charlestown, this volunteer campaign has grown quite sophisticated, with an increasingly horizontal organization which permits efficient communication among the leadership and street level volunteers. 

Yet, for all this hard work and smart organization, it's nearly impossible for anyone - even the top echelon of state leaders - to get attention from Charlestown.  There's simply no mechanism.

For example, in October, at the Democratic Party of Oregon's well-attended biennial "summit" at Sunriver, Warren swept an important straw poll, gaining 140 votes to 19 votes for Bernie Sanders, who ran second.  Mayor Pete was the only other candidate in double figures.

This story might have made a small national splash the next morning - a Sunday - but no hint of Warren's success reached the national media, because no hint reached Charlestown.  Despite repeated attempts to give the national campaign a heads-up that the straw poll would happen, and that we expected to do well, our calls and emails went unanswered.  When the results were announced, we didn't have anyone to call.

A minor matter, no doubt.  And to be sure, Oregon, with its May 19 primary, is a sideshow.  But it's hard to imagine another campaign failing to capitalize on even so small an item of good news.

With the Warren campaign, deafness remains the defining characteristic.  For months now, on the campaign's app - which purports to provide internal social media for Warren supporters - volunteers have repeatedly warned that certain of the candidate's much-bruited plans were not playing well with the general public. 

Of course, that news eventually reached the national media - and has been put to good use by Warren's rivals and critics.  But the warnings were there much earlier - from Warren's most ardent supporters - if only someone in Charlestown had been paying attention.

Warren's campaign looks a lot like Hillary 2.0.  The people in Charlestown act like they know more than the volunteers in the field - and maybe they do.  But volunteers know things, too, and they aren't being heard.

Elizabeth Warren is a remarkable candidate.  She has attracted huge numbers of smart, savvy volunteer supporters who are out on the streets and in their neighborhoods every day, listening to the American people.  They also talk with each other.  They hear good news and bad news.  They have ideas and suggestions.  But the national campaign turns a deaf ear.

It's hard not to see that as arrogant.  Like I say, Hillary 2.0.

Charlestown continues to crank out smart, detailed, well-researched plans - when it has become all too clear to those of us in the field that the public isn't responding well to a campaign designed by and for policy wonks.  Most Americans don't have time to do that much homework.  And, not being naive, most citizens know that candidates' campaign platforms seldom reflect what happens if they end up governing.

Plans have never been the reason most people have been attracted to Elizabeth Warren.  We like that she has plans.  We know she is brilliant, and we accept that she's a wonk.  But that's not why we want her to be our President.

Most of us who support Elizabeth Warren do so because we like her and trust her - because we see in her, not just someone who can defeat Donald Trump, but a potentially great President of the United States.

There are a lot of us out here - in America - who have been trying for a long time to get Warren elected.  But we're starting to realize that Warren's campaign doesn't fit the person we thought we knew. 

We, the volunteers, have things to say, but we aren't being heard. And if her supporters feel that way, what must the rest of American feel?

In the end, what the American people have always wanted in a President is not so much someone with great ideas, but someone who listens.  Left or right, the candidate who seems to hear us is the candidate we end up electing.

If Elizabeth Warren is really that kind of person - and I sense she is - she needs that kind of campaign.

Advocacy Tip: Speak For Yourself!

Since midsummer, I've been deeply engaged in Elizabeth Warren's campaign for President.

I should be clear about this.  I'm a volunteer, not paid staff.  As ever in a long life in politics, I'm what the old-timers called a free lance - a citizen volunteer doing battle for the candidate of my choice in an election of consequence. 

No one pays me. No one instructs me.  I don't work off a script.

And when this is all over, and Elizabeth Warren is - I fervently hope - President of the United States,  I expect I'll disagree with my new President and her policies and priorities from time to time.

Some will find this attitude incomprehensible.  Today's politics - fueled by Americans' obsession with media and sheltered by our shameful ignorance of the past - has steadily become the arena of artificially outsized personalities.  Like a super-hero or super-villain in a blockbuster movie, the  contemporary candidate is portrayed as larger than life, but also - in a personal sense - curiously shallow and two-dimensional. 

In such an environment, if you're for a candidate, you're expected to be "all in" - agreeing with everything he or she says.  This attitude is terrifyingly prevalent among Trump supporters - which should be a sufficient argument for caution - but it was (and is) almost equally true of Obama supporters.  And Bernie supporters.  Going back a bit, it was true of those passionate about Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan, and JFK.

It is a significant risk in every candidacy.

Political commentators refer to passionate "all-in" supporters as a politician's base.  As a student of Shakespeare, base isn't a thing I aspire to be.   Moreover, as a lifetime student of history, I find such fervent, unquestioning loyalty incomprehensible - and dangerous.

No human being, in all of history, has been infallible.  In my lifetime, I can't think of a single political figure who has risen to the level of historic greatness. Winston Churchill was still alive in my childhood, but he had long since had his "finest hour".  I was born six years too late to live under FDR, the last great American president.  In my time, Bobby Kennedy might have grown into greatness, but he never got the chance.  Nobody else - in electoral politics - has come close.

There was a time in our history when Congressional figures could rise to that level.  Henry Clay, for example, never won the presidency, but was certainly greater than all but a handful of those who have.  But in eight decades of World War, Cold War, terrorism, and the rise of the techo-security state, the executive branch has come into the ascendant - dangerously so.  No one in Congress has had the opportunity to show towering greatness since at least the early '60s.

Curiously, in my lifetime - with the White House occupied by an alternating series of mediocrities and sociopaths - the greatest governmental figure was probably Chief Justice Earl Warren.  But the present court, divided into partisan factions, offers no opportunity for a Warren or a John Marshall.

But I digress. My point is that, in modern American politics, greatness is a vanishingly rare commodity.  Most presidential candidates attempt to pull off the trick of the Wizard of Oz - projecting an artificially commanding, but two-dimensional, on-screen presence, while concealing the all-too-ordinary individual behind the curtain. 

Given this reality, it's remarkable that so many Americans, whatever their politics, continue falling into the trap of the cult of personality.

Why must we feel that our candidate of choice is infallible - when a more realistic view offers so many advantages when we are out campaigning? 

May I explain?


In recent days, I've received several emails from fellow Warren activists asking how I would defend particular aspects of the Senator's famous plans - in particular, her insistence that Medicare for All should replace all private policies, immediately, even for Americans who would prefer to retain their current employee health insurance.

This issue seems to be arising more and more often.  Without question, this single concern is an obstacle to many citizens embracing Senator Warren.  It has the potential to become her Achilles' heel. 

But climbing down from that too-advanced position is a matter for the candidate and her strategic inner circle.  My challenge is to speak with real Oregon voters - and occasionally, to offer advice and counsel to friends who are doing the same work.

