The Botched Democracy Offensive in Philly

Biden’s case for democracy was too grouchy, partisan, tone deaf to Trump, and an underestimation of his own strengths.


“Know thy enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles, 
you will never be defeated. 

When you are ignorant of the enemy but know yourself, 
your chances of winning or losing are equal. 

If ignorant, both of your enemy and of yourself, 
you are sure to be defeated in every battle.”

Sun Tsu, The Art of War


Last week at Independence Hall I wasn’t expecting eloquence. I was hoping for a spirited defense of democracy from the Commander-in-Chief. But the speech lacked inspiration along with an effective understanding of his adversary.

It was especially painful to hear the focus-group tested applause lines against his opponent’s gift for authentic speech. The sense that his predecessor is incapable of reading a room through a teleprompter because his gut can process in real time. It’s uncanny how the former President can access the darkest recesses of our animal spirits with the slightest sneer of accusation. 

The simple act of calling out Donald Trump puts President Biden at an immediate deficit. That’s how fast Trump can deflect a punch and tank the voice of reason.

Flashback to September 29, 2020 and the debate stage in Cleveland. 1.2 million ballots have been cast. Biden is scribbling some zingers outside the margins while Trump flaps his predatorial wings and pounces on the dead air of Biden’s hesitations. His facts are inventions and his opinions never stay in one place long enough to be his. But it’s all personal. From the constant interruptions to the name-calling, who could doubt the sincerity of his own self-regard? What could be more convincing than that?

Nothing changes after the shouting ends. There is no advantage in scorecarding the lies or slow-rolling the swamp hypocrisies. That fans more oxygen for feeding his bull-charging aggression. It certainly doesn’t come from wresting the national stage away with investigations and court rooms. His own insatiable preening for fame remains to be paraded at a time of his choosing. 

All the more solemnity here for the moment two years later when Biden goes on the offense. It falls flat. His rejection of “MAGA Republicans” sounds canned, shrill, and yes, divisive. He comes out swinging with the Labor Day bravado of a machine boss. He manages a left hook at the inviting target. It lands nowhere and connects to no one.

Why? 

The Speech That Missed Its Mark

First there was the defense of democratic ideals. Biden’s delivery was devoid of the semantic honesty of democratic-republic ideals. It may not be true majority-wins democracy. But it the actual audience Biden was trying to reach with his affirmation. It is the system worth defending.

The grandeur of a national address was undercut by the melting pot of deplorables Biden was inclined to frame: Our fellow American opposition. There were no bargains being struck, bargains being weighed, or channels cleared opened. Was this yet another “let’s-just-be-reasonable” overture from the political center/left? Was democracy-or-bust a white flag shot full of holes?

There was no middle ground when Obamacare passed the Senate in 2010 without a single GOP vote. There was no prior expectation of a public healthcare system, so “reasonable” was never on the table. And how did that work out for us? How did his opponents respond to Obama’s assertion that universal healthcare is the right thing to do? Did they propose a truce? Aahhh … nope. They called in the calvary.

A dozen red states rejected Medicaid expansion as if those federal funds were minted in Act Blue donations, and not Treasury greenbacks. In fact, the free and fair elections of 2010 and 2014 suggest otherwise. Democratic voters sat on their hands while the Tea Party seethed, the dark money flowed, and the Federalist Society played the long game. 

Remember the midterm shellacking that elevated Mitch McConnell to Senate Majority leader? Biden’s memory is challenged in this way: McConnell’s obstruction strategy was the procedural expression of a status quo-rejecting red wave that made little distinction between its radical fringes and mainstream figures.

All this was but preamble. Elevator music. It was the trailer before the theatrical release of the main feature. Cue Trump’s step onto Golden Escalator for a rough and tumble ride into an America hellscape of black crime, brown illegals, freeloading Western allies, and unguarded borders. The other GOP candidates were soon swallowed, stage makeup and all, by the imposing pulpit-shaped mouth of America’s leading personal brand influencer. 

Many Americans may harbor strong feelings about Biden’s Presidency – while remaining somewhat indifferent to the many himself. Trump, on the other hand, has developed a personal relationship with every voter. So strong, that many may have been non-voters in the Bush and Obama years. No one turns voters out quite like Trump.

No one’s making the case that there’s no point in voting since they’re all the same. The point may be obvious but it’s rarely acknowledged: Having a personal relationship with Donald Trump is not based on reverence or contempt of the former President. It just is.

– God’s wrecking ball?

