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.

The Niagara Strategy

Today's topic is the one-way verticality of modern campaigning.  With the invention of the internet, we were supposed to be entering a new era of democracy - a flattening out of hierarchies in favor of more open and direct communication, where everyone could have a voice.

That didn't happen, of course - or at least, it didn't happen where it matters.  We ordinary mortals can communicate with each other about what we had for lunch, or how cute this kitty is.  But try getting in touch - personal touch - with a presidential candidate.  Unless you're willing to move to Iowa or New Hampshire, or applying for a job, good luck with that.  Campaigns no longer have mailing addresses or telephone numbers, and if you try to communicate by email or Twitter, you're basically just giving your fingers and thumbs a workout.

Which is surprising, really.  When I was a kid, my Dad was a politician - elected six times to the Virginia legislature - and rounding up volunteers was always a major part of the strategy.  As a candidate, you needed a fair number of volunteers to do the routine tasks that made up running for office.

Those were the days of electric typewriters, rolodexes, phone banks, and box after box of index cards, but campaigns found ways of staying in touch with people.  And not just from the top down.  Volunteers had access - on some level.  If you had an idea, a complaint, or an observation, there was someone willing to hear it - at least, until you proved yourself a crank or nutcase.

That's no longer how it works.  Campaign staffs are huge and professional.  That's one of the main reasons candidates need to raise so much money.  You need to pay people.  (If you're a Democrat, you need to provide health insurance and allow them to unionize - which is good, I suppose.)  All these professionals seem to be young.  They all have impressive resumes.  And they all talk to each other - but God help you if you're just a citizen with something to say.

Not, of course, that there's no communication.  Make a contribution or answer an inquiry from a campaign and - once they have your email address - you'll receive a torrent of information and requests for additional contributions.  They'll also invite your input - but only in terms of answers to questions posed by the campaign.  They know what they want to know - and that's all they want to know.

Which isn't surprising, really, given the mindset of the internet generation.  When you grow up doing research on the web - looking something up on Wikipedia, for example - it's not at all like it used to be.  In my youth, doing research - general research, scholarly research, legal research - involved going to a library and looking in books.

I realize that sounds old fashioned, but the great thing about that sort of research is that it sometimes led to happy accidents.  For example, if you aren't familiar with actual encyclopedias, one of the cool things is that - in addition to the exact entry you were looking for - there were other entries right before and after it.  Sometimes, you would end up reading several neighboring entries and learn something more interesting than what you wanted to know.  Sometimes, even more relevant.

As a college student, I got used the phenomenon of going into the "stacks" to find a book, and finding a much more useful book on the same shelf.  As a law student and young lawyer, I was astonished at how often legal research led me from the cases I thought I needed to cases that were far more persuasive - again, sometimes by chance or mere proximity.

But in a modern "data-driven" campaign, the professionals will only ask the questions they think matter - which means they will never encounter the question they never thought of.

And the sad thing is, when one of these people becomes President - we all must hope - they will continue to be surrounded by people who think they know all the questions, and therefore, all the possible answers.  Without the slightest chance of an actual new idea.

And that's what I call the "Niagara Strategy".  A modern campaign is set up to become a one-way flow of information and requests - from the top down.  If you're an ordinary citizen with an ordinary question - or even a brilliant insight - your chances of getting it heard are next to zero.

Candidates will tell you they're listening, but that's not really true.  Presidents have long lived inside a bubble.  Now, you only have to start running to enter that condition.

I don't know how you fix that.  I understand that Elizabeth Warren is calling small contributors - she has no other kind - at random.  That's something.  But odds most folks, getting an out-of-the-blue call from an amazing person like Senator Warren, will be too stunned and excited to remember what they would really want to say.

When he was President, and running a war to preserve the Union, Abraham Lincoln made it a point to open his doors regularly - for several hours - to receive anyone who was willing to stand in line outside the White House for a chance to talk with him.  Not just men, either.  He met a mother who had lost a husband and sons in the war, and wanted her last son home to do the plowing.  He met inventors with crazy, and not-so-crazy, ideas.  He met people who disagreed with him about the conduct of the war.

Lincoln's "public opinion baths" were a vital part of how he governed - and he was doing something a lot more important than anything going on at present.  (Except climate change, of course.  We'll see how many candidates really make that an issue.)  But the last President to do something like that was the fictional Jed Bartlet, with his chief of staff's "Big Block of Cheese Days".  I don't see much chance anyone out there today will renew the practice.

And I'm not unaware that most candidates are holding town meetings.  Good for them.  Town meetings are a great opportunity for people to get the feeling that candidates are hearing their unique concerns.  But that's not really how they work.

When I was working in John Warner's first campaign for Senate - as a volunteer - I saw him come before some civic association, take out his speech, toss it aside, pull of his suit coat, and ask for questions.  Broad-shouldered John would roll up his sleeves and say. "To heck with this speech. I want to wrestle with your questions."  And every question he got, he had an answer - complete with statistics and facts.  I was very impressed.

So I asked an aide how he dared to open himself up that way.  And the aide told me:  "There's no risk. We've done extensive polling.  There are seventeen questions a person might ask that anyone else in the room is likely to care about.  And John has memorized his answers to those seventeen questions.

"If anyone asks about something else, it's either going to be an obscure question or something nutty.  Either way, no one else in the room will care a hoot in hell about it.  So John will furrow his brow and say, 'I'm sorry.  I haven't done my research on that important question, but I promise - if you'll give your contact information to my aide over there - I'll get you a letter within the week.

"And we would send that letter.  Which satisfies the person asking, and pleases everyone else, who doesn't care about that unfamiliar topic and wants to get to their concerns, which will almost always be one of the seventeen questions John is prepared to answer."

Which is pretty much what will happen at a town meeting.  Indeed, with TV cameras on, most citizens will avoid asking a really unique question, for fear of making fools of themselves.  They'll ask something safe.  Which, of course, keeps the candidates safe, too.

Politics.  Love it or hate it - and any intelligent person must do both - a lot of it has always been a show.  But back before the internet - and the Niagara Strategy - there was a lot more opportunity for a volunteer or a concerned citizen to get a new idea, or a new question, in front of somebody in position to do something.

It seems that's no longer the world.