Here is what I do, and what I suggest, about Medicare for All, Right Now.  I speak - not for Senator Warren - but for myself, as a citizen who wants Warren to be elected President, but has not surrendered the right to think for himself.  I answer, truthfully...

"Honestly, I agree with you. Forcing Americans to give up health care policies they have worked hard to earn seems neither wise nor fair.  On this issue, I think Elizabeth wants to move too fast.

"But that doesn't alter my support for her.  When I decide to support someone for President, it's not because of their plans, but because I trust them.  Because they have, in their careers, demonstrated certain essential qualities which have, historically, characterized our great and near-great Presidents:  good character; intelligence; vision; the ability to select and lead an effective team; the ability to communicate with fellow citizens; a high level of energy; persistence; common sense; and most of all, the ability to learn. 

"I don't worry much about plans.  Plans change.  When Abe Lincoln ran for President in 1860, the Republican Party's campaign slogan was 'Vote Yourself a Farm!'  Yep.  Lincoln ran on the Homestead Act - and the transcontinental railroad, and other related economic policies.  He didn't run as a war leader or an emancipator.  He  didn't expect the Civil War, and he had no idea that fighting it would provide the occasion to end slavery. 

"Or take FDR.  He knew, of course, that he'd have to deal with the Great Depression, but during his campaign, he promised repeatedly to do so by cutting taxes and balancing the Federal budget.  When he got into office, saw how the problem looked from behind the Big Desk, and talked to his economic advisors, he did exactly the opposite.  He borrowed and spent to stimulate the economy - and over time, he put America back to work.

"Now, throughout her life, Elizabeth Warren has proved willing and able to learn new things and leave old ideas behind.  Did you know she was raised in Norman, Oklahoma - and that she was a conservative Republican when they hired her to teach at Harvard Law?  What changed her mind was a research project focusing on the Bankruptcy Act of 1994.  She went in thinking bankruptcy was too easy on foolish people - that it let them off the hook for irresponsible decisions they had freely made.  What she discovered was the "predatory lending" industry - and that changed her whole view of how the American economy operates.

"Which is why I don't worry too much about her health care plan - or really, any of her plans.  I'm not interested so much in the details of her plans, as in how her mind works.  And what I've learned is that she is bold and visionary - ready to make what she calls "big, structural change".  At this point in our history, I think we need that.  Senator Warren thinks big, but she is practical enough to figure out how her new ideas will be paid for, and to make provision for that.

"Like FDR, I expect President Warren will change her mind about a lot of things when she gets to the White House.  Not her goals, but the details. I think her goals are pretty clear.   She has an appealing vision of the kind of America she wants us to build together.  But the ways and means will change considerably.  Senator Warren has proved in the past that she's smart enough to admit when she's wrong - and if it turns out she's wrong about moving to Medicare For All so quickly, I'm confident she'll adopt a more gradual course.

"And really, won't she have to?  I really hope the Democrats take back the Senate next year - and put Mitch McConnell out to pasture.  I think Elizabeth is the Democrats' best chance to do that, because people will come out to vote for her.  She'll have coattails.  But even if the Democrats win the Senate and hold the House, there are going to be enough moderate Democrats in both chambers to slow things down a bit.  President Warren will have to compromise with Congress, as all Presidents do.

"But at least she's starting from a posture of thinking big and acting boldly.  That's the only way to deal with Congress.  If you start off timid, you won't accomplish a thing.

"Anyway, that's my answer.  I'm for a more gradual shift to single-payer health care.  I'd like to say I agree with my candidate on everything, but I don't have to.  What's important to me is that I think she's the right person for the job - and that she's smart enough to adjust when her plans don't quite match reality.  That's why I'm working for her."

Not the sort of answer you would get from a paid staffer - or from someone who had drunk the Kool-Aid.  But that's not my style.  And really, it shouldn't be anyone's style - aside from people who are paid to echo the party line.

We're citizens of a Republic.  We're engaged in the business of choosing someone to run our government for us.  Nothing about that suggests that we have to accept every single word that comes out of a candidate's mouth. 

We're not electing an oracle, a monarch, or a man on a horse.  We're electing a chief executive.

The point is to pick the best person available to do the job.  If greatness happens - that's a pure bonus.

A Word With an Old Friend

I don't need to tell you most of this.  You have your own news sources.  Probably we share a lot of them.  CNN.  PBS.  MSNBC.  The New York Times.  Some of the more intelligent online publications.  (I always check 538, even though I question some of the polls they rely on.  I mean, who trusts HarrisX?)

If you're like me, you probably even have a few non-American sources.  The Guardian app is my go-to for anything, even news of the US.  If you haven't found it yet, you'd like it.

And of course, we each hear from our respective campaigns.  I get daily blasts from Charlestown, what the folks at Warren HQ want us to hear.  I'm sure you get the same thing from Bernie's staff.  We're citizens, of course, but we are also, in the end, pawns in a very big game.

Anyway, we both know something about where this campaign seems to be going.  And if I like it better than you - and of course, I do - I still feel a reflexive twinge every time I see Bernie's numbers bump down another half-point in the aggregates. 

I love that man.  Honor him.  He's an American hero.  If he's not the next President, whoever is should give him the Medal of Freedom.

No, Bernie should have been the nominee in '16.  I don't know if he was actually robbed, but for sure, he was mugged.  If the DNC had left it to us - if they'd remembered what the "D" stands for - he might have been the nominee, for real.

And if he had been, I think he wins.  And the Trump nightmare would have been just that, a bad dream.

I expect you ended up voting for Hillary.  I couldn't get there.  I lived in Virginia then, and with Tim Kaine on the ticket, Hillary was going to get our electoral votes.  I ended up voting for that young guy from Utah - McMillan?, McMullen?, whatever...

Yeah.  Bernie got screwed in '16.  We all did.

But this year, you're with The Bern, and I'm with Liz Warren.  And so far, they've made a great team - advocating a similar vision for America, watching each other's backs in the "debates".  It's been nice to see.

I hope that doesn't change now, when things are starting to shake out.  Like I say, you get the same news - read same polls - as I do.  This has turned into a three-person race, but it's starting to look, more and more, like it's becoming more a two-person race:  Warren vs. Biden.

I know.  I said it.  Looks like it's going to be Liz or Joe. 

I expect you're starting to see that, too - and you don't want to believe it.  I get it.  I've been there, more times than I can count.  But for Bernie, there's a special pain.  It just isn't fair.  Such a great man.  Remarkable.  Courageous. 

Fun.  Remember how much fun it was in '16, when it actually started to look like he would take the Party away from the Clintons, the Wall Street Democrats, the DLC-types - and turn it into a party of the people again? 