-Dumpster fire in a suit?

Either way, two aspects of the Trump Presidency stand out: 

Superpower: His ability to crowd reporters, arguments, and adversaries off the political stage is unprecedented. No neutral referee will dim the limelight on Trump’s facial highlights. Who invited them anyway? The cameras are his escorted guests. They gawk up this explosive spectacle. First his grievances. Now close-up on his rapid-fire condemnations, soaring above a thick, convulsing cloud of gaslighting. The monster truck of all debating strategies.

Achilles heel: His unfitness for the Presidency is only more true today than when the Electoral College rolled the dice in his favor six years ago. He had a full term to grow into the stature of the office and he diminished it. He went from being unqualified and ticked off, to clueless and livid, and ultimately, to a disengaged, chaotic, and ineffectual leader. He was by all accounts from competent members of his own branch, a colossal administrative failure. 

The Speech Biden Should Have Made

Why Biden decided to call out Trump with no acknowledgement of his foe’s considerable strengths and weaknesses is unpardonable.

He could have played the greatest sucker punch known to the waging of all winning campaigns – the charm offensive. Once showing himself to be the more respectful, calmer, and reasonable of the two geriatric adults, Biden could play to his own strength, landing a blow where Trump is least equipped to counter-punch. Why? Because there is no defense for his record at the helm of a centralized government as its unitary executive. Unless… your goal is to do irreparable harm to that institution. 

Here’s what Biden could have said:

Donald Trump is a reality TV star that used his run for office in 2016 to elevate his brand. His skillful use of broadcast and social media led to his unexpected win over Hillary Clinton. It was a victory that Mr. Trump himself did not see coming. During his time in office he continued to dominate headlines, talk rings around his opponents, and ran his White House much like his own business operations. 

To this day he never quits. His tenacity is awesome. He remains a tireless fighter. For his own interests. Priority number one for our elected leaders are to enact policies and programs that help our fellow citizens. Priority number one for this guy isn’t pay forward. It’s payback. It’s retribution. It’s about settling scores with any elected official on either side who places the act of effective governing above personal loyalty to him.

81 million Americans expressed this through the power of the ballot. They understood that he was not interested in their healthcare, their safety, their roads, and their future. Policies and programs bored him to tears. Serving all Americans was off the table. A reality TV superbrand and influencer did what all showmen do. He put on a show. And I think we can all agree. It was a remarkable performance.

To this day, many of our citizens find Mr. Trump a dazzling performer. There are numerous platforms capable of hosting Mr. Trump and reinforcing the strong connection with his many followers. That arrangement, my fellow Americans, has nothing to do with running a country. And we would be well-advised for Mr. Trump to express his influence as a star entertainer, not in the conduct of an office he was never prepared for, or even interested in assuming.

Joseph R. Biden,
46th President of the United States

Could a more gifted orator still disarm Trump with some softer rhetoric? Railing public support against future fascist-like leaders may enlist arguments that can bypass pride-constrained men like Trump completely. Who knows? With some poise, and some pauses to anchor us, we could arrive at the obvious but unstated defense Biden was mounting:

I’m that guy. I’m that competent, boring head of a bureaucracy who can deliver us back to the cadences of stability. Not because the future is docile and predictable. Not because I even know what to say but because I know how to listen. I have the capacity to change minds, including my own. And the conflicts we face are not to be conquered but brokered by someone who understands when the government steps in and when it stands down.

This Political Moment

A more subtle defense of democracy could connect with some of those MAGA Republicans who reject Biden’s terms and choices, but share the same collective concern. The wrong track we’re on is a collision course. The winners have no use for losers. That’s the sound of one side vanquishing the other. We we needed to hear was a call for a renewed patriotism. It is not a campaign pledge.

They say that to know yourself and your enemy is the surest way to victory. But how many of us have the perspective-taking to do that work? How many of us have a studied and reflective understanding of what our opponents are trying to achieve? It’s hard to pull off. Especially when we’re always tuning into our own wants, needs, and the anxieties of having our buttons pushed. 

Who has the mental capacity to hold opposable thoughts, let alone opposition desires that reflect their actual ambitions? It might be even harder than it looks. It’s only a 50/50 chance if we know ourselves and not our opponents. We’ve been living in 50/50 land for the balance of the 21st Century with claims on a leadership that feels as distant as any form of national unity.

These are not passing considerations. They’re defining and they are binding.