Bernie did that.  Nobody else could have done it.  Where we are now - we wouldn't be there without The Bern.

Like I say, it just ain't fair.

But I ask you honestly, as a friend - if you're ready to hear the question - can you see a way forward?Is there a scenario where Bernie wins this time?  I mean, I'm all-in for Liz, but if Bernie somehow pulls this thing out, I'm grinning from ear to ear.

I just don't see how he does it.

So I'm asking - friend to friend.  Can you draw me a map, paint me a picture, tell me a story that ends up with Bernie as the nominee, and then the President?  Can you envision how he snatches victory from the jaws of - well - the present situation?

And it's okay if you can't do that right now.  Take as long as you want.

Just this.  If you get to a place where you can't see a way forward - please - it can't be Biden.  It just can't.  I don't think Biden wins against Trump.  I'm damn sure he doesn't have the coattails to take back the Senate.  But even if he pulls it off, President Joe means four years of nothing much - half-assed gestures with the world on fire. 

Literally, on fire.

And then, Joe's what, 80? - and he probably loses to somebody worse than Trump.  (And there could be somebody worse.  Imagine a guy with Trump's ideology, but twenty years younger, with a better  understanding of how government works, no hint of senility, more focused, skilled at building teams, with a thicker skin, etc.)

Really, it just can't be Joe.

So anyway - that's what I have to say.  No pressure.  We both love Bernie.  You keep giving him the support he deserves.

But when the time comes - if it comes - try talking the old gang into helping Liz.  After all, we're still fighting the same damn people - the Wall Street Democrats - and they're already trying to rig this thing for Joe - or anyone who won't upset the big-money donors too much.

You know that, as well as I do.  Maybe better.

I guess that's it.  Good seeing you.  Keep in touch.

And keep fightin' the good fight.

Can Oregon Matter?

Hundreds of Oregonians have already enlisted in the fight to make Elizabeth Warren the next President of the United States.  Many hundreds.  We could be into the thousands by now.

There's enormous activity in Portland and its near-in suburbs, where PDX for Warren has generated the sort of passion I associate with Bobby Kennedy's campaign in '68, or Bernie Sanders' first run four years ago. 

But there's also activity elsewhere, including parts of the state where you might not expect to find cheerful demonstrations of loyalty to a Democratic candidate.  More on that below.

Occasionally, however - for all this incredible stir and bustle - someone will ask the question:  Does this really matter? 

Will all this activity - the rallies, the volunteer training, the canvassing, the phone-banking, the burgeoning cottage industry devoted to button-making - actually make any difference?

Will Oregon matter?

It's a good question.  Oregon is, after all, one of the last states to hold a primary - on May 19.  Oregon won't send a huge delegation to the Democratic National Convention in Milwaukie, Wisconsin.  Indeed, if the 2020 primary season goes true to form, there will almost certainly be a nominee - or at least, a prohibitive favorite - before Oregon votes.

Moving on to November - unless there's a political revolution of catastrophic proportions - Oregon will award its seven electoral votes to whomever the Democratic Party nominates.  Which means that, during the general election campaign, neither member of the Democratic ticket will waste time visiting Oregon.  A Democratic ticket that doesn't carry Oregon would be doomed to humiliating defeat.

So - in terms of affecting the choice of a president - can Oregon matter?

This post will argue that it can, but first, a little background.

I'm very new to Oregon.  I moved to the north coast in August, 2018, after a lifetime in Virginia.  Back east, I'd been involved in politics, on and off, all my life - which tends to happen when your dear old dad serves eighteen years in the state legislature.  But I had absolutely no thought of becoming involved in politics in my new state.

Then the presidential campaign started up.  It felt important, so I looked over the field and did my due diligence.  I narrowed my choices down to three, then two, then - finally - one.  A good one.

So in early July, I decided to find out who was organizing for Elizabeth Warren here in Clatsop County.  (If you don't know Oregon, think of it as an envelope.  Clatsop is where you'd affix the address label.)  I checked around, went to a local Democratic Committee meeting, and found out.

Nobody.

Nobody was organizing for Warren, or really, anyone else.  So I located the Portland group and wound up in touch with Kevin, a bright young guy who's one of Liz Warren's potential "West Wing" team.  He asked if I'd head up the campaign here in Clatsop County - which sounded pretty low-key - and I accepted.

Then I did a little research into Oregon politics.  I learned that, traditionally, the Democratic Party of Oregon focuses on getting out the vote in the 7 "blue" counties around Portland, Salem, and Eugene - i.e., the upper I-5 corridor.  Win those seven counties, they know, and you can elect the Governor, the two US Senators, at least three of our five members of the House of Representatives, and a majority of the state legislature.

And that's how it works.  Rural Oregon - even the tourist and retirement towns that dot our truly dramatic coastline - are afterthoughts.  Like our larger neighbor to the north, Washington, Oregon is a "red" state that votes "blue" because of a big metropolis.  Nine-tenths of our territory votes Republican.  Even my county, which is marginally "blue" - while appreciated - plays little role in the Party's calculations.  Some really progressive people out here, but not enough population.

And that's when I got involved in something slightly more ambitious than my nominal job here in Clatsop.  I contacted a few other volunteer local leaders in counties not deemed essential by the Democratic Party of Oregon.  We decided to make a modest effort at connecting with each other and finding local leaders in neighboring counties in the western third of the state..

To my surprise, the leaders of Warren's powerful Portland group sympathized.  So in August, I scored a couple hundred of their hand-made buttons, met with another local leader at the State Central Committee meeting in Newberg, and started recruiting rural-county leaders in earnest. 

One month and many road-trips - including four over-nighters - later, we had leaders in a third of Oregon's 36 counties, and were close to being organized in a half-dozen more.  And our ambitions changed from organizing the counties in the western half of the state to something we call the "36-County Project" - an effort to have Elizabeth Warren organized in every county of the state. 

Since then, a lot more local leaders have joined the effort.  I recruited a "road warrior" from Portland who made the 450-mile round trip to Canyon City one week, and a 500-mile run to La Grande the next.

The energy for our project has become, in effect, self-sustaining.  We're reaching out to every corner of the state, with good hopes of having an active group working in every county before the Iowa caucuses.  We've even won support from the national headquarters in Charlestown, Mass.

And in the process, we've found a purpose. Actually, two purposes.

First, we're asking all Oregonians for their votes.

We represent a brilliant woman who was born and raised in Norman, Oklahoma.  Who was a high school debating champion in Oklahoma.  Who attended college in Houston, Texas.  A red-state gal who was still a Republican when she was hired to teach law at Harvard.  A legal scholar who changed her politics, her party - and her life - after scholarly research into America's bankruptcy laws persuaded her that predatory lending was destroying millions of American families.

A candidate, in short, who speaks "red-state". 

Elizabeth Warren might not make it to Enterprise, or Ontario, or La Grande - or even to Bend or Medford - during this campaign.  But she needs to ask folks in those "red counties" for their votes.  Through us. 

Because, by asking for their votes, she will open a dialogue that will help enormously when she is President - which all of us, of course, believe she will be.

That's the first purpose behind our project.  You can only bring the American people together if you have asked them - all of them - for their support on your way to the White House.  You might not get their votes, but if you've asked, you've started a conversation.

The second purpose is this:  As far as I know - and I've travelled a good deal of the state now - we're the only campaign making this sort of effort.  True, Bernie Sanders has some passionate loyalists everywhere I go - and I get that.  I was for Bernie in 2016 - and I'm still angry about the way he was treated by the DNC during the primary campaign.

But I've seen little serious effort to organize for Bernie as of yet.  Outside the Portland area, no other candidate - other than Yang - is putting in much effort at all.  Which means, in a sense, that Elizabeth Warren has a clear field in Oregon.  If we can direct our energies into organizing - not only in the seven "blue" counties, but across the whole state - we can go a long way toward locking up Oregon for Elizabeth Warren before the primary season starts.

Think of it this way.  If, by the time the Iowa caucuses meet, the national press can report that Elizabeth Warren's volunteers in Oregon have the state so well-organized that the other campaigns have decided not to invest resources here - that they're writing it off - that's kinda like Oregon had promoted itself to an early primary state.

Indeed, if we've got Oregon fully organized - with folks canvassing in every county - by January, we could actually cast the first vote - ahead of Iowa and New Hampshire.  Ahead of everyone.

What we do - if we do it thoroughly - could make a real difference in Iowa, New Hampshire, Nevada, and South Carolina.  It could make a real difference in Washington and California on Super Tuesday. 

It could make Oregon important in a way that our late primary, and our dependably Democratic electoral votes, never could.

And that's why we're doing this.  To make a difference - right here in Oregon.

The Third Democratic Debate

People who witness public events usually see what they expect to see.  Depending upon their personalities, that could mean they see what they hope for - or what they dread. 

Being a mere mortal, I can't claim to be any more objective than the next observer.  My one advantage is that, as a student of history, I tend to take a longer view than most Americans - for what that's worth.

So, with that disclaimer, here's one man's take on last night's "debate":

The evening of September 12 probably didn't change the reality that this has become a three-way race among Joe Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren. 

In truth, none of the top three surprised anyone.  Bernie was Bernie - the feisty Bernie progressives, as well as comic impressionists everywhere, dearly love.

Joe was his likable, grandfatherly self, though worryingly showing his age and lack of contact with the times. 

Liz was steady, thoughtful, and passionate, but she did introduce one new argument which she will doubtless develop over the coming months - that no American is in love with their health insurance company.  This might prove the answer to doubts about Medicare for All.  If a public option can be designed that offers the same or better coverage - and the same or better choice of doctors - no American will weep for their lost relationship with Aetna, Cigna, or Blue Cross.

All in all, it would be surprising if we enter Iowa and New Hampshire with anyone, other than these three, as serious contenders.

Five other candidates had their moments on the stage, doing well enough to justify staying in the race a bit longer.  This was particularly true of Beto O'Rourke, who will probably enjoy a nice, if ephemeral, bump in the polls after his passionate articulation of a gun policy most sane Americans would actually like to see as law.

Two candidates - Amy Klobuchar and Andrew Yang are probably done.  Klobuchar has established herself as an intelligent and thoughtful centrist, and a senator of genuine character.  However, she lacks the ability to transmit her inner fire over the medium of television - at least, in the bizarre format of a ten-person "debate".  In another era, with different technology- or perhaps simply in a different format - she might be among the leaders now.  But this is not her year.

Yang, like the excluded Tulsi Gabbard, has become something of a cult figure in this race.  But in 2020, there will be room for only one cult figure - and he will be running for re-election.  Yang and Gabbard have enough passionate fans to insist that they hang around for awhile.  Yang loses nothing by doing so.  Gabbard will likely forfeit her seat in Congress, which would be a loss for the public discourse.

Besides Gabbard, none of those failing to make this debate has much reason to soldier on.  One - Steve Bullock - will do his party and his country a positive disservice if he fails to go home to challenge Senator Steve Daines.  If the Republicans end up holding the Senate by one seat, and Bullock does not run, he will merit a far grimmer place in history than he aspires to.

In a similar vein, Tom Steyer - yet one more rich guy who seems unaware that no businessman (other than a few plantation owners) has ever succeeded as President - could be spending his millions to help end the reign of Mitch McConnell as Senate Majority Leader.  Instead, Steyer's ego has him pouring good money after bad.  He'll be on the debate stage in October, and then - when he finds out how different debating is from making video spots - quietly disappear.

To me, the most interesting story coming out of this debate was watching two young candidates begin to maneuver for positions in the next Democratic administration.

The always impressive Pete Buttigieg, in a well-reasoned passage about America reclaiming its place as the world's leader, made a strong case for being our next Secretary of State.  It's the job I've always seen him in - the ideal place for a brilliant, nuanced young person (think, Thomas Jefferson) to prepare himself for a future Presidency.

Julian Castro made a different choice - probably aiming to be the running mate of either Sanders or Warren.  His attack on Joe Biden was clearly a pre-planned take-out move, and it was fairly brutal.  Yet, for all the negative instant reaction, I suspect it will prove effective.  Liberals and progressives have a terrible tendency to be too nice by far - a characteristic they don't need when preparing for the open warfare of 2020.  Nominating a flawed candidate, out of fear of seeming "ageist", would be the height of folly.

What Castro did was to point out that the Emperor is rather scantily clad.  Nobody wanted to say it, but it's what many of us have been thinking - that the Joe Biden of 2019 reminds us of the Ronald Reagan of 1984. 

With that thought comes the fear that he he cannot be counted on to perform well in the WWE grudge-match of a one-on-one debate against the President next fall.  Also, doubts that his policies and elder-statesman persona will attract the youth vote needed to flip the Senate, and hold the House.

In taking on Biden, Castro might have sacrificed himself.  But, assuming no politician sets out to be a hero without some thought for his future, he might also be hoping that the opprobrium of the moment will fade - and that he has positioned himself to be the attack-dog running-mate either Sanders or Warren would choose to take on Mike Pence.

To EAW (Memo 3: Electability.)