Plausible Disinformation Belief

It’s no longer the personal story of the hero but the political reality of the all-powerful where the fantasy life of today’s escapism is scripted, cast, and streamed. Movie fantasy? Meet video game.

What Happens When The Escapists Are Greeted As Liberators?

Inside the House chamber, lawmakers, staff aides and journalists were told that tear gas had been deployed and to grab an emergency hood from under his or her chair. Credit: Andrew Harnik/Associated Press

Prolog

Much has been said about America’s mud wrestling with media disinformation and political dysfunction. Much has been debated about the competing versions of what America stands for and what she stands against. This clash of narratives is nothing new. It comes straight from central casting and sucks your news feed dry.

What is new is a switcheroo between two competing versions of how Americans view themselves through the social histories that form of our American identity.

One is the ideal of the American dream. The other we’ll call the American hallucination. The willful removal of context from the telling of dark, American stories. Those are tales where backwards thinking slips out the back door. Casting retroactive judgments on moving pieces of the human chessboard is not just some parlor game. It’s what’s on the news menu. It’s the future of entertainment.

Retrofitting a movie ending around changing attitudes is one way to explain the wholesale rejection of the moral codes at work guiding their time-appropriate behaviors. Another is to say this is what happens to a culture that witnessed the death of the American dream. On our watch die she did. We grew up in the promise of an American dream that was within potential reach. Of which reachers? That would be the upwardly mobile as-in … anyone with modest means and slightly immodest ambitions. We all knew the dream was both imagined, and as real as our devotion to it.

Yes, it was a marketing ploy. Not everyone would rise accordingly. And yet, shouldering those hopes would nurture our stamina. We will endure this recession. We will break out of this bust cycle. We’ll reach the point where it’s our money that’s being borrowed. The ultimate payback! Such were the trailers for the American dream that fired our young, professional imaginations. A generation later, that hope has dimmed if not extinguished for millennials gaping at mountains of student loan debt. Didn’t we get ourselves through school? Wrong question to be asking, Buddy.

They don’t root for the little guy because they know first-hand their chances of taking on Goliath or selling him their start-up is nil. Instead they’ve escaped to a world where the entire power structure is questioned. The elites and the brokers and the deciders are all accountable for the corruptions wrought by their abuse of this power.

It’s a power they neither earned nor amassed but simply inherited, thus bypassing any of the accountability associated with traditional channels of leadership and trust through public dialog. It’s no longer the personal story of the hero but the political reality of the all-powerful where the fantasy life of today’s escapism is scripted, cast, and streamed. Movie fantasy. Meet video game.

Smell Testing Standards

Melanie Griffith as Tess McGill on her morning commute.

Like you, my wife and I watch our share of streaming escapism. Like you, sometimes we’re Googling while we watch to determine empirical fact from artistic license. Recently we traveled back to our formative professional adult times and streamed the movie Working Girl (1988) starring Melanie Griffith, Harrison Ford, and Sigourney Weaver.

If your post boomer curiosity is unaroused, I guarantee there’s no spoilers worthy of your alerting. The implausible resolution of a lurching plot twist rests on a wobbly bed of screwball comedy formulas. These wacky, zany, turns of narrative have long since thinned out on the expired belief they could pass the smell test. There were three bands of smell test results:

      • Sweet success (first and foremost): that an audience could invest its betting money in a series of improbable events coming true.
      • Scent of a popular B movie (next and likeliest): that the guy gets the girl (or in this case) the girl gets the gig and that conviction could lift the emotional prospects of its audiences.
      • Cheap cologne grade (last and least): that the silver screen could suspend enough disbelief to make them forget their off-screen troubles. Sometimes for longer than the film. Imagine! Are your movie muscles still limber? Can you still go the distance?

The final elevator scene has more sleights of hand than a fire-eating juggler of vanishing card tricks. And yet the world surrounding that bank of corporate elevators is grounded in the same plausible backdrop that would greet any movie-goer on their commutes the following work day. The change that director Mike Nichols is foisting on us lives between the hearts and minds of a repentant but worthy protagonist. Melanie Griffith’s hometown character is in a double destiny reversal with her antagonist boss. A worldlier and coddled arch-rival played by Sigourney Weaver. Who do we root for? Nichols makes the decision for us.