Senator Warren,

As you approach the second round of debates, I believe you are well-positioned to win the Democratic nomination.  In writing this, while I note Aaron Blake's recent ranking of the top fifteen Democratic candidates (Washington Post, July 26, 2019), my conclusion rests on my personal assessment of the nomination contest.  I have no inside information, just a lifetime study of history and politics, my own gut feelings about you, as a person, and my sense of the times we are passing through.

As I see it, only one major obstacle stands between you and nomination - the question of "electability".

This question is not entirely new.  There are those who will insist that it is - that it is merely another manifestation of sexism in our culture.  Perhaps that is partly the case.  But to a certain extent, as long as their have been elections, the question has arisen whether a given candidate possessed the necessary qualities to appeal to the citizens of his (usually "his") time.

What is new, I suspect, is the fact that perfectly good liberals and progressives are willing to ask - out loud - whether you are electable, because you are a woman.  In public, where I represent you as a volunteer coordinator for my small Oregon county, I am asked the question point-blank.

Is Elizabeth Warren electable?

Fortunately, in my own person, I have little difficulty answering this question.  I'm a mature man - about your years.  Having, in the course of my life odyssey, practiced law, taught history, and acted professionally, I have a certain amount of presence.  I've been involved in politics most of my life.  So I can say, with a degree of confidence and command, something like this:

It amazes me how many people - not just pundits and political scientists, but ordinary citizens - think there's a way to tell who is "electable".  I've been around politics since I was nine years old, and the question always reminds me of what William Goldman - who wrote the screenplays for "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" and "The Princess Bride" - said in his book about Hollywood:  "Nobody knows anything."

What Goldman meant was that nobody knows what movie will be a hit or a flop.  Millions - sometimes hundreds of millions - are risked to make a movie.  Risked by men and women who have spent their careers in Hollywood.  And, remarkably often, they get it wrong.

The same is certainly true of politics.

Four years ago, how many people thought this country would ever elect Donald Trump President?  Twelve years ago, how many people doubted that America was ready to elect its first black President?  I'm sure you can think of many, equally good, examples.

So the answer to your question about Elizabeth's electability is what Bill Goldman said about the movie business:  "Nobody knows anything."

The only person who is absolutely, definitely electable is the person who was elected yesterday.

So - if nobody knows who is electable - why don't we forget speculating about that, and focus instead on another question:  Who would make the best President?

Senator, I don't know how to translate my answer into a form that could be used by someone new to politics - a first-time canvasser or a young citizen in an Iowa caucus room.  As noted, I have certain acquired skills which command a hearing.  But I believe this is the true answer to the question.  Your staff will be able to find versions of my answer that suit different volunteers, but that's the message.

There is, however, another aspect to the question of electability which deserves attention - and a good deal of caution.  Your own advisors - your staff - need thoroughly to purge themselves of any concerns they may harbor about your electability.  Those concerns must be exorcised.  Your staff must put all doubts about electability entirely out of their heads.

And so must you.

Because, until that happens, there will always be a danger - a propensity to want to package you in some way intended to make you more appealing to the public.  In other words, when your staff, your advisors, your pollsters - even you yourself - question your electability, there will always be the temptation to remake yourself into someone more electable. 

And this can lead to embarrassing - or even fatal - mistakes.

The most tragic recent example of this was the transformation of Al Gore into a wooden, almost robotic parody of himself during the campaign of 2000.  I've seen Al speak to a large crowd at his Climate Reality training in Denver two years ago.  He was warm, enthusiastic, and energetic.  If that version of Al Gore had run for President in 2000, there would have been no George W. Bush presidency - and much of recent history would have gone very differently.

Senator, you are all you need to be to win the Presidency, and to be a great President.  Not just good.  Great.  Top Five great.

You, and the people around you, need to know that.  Do not let them package you.  The next time you go to the fridge to get yourself a beer, let it be because you're thirsty after a long day of campaigning - not because someone decided it made you seem "folksy".

You are who you are.  We haven't met, but I sense that you probably feel at your best as a classroom teacher - or as a Senator who is functioning as an educator.  I often say that you remind me of that wonderful high school teacher - everyone had one - who opened complex ideas to her students, and made them feel smart about understanding those ideas.  The teacher who didn't talk down to her students, but lifted them up. 

Whenever I say that, people nod their heads.  They see it, too.

If that good teacher is the real you, that's a wonderful persona for a President.  Lincoln used that same skill-set - which he acquired by educating small-town juries about complex legal and factual issues - to lead the Republic through the dark days of the Civil War.

But whether I'm right or wrong about that, you know who you are.  Trust that.  Trust yourself.  Tell your staff they must do the same thing.

Most of all, forget electability.  We'll all know if you were electable on November 4, 2020.

In the meanwhile, be yourself - and devote your energies to learning more about who we are.

Thanks for your consideration.

Getting to Yes...

It's been a long time since I did sales work.  In my acting days - my mid-to-late 40s - there were summers when I didn't have a gig.  For several of those summers, I worked as a telemarketer for the Richmond (Virginia) Symphony.

Telemarketing is hard work, but you learn a lot.  Mainly, you learn how to close - which is an essential skill in our sales-oriented society.  No matter what your vocation or avocation, sooner or later, life is going to require that you find strategies for getting people overcome their reluctance to say "Yes".

For citizens volunteering in political campaigns, such strategies and skills are absolutely essential.

Yet, surprisingly, most citizens who don't practice politics for a living find it difficult to go from a polite, cautious political chat to actually pressing a fellow citizen to commit - even though commitment is the name of the game.  Sending a small donation, putting a bumper sticker on your car, signing up to do something - anything - to help out.  These small, first steps are how undecided voters become active citizens, fully invested in a campaign.

And invested citizens are the ones who will do the hard work of GOTV ("get-out-the-vote") at election time - the hard work that spells the difference between victory and defeat.

This afternoon, I struck up a conversation with a nice lady who was visiting Cannon Beach with her husband. Somehow, we got around to 2020, and I told the lady I had become a volunteer for Elizabeth Warren, with the initial duty of being the campaign's organizer in Clatsop County, Oregon.  (Again, for those who don't know our state, Clatsop County is where the address label would go, if Oregon was an envelope.)

The lady replied that she really liked and admired Elizabeth - then stopped, the unspoken word "but" hovering in the air.

And I surprised myself.  I don't usually turn a friendly chat into a political moment, but this lady was clearly smart, thoughtful, and professional.  She was the sort of person you want on your team - no matter what the task.  So I said...

"And what's the but?"

The but, for her, was electability.  Specifically, the concern that America might not be ready to elect a woman to the presidency.  So I smiled and said:

"You know, I've been in politics - on and off - my whole life.  And I'm always amazed that people think they can predict who will win or lose an election.  Because for me, what William Goldman* said about the movie business is equally true of politics:  'Nobody knows anything.'

"In 2008, did you think this country was ready to elect a black man President?  I didn't."

She smiled, then replied, "And I never thought we'd elect Donald Trump.  I couldn't believe that happened."

And I repeated, "That's because nobody knows anything.  We can't predict.  So to me, it makes more sense to just do what I think is right."

Then I looked at her, a quietly impressive, charming woman you would trust - in five minutes - with anything.  "If you think America isn't ready to elect a woman president, how do you make it ready?  The only way I can see is by doing it.  If we don't nominate women, it continues to be impossible.  Once we elect one, it's suddenly been possible all along."

The conversation went on from there, but my new friend left with a Warren bumper sticker and a smile.  I'm not 100% sure, but I'm guessing that sticker is on her bumper very soon.  Because she seemed to have given herself permission to do what she wanted to do anyway - support the candidate she believes would be the best president.

She just had to get past the "electability" issue - which, really, is no issue at all when you admit that you don't know anything.  Because nobody knows anything.

Whoever you're backing, I hope this will help.  If nothing else, it will save you hundreds of hours listening to, watching, or reading the predictions of "experts" who have no more chance of being right than they have of predicting a coin toss.

Politics is fascinating stuff.  And one reason is because - in William Goldman's words - Nobody knows anything.

Think about it.

_____

*  William Goldman is the screenwriter responsible for, among others, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Princess Bride.  The quote is the basis of his best-selling book, Adventures in the Screen Trade.

A View from Exile

As we enter the active phase of a presidential election fight - a campaign about which I will be writing often (d.v.) - new readers of this gazette deserve to be brought up-to-date on one important fact about the author.

I am a man without a party.

Growing up in a political family of Virginia Democrats, I waited until finishing law school before steering my own political course.  Though I'd gone into practice with my father - a lawyer-legislator whom I greatly revered - I knew I was a progressive Republican at heart.  Drawing my inspiration from a tradition which reached its apogee in the vital times of Teddy Roosevelt, I hoped that modern conditions would make possible a revival of TR's assertive, confident brand of progressive nationalism.  All my personal ambitions focused on such a revival.

So, in 1978, I joined the GOP.  While holding appointive office under Republican Governor John Dalton, I dared to campaign actively for John Warner for the US Senate - against Dick Obenshain, the darling of Virginia's right-wing, Reaganite Republicans.  Obenshain won that nomination fight, dying shortly afterward in a small-plane crash while campaigning.  Warner replaced him on the ballot and went on to serve with distinction for thirty years.

Two years later - when Reagan forces took decisive control of the national and state GOP - I resigned from the party.  A year later, I was driven from office, and turned myself into a high school history teacher.

But, despite several efforts to re-invent myself as a Democrat, I have never really made the transition.  I'm simply not a Democrat - and probably never will be - for three reasons.

• My strategic ideas render me uncomfortable with a party which is, and has always been, more of a coalition of competing identity groups than a cause.  The Democrats' various groups perpetually struggles for influence, short-term gain, and the realization of personal ambition.  The Democrats have no unifying body of principles - no allegiance to anything like the Founders' notion of the commonwealth.  And that is essential to me.

• My relatively fortunate life experiences have ill-fitted me to be at ease in a coalition of groups which work from competing narratives of exclusion and/or victimization - and my education in history makes me suspect that any government run by the tribunes of society's least-favored elements will prove short-lived, ineffectual, and costly.

• My understanding of our Constitution doesn't square with the Democratic Party's historic obsession with presidential leadership - and consequent neglect of the potential of the legislative branch.

But of course, since the Reaganite takeover of the GOP, I couldn't possibly remain a Republican.

While I've made fitful efforts to refashion myself as a Democrat, I've never even tried to rejoin the GOP.  The Republican Party has become the party of bigotry, superstition, ignorance, and greed.  If Donald Trump personifies the worst aspects of the GOP - at least, so far - he is only the last instance of a decline which runs back through George W. Bush (and his puppet-master, Dick Cheney), Newt Gingrich, and Ronald Reagan - and eventually to Dick Nixon.

And there's no reason to think the rot will not continue.  If there are worse men - or women - than Donald Trump, today's GOP will find them, nominate them, and try to elect them.

Observers such as Tim Alberta (American Carnage) argue that this process of Republican decay runs back a decade.  As a Virginian with a sense of history, I could see the process taking place in 1978 - and triumphing in the summer of 1980.  I didn't need to stick around to participate in what followed.  The triumph of the Reaganites marked the death of the Party of Lincoln.

Ronald Reagan might have been a nice enough fellow - if somewhat dim - but his Virginia supporters included a phalanx of segregationist die-hards from the Byrd wing of the state's Democratic Party.    The massive influx of Dixiecrat Southern segregationists - and the simultaneous influx of Bryanite Midwestern and Southern evangelicals - transformed the Republican Party into a second, darker version of the Democratic Party.

For progressive and centrist Republicans, the only options were to stay "loyal" and be slowly, inexorably corrupted and degraded - or to leave and make the best of it.

So, in 1980, I left - becoming an independent who longs for a party which does not exist.  That is where I remain today.  As a patriot, I do what I can - when I have the heart - to help the better sort of Democrat win an election against the more execrable sort of Republican.

I am doing that right now, as an active volunteer coordinator for Elizabeth Warren in Oregon, my new home state. Elizabeth Warren, after all, is a commonwealth-minded progressive - and a former Republican - just as I am.

But if Senator Warren has found a way to be a Democrat, I have lived - and will almost certainly die - a man without a party.

Everything I'll be writing here comes from that grim - but I hope, not bitter - perspective.

To: EAW (Memo 2: The Long Game)

Senator Warren,

Following up on my previous memo, I'd like to address general election strategy as part of your strategy to win the Democratic nomination.

I needn't remind you that long, contested nomination battles usually force the winning candidate into awkward postures before she or he inevitably "pivots" to general election mode.  It's an old, old story.

No doubt, some timid souls are already advising you to moderate your positions and plans, lest you be driven too far to the left in the nomination contest.  That is not my advice.  Rather, I think you should position yourself now to bring the party together - and specifically, to bring this large field of candidates together - once you are the nominee.  In the process, you will be able to fine-tune your present positions as part of the process of unifying the party.

In my previous memo, I suggested an approach to winning the withdrawal and endorsement of candidates currently lagging in the polls and in fundraising.  As you may recall, my suggestion was that you find ways of signalling your desire to build a Government using the talents of many of your present competitors, by citing the example of Abraham Lincoln, as set forth in Doris Kearns' Goodwin's Team of Rivals.