Crowd Scenes of Today

Is It Safe to Go to the Movies? Tara Santora, Fatherly, September 14, 2020

In 2021’s collective mental landscape, snootiness is not only in. It’s the cost of even entering the one remaining form of advancement. Self-promotion is the last resort of scoundrels and ambitious claims on climbing today’s corporate, political, and cultural ladder. Our seething anger can’t be directed at the privileged few cutting the line of our promotion. We were never up for one in the first place. And we still have jobs. Even if it’s a full time job just figuring out how to hold the one we have. Besides, no one is especially interested in our inability to rise in station or settle a personal workplace score.

However, aiming our invective at the tribe who cut the line? Sublimating my shame with healthy dollops of contempt for the success I’ll never be? Now you’re talking. Permission to uncork, sir? It is the contagion that knows no flu season. Our addiction to indignation is transmitted via smart phone notifications. No surgical strike implied when the car drives over the curb. Nothing pedestrian about these protesters.

Wait! How did we get from the crowd scene shot in a lower Manhattan office lobby a generation ago to the white supremacist march on Charlottesville in 2017? What do our current political upheavals have to do with screwball comedies, cultural smell tests, or the aerosols dancing off our phone sceens?

    • Everything, if you’re streaming wholesale retakes of historic tragedies like Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Bastards or Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.
    • Plenty, if you’re rewinding to episode one of anything Ryan Murphy revisits on his $300 million tab from Netflix, or what Midge Maisel doles out to the knuckle-dragging GI Joe Schmoes in the smokey take-my-wife clubs .
    • A whole new backdrop to the Cold War once the viewer inserts heroine Beth Harmon into the cardboard cut-outs of gobsmacked prodigy bros and inscrutable Russians.

Bridge Construction Ahead

Tools of obliteration.

The point is to guide the viewer’s lust for justice to the obliteration of the bullies who tormented us through the 20th Century. The bridge leading back there is a fabrication that bypasses victims, heroes, and all history books that stand-in for the psychopathic reality hosts that set civilization on its heels.

    • Is a bridge back to the Twentieth Century the way to throw the cold water of reality on a Dorothy who mistakenly thought herself in Kansas …
      but that Kansas prohibited free and fair reproductive rights services?
    • Is it a bridge back to the Minutemen when San Francisco schools throw Paul Revere on the tinder of so many Confederate flags because of his mistreatment of Indians?
    • Is it a bridge back to the time when a white man’s country was his shining castle and everyone else new their respective roles and places? Who needs cancel culture when you can delete entire decades of coalition-building and consensus-making?

Does the retelling require the wholesale re-staging of our revisionism? A post racial past where open hearts and independent minds upstage inheritance, tribal rites, and skin tones?

Is that how social justice wins over individual liberty?

Is that how merit transcends birthright?

Are we sure we’ve persuaded our libertarian friends this is the way, past our open intolerance for one another?

And can 71 million Trump voters be fully culpable for their own alternative realities?

These are weighty deliberations for the most reasoned of actors and the most sensible of cultures. For the winner-take-all USA, it is a bridge too far for anyone expecting to meet solid ground upon its crossing.

2020 as Hindsight

In the screwball past, the audience could indulge in the implausible outcome, so long as the good guy was believable. Maybe a little more faith would enable us to fight the good fight long enough to prevail in our own reality series. But at least we had to power to change for the better.

That was the known quantity after the credits had rolled. Our current indulgence for these flights of historic fancy is the outcome of losing that faith. That expectation of a future we can have a hand in shaping, not just a present we’re preoccupied with enduring.

In the narrative, this was once centered on the change and growth of the protagonist. These days you don’t need to identify with the star. In fact if you stage an anti-hero your plot can beat up on the larger society without needing to identify with the star, as-in…

    • I don’t condone Walter White’s crimes in defense of providing for his meth empire family
    • I don’t sanction the use of waste removal consulting services for packing Tony Soprano’s adversaries in garbage bags
    • I don’t approve of Cersai Lannister’s power grab as much as I respect her dealing of bargaining chips. Would I despise a man any less?

But I do indulge with imposing my 2020 hindsight on the 1970s world — the same painted cloth of unyielding circumstance that hung behind the characters of my coming of age. The idea of switching out the social norms was no more conceivable than redirecting the crowd scenes in Working Girl off lower Manhattan. And into the East River.

Reality departures don’t mean that the reality keepers own the landing rights of reality’s return. It means that we must change and grow past where our own despair pacifies our anger and appeals to the notion of running out so many clocks. That would be the ultimate fiction and the breaking in the arc of histories yet to be written.

Talk is cheap. But shouting is even cheaper. Especially when it drowns out the opposition — the expense of listening.

And the cultural war prop room never closes for business.