As a cautionary note, I also suggested that your reference to Lincoln's cabinet-making take a humble tone,  emphasizing the caliber of the field.  Rather than suggesting that you would be the one doing the team-building, "If nominated, I would...", you would say, "Whoever wins the nomination would be well-advised to consider the example of Abraham Lincoln..."

For a lagging candidate, the subtext is the same.  Elizabeth Warren will value your involvement in shaping the next administration.  If you decide drop out, keep this in mind in deciding whom to endorse.

Today, I want to expand on that idea.  In the first debate, you were very much the adult in the room.  It was interesting to see Kamala Harris adopt that role on the second night - and take it a step further, by calling down her rivals when everyone seemed to be talking at once.  That moment was, in my view, even more impressive than her swordplay with Joe Biden.  It sent the message that Harris has the personal authority - the gravitas - to act as the party's unifier.

Obviously, you won't want to concede that status to her, so I suggest this.  Introduce the Team of Rivals references as soon as possible.  But also, start working in the suggestion that - whoever wins the nomination - it would be worthwhile for her or him to convene the entire group of candidates for a few days of talks on both policy and strategy.

You might say something like this:  "I've heard such a wealth of ideas from this group!  I have plans, and they are solid, detailed plans - but I learn something every day from one of my fellow candidates.  I think the eventual nominee could greatly improve her or his plans by bringing the whole field together for a few days to share ideas.  Once we're past the stage of being rivals, we need to become a team."

In my view, this accomplishes three things: 

First, it suggests that you are the adult in the room, perfectly prepared to unify the party as soon as the nomination battle is over - and possessing the gravitas to do so.

Second, it builds on the the suggestion that you would welcome some of  your rivals in your Cabinet, or in other positions of importance.

Third - and this is vital - it suggests that you are not the left-wing candidate, but - as the nominee - would occupy a unifying position in the heart of the Party.  That you are prepared to listen to every one of your rivals in improving your plans.

This will give you more flexibility when it comes time to pivot to general election mode.  Without committing yourself to modifying a single item of your program, you give yourself the option of tweaking it.  By inviting suggestions from your former rivals - across the board - you bring them on board, while retaining full control of your program.  Should you, as the nominee, choose to incorporate some of their suggestions, you would do so - not as matter of political calculation - but as the act of a unifier and team-builder.  

And in your case, I strongly believe that is a fair representation of who you truly are - highly principled, but a believer in teamwork and consensus.  It's what I would expect of you as President.

I hope these thoughts will be of some value as you go forward.  Thank you for your attention.

To: EAW (Memo 1)

Re:  Thinning the Herd.

Senator Warren,

Congratulations on a thoroughly impressive performance at the June 26th debate.  You did everything you had to do to maintain and enhance your standing in the polls.  You were fortunate, I think, in your draw.  The June 27th debate was far less suited to your style.  As the only front-runner on the stage Wednesday night, you dominated the field without having to raise your voice.  An excellent start!

After the debate, and tonight's campaign contribution reporting deadline, some of your competitors will begin to find themselves wondering how much longer they can go on.  A consistent 0% to 1% in the polls can be discouraging, especially as the DNC's criteria for participation in future debates tighten.

Given these considerations, as I see it, your best move would be to start finding ways to "thin the herd".  It might be that you could, yourself, persuade one or more of your rivals to drop out of the race and endorse your candidacy.

Obviously, this would have to be done with great tact.  Egos are involved.  Ambitious hopes must be surrendered.  And of course, you certainly don't want to appear presumptuous.  Still, as and where you have the personal contacts, it might be worthwhile to find opportunities to seek the support of some of your rivals over the next month or so.

I chose that word, rivals, for a very specific reason.  I assume you have read Doris Kearns Goodwin's celebrated Team of Rivals, about Lincoln's decision to invite most of his Republican rivals into his Cabinet.  I think it might be useful to begin working references to that book into your stump speech.

You might say that you have been very impressed with the caliber of the Democratic field - both those who debated and some who (like Senator Bullock and Congressman Moulton) were excluded.  And that you think - regardless of who ends up as the nominee - the next Democratic President would do well to follow Lincoln's example.  There are a number of candidates whose understanding of specific issues, and passion for those issues, would make them invaluable in the next Cabinet.

A case in point would be Governor Jay Inslee of Washington.  He is justly passionate about climate change.  He's quite articulate on the subject.  He has been repeatedly rebuffed by the DNC in his pursuit of a debate specifically dedicated to that issue.  By now, the Governor probably knows that he is not going to be the nominee, but he won't want to drop out until he's assured that this issue is placed front-and-center in this campaign - right through November, 2020 - and that the next President places it at the top of her agenda.

Perhaps someone on your team has contacts with someone on the Governor's staff.  Perhaps you could find a way to talk with him, one-on-one, to assure him that you would value his input, if he decides to get out of the race.  Perhaps there are gestures you could make in that direction - such as advocating that the EPA be made a Cabinet department.  His support would be helpful in Washington, a Super Tuesday state.  It might also create momentum for other candidates to consider dropping out to join your team.

And, of course, your team could learn something from him about specific environmental policies that could become part of your growing program.

To be sure, this strategy - finding ways to encourage the 0% and 1% candidates to endorse you - is not a general prescription.  You are better off with some candidates remaining in the field, for a number of reasons.

You should be happy, for example, for Joe Biden to stay around for as long as he cares to.  Despite his lead in the polls, he isn't going to be the nominee.  As you and other viable candidates become better known, his support will bleed away.  But the longer he stays in, the longer he keeps the old-school "third way" Democrats from consolidating behind some perceived "moderate" who is more viable.

Why do I assert so boldly that Joe won't be the nominee?  Because he's tired.  He lacks passion and vision.  He reminds me of Dick Gephardt in 2004.  I was in New Hampshire during the last week of 2003 - volunteering for Howard Dean - and I saw Gephardt work a bagel shop in Corcord, NH.  It was clear he was doing a victory lap - enjoying a "last hurrah".  He was the past, not the future.  Same with old Joe.

You should also be extremely happy for Bernie to stick around, even though his supporters would probably migrate to you if he dropped out..  My guess is that Bernie will long retain the support of his true believers, but that he will have a hard time winning significant new support.  He has no new ideas.  No new rhetoric, for that matter.  He's like a classic rock band on tour - still a great show, but basically all you're going to hear is his greatest hits.

Still, as long as Bernie stays in, he does two things for you.  First, makes you appear more moderate.  (As you are, of course, but you know what they say about appearances and reality in politics.)  Second - if you'll pardon my candor here, ma'am - he makes you look younger.  In future debates, you'll probably end up standing next to Mayor Pete at some point.  Well, he makes us all look ancient.  Can't help that.  But for now, Bernie is great for you.

Anyway, neither Biden nor Bernie is your real challenge.  Barring the unexpected, your ultimate competition will likely be Kamala Harris and Mayor Pete.  Joe will fade, slowly, but inexorably.  Bernie won't gain new support.  Cory Booker might pick up some adherents, as might Julian Castro.  We'll see.  Still, I think you wind up in a three-horse race coming out of Iowa and New Hampshire.

So - if you'll excuse the presumption - your game plan for now is to continue doing what you're doing.  Talk up your well-researched, well-defined plans.  (Not too many more of these, for now, okay?  Let's be sure people understand what you've already proposed.) 

Add in references to the "team of rivals" idea.  Let that idea work quietly on the 0% and 1% candidates and their supporters.

To the extent possible, be alert for opportunities to chat with those lagging candidates.  As a rule, any marginal candidate you can persuade to drop out and endorse you is a bonus.

Finally, study Kamala and Mayor Pete.  They are your real rivals, down the road.  If all goes well, and you pull ahead in the  delegate count, Kamala would be an excellent running mate for you.   So would Mayor Pete - but I rather like the idea of a two-woman ticket.  It's never been done, and women will be the key to this election. 

Why not?

The Debates: Mostly Good News.

I'm probably not alone in feeling that watching two two-hour, ten-candidate "debates" on consecutive nights was a bit much, but we all seem to have gotten through it. 

The DNC decided to stay with the dreadful mass-debate format, which means, really, that we don't get debates so much as something like an extremely nerdy class in high school where every student is trying to get the teacher's attention in order to score brownie points.

Since the ultimate winner of the Democratic debates, primaries, caucuses and conventions is going to have to take on the Current Occupant in one-on-one debates, wouldn't it have made more sense to start this process with something like a World Cup format?  By grouping the candidates in fours for round-robin, one-on-one debates - pre-recorded and released all at once - the DNC might have given us some idea how the contenders perform in the format that will actually matter in Fall, 2020.

But the DNC will do what it does.  As my old Dad would have said, "Those folks could f**k up a two-car funeral."  As long as the Republicans are the only alternative, we all have to live with that.

Aside from the format - and the masterful job done by NBC in trying to manage ten candidates with five moderators - the result of the two nights was surprisingly good.

First of all, people watched.  All sorts of numbers are flying around - and with so many means of live and delayed viewing available, it's hard to be sure - but clearly, many millions of Americans took time out on two midsummer nights to hear twenty candidates talking about an election which takes place in sixteen months.  That, in itself, argues a high level of interest and civic commitment.

And, despite the awkward format and the muddled moderation, what they got was two reasonably informative, largely civil, and surprisingly interesting evenings.

The civility owes much to the on-stage presence of two formidable women.  On Night One, Elizabeth Warren - the only top-tier candidate present - exercised a quiet command over the tendency of other candidates to engage in attention-seeking.  (Okay, with the occasional exception of de Blasio and Delaney, trying desperately from the opposite wings to generate some interest.)

On Night Two, Kamala Harris emerged as the Teacher, firmly calling the rest to order when things threatened to get out-of-hand.

It's easy to talk about leadership.  It's interesting when it shows up in the moment.  On their respective nights, Senators Warren and Harris showed the country something.

One great thing about the first-round debates was that they seem likely to have eliminated about two-thirds of the contenders.  I don't want to speak too soon.  This was one, two-part event, and we have a long way to go.  But I sense that the American people - those not still under the spell of the Orange One - want to narrow this field down quickly and unite behind a champion.

Pretty clearly, that has started to happen.  On Night Two, the campaign's two front-runners - both elderly white men - stumbled badly.  For Joe Biden, a combination of characteristic vagueness and a shrewd take-down by Senator Harris might well have marked the beginning of the end.

Biden has never been the right candidate for 2020.  Like George H. W. Bush in 1992, he seems to be running out of a sense of entitlement, but without any real passion or sense of mission.  His viability as a front-runner has been based on his high poll numbers among African-American voters - a crucial bloc within the Democratic coalition.  Kamala Harris just gave black voters a younger, more exciting, and much more relatable option.

Bernie Sanders did better than Old Joe, but it probably wasn't enough.  The thing we love about Bernie is that he never changes - which is a great thing in a tribune of the people, but not so great in a President.  No one since George Washington - for whom the job description in Article II was written - has entered the Presidency ready from Day One.  Presidents have to grow on-the-job.

Bernie, like King Lear's Kent, seems "too old to learn".  His faithful supporters will stick with him, but their numbers seem unlikely to grow much, either.  Bernie has done something wonderful for this country.  He has brought his ideas front-and-center and made it possible for serious progressives to aspire to a chance to govern.  But there are younger - or at least, younger-seeming - candidates ready to shape those ideas into laws, policies, and executive orders.  Bernie's time has probably come and gone.

At least half of the field will probably never have a time.  Most viewers came away wondering why some of them ever thought they might actually have a shot.  Indeed, some were so bad that they served as comic relief.  De Blasio, doing his best version of the loud New Yorker trying get his order taken at the deli without waiting for his number to be called.  Hickenlooper trying, without success, to string together a complete sentence.  Delaney channeling Les Nessman.  Marianne Moonbeam channeling Yoko Ono.

You have to wonder why some of these characters were in the debates, while two more legitimate contenders - named Seth and Bullock, for you Deadwood fans - were sidelined.

Whatever.  The sooner we all stop sending in dollars to the no-hopers - and unsubscribe from their email lists - the sooner they will get the message and drop out, leaving us with a smaller field.

And this is said with all due respect for those who - while they have no path to the White House in  2020 - might have better prospects in future.

There is other, useful work to be done in this cycle.  Removing the Current Occupant from the White House is vital - but equally so is removing Mitch McConnell, or at least reducing him to Minority Leader.

There are people in this race who should be running against incumbent Republican Senators - starting with Beto O'Rourke.  Others might, with a well-timed, full-throated endorsement of a more viable contender, earn themselves a seat in the next President's Cabinet.  Jay Inslee, for example, might do well at EPA - but not if he holds on too long.

Who knows, the next President might even create a new Cabinet office - to run, say, the Department of Oneness.  And offer it to... but let's be kind.

One final bit of good news:  For almost the past week, Americans - and millions around the world - have not been talking about the Current Occupant.  And that's vital.  His whole power comes from his ability to make himself the center of attention.  That's all he's got.

He's not that bright.  He's not that focused.  He knows almost nothing.  He has remarkably little energy or commitment to a job that demands an enormous amount of both.  All he has is the awareness that his name is constantly on everyone's lips.

When that stops happening, he starts to lose his power.  And probably, his mind.

The more we focus on the legitimate Democratic challengers, the better.