Brat Summer Is Over

And politicians should answer questions

Over the years, I’ve faced my fair share of opprobrium. When you write enough, people will get angry. It’s part of the job; it’s not one I necessarily welcome, but it’s one I accept. If you are going to write meaningfully and have a point of view, it’s impossible for everyone to agree with you, to sing hosannas and such.

Usually, I can anticipate controversy. When I wrote on the dubiousness of certain Covid restrictions or the reality of the war in Ukraine, for example, I knew I was heading for trip wires. I understood I was staking out ground that, at the minimum, wouldn’t put me in league with many on the liberal-left—those who read me most. That’s fine. I welcome disagreement and debate.

Sometimes, pieces I assume will instigate or alienate do not. My essay on the vanishing male in contemporary literature did not lead to much backlash at all. It’s plausible, if I published it three or four years ago, it would have. Or readers would have politely engaged with it back then, as they are now. I can never judge an audience as well as I think I can. And that’s great, too. I like to be surprised.

Surprise did come with my last piece on Kamala Harris and her need to engage with the media. My assumption was that my argument was not terribly original or unsettling: Harris, the Democratic nominee for president of the United States and the sitting vice president, should do more than speak to CNN a single time and engage, very briefly, with the traveling press corps. Some readers of mine were outraged, and more than 50 unsubscribed. I am blessed with a large enough audience where 50 defections isn’t going to rattle me too much but I was, for the moment at least, shocked. Nothing I’ve written has triggered that large a drop off in subscriptions. Nothing on Covid, nothing on Ukraine, nothing on Israel. It was new territory for me.

I began to understand a consensus had formed in liberal and Democratic circles: Harris shouldn’t talk to the media anymore. Doing so is wrong, they say, because the media asks dumb questions or Donald Trump will be given oxygen or Harris could say something wrong and the stakes of this election are too high or no one cares about the media anyway and political rallies are simply enough and can you get out of your media bubble, already? Don’t you want to beat Trump?

The stranger reactions I found were from some of the otherwise “high-information” voters who actually seemed to believe Harris could only conduct interviews with CNN, MSNBC, or Fox, or perhaps the New York Times. For them, this was media—nothing else lay on the horizon. The vapidity of the Beltway press—the very press I had lashed many times, as well as the concept of access journalism itself—is a long-running concern of mine, so I was prepared, in advance, for these arguments. I proposed Harris subject herself to the local media in the swing states that will decide the election. Let her visit the offices of the Philadelphia Inquirer, Arizona Republic, and Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Or, if even those are too compromised for the frothing anti-Trump liberal, Harris can speak with reporters from smaller, regional newspapers and nonprofits who would certainly indulge even less in horse-race questions or “false balance.” A press tour of WFAE in North Carolina, Wisconsin Watch, and Spotlight PA could suffice. The journalists there could certainly produce substantive, policy-based questions for a potential future president.

A rejoinder might be that not enough Americans read any of those outlets. They’re all on social media now! TikTok! Podcasts! Fair enough. Harris could sit down with the most popular podcasters in America, those who reach millions of people with every episode. Joe Rogan would have her. So would Theo Von. Or, to play it safe, she could speak with Ezra Klein, a steadfast liberal who has immersed himself in sober policy debates for decades. Klein would book her tomorrow. If none of those are her speed and Harris is really concerned about Gen Z turnout, she could chat with Alex Cooper, who just signed a $100 million contract with SiriusXM. Cooper won’t have much to say about bolstering the Affordable Care Act or ceasefire negotiations in Gaza, but she knows her way around a celebrity interview and could coax some insights out of Harris.

Of course, Harris and her team are having none of that. She’s not talking to Ezra Klein or Alex Cooper. She’s not even talking to MSNBC. Apparently, even Chris Hayes is too much of an obstacle to overcome.

I find myself in an unexpected and lonely position, arguing for the importance of a presidential candidate’s engagement with the American public. Rallies do not count. A vast majority of voters will never attend a single political rally. One may never come to their town or they’re too busy with their own lives to show up if one does. At a rally, Harris will not be asked about prescription drug costs, the future of the Federal Trade Commission, or how she’d unwind the war in Ukraine. She will not be forced to detail her vision for the nation she seeks to lead. She will speak in platitudes and eventually disappear. This is no knock on her; this is the function of the modern political rally. The era of great oratory is over. There is no single political speech in the last 10 years I can recall with any clarity because they are mostly forgettable. Speechmaking is for the image now. Rallies are set pieces, for content creation.

Harris should try to tell us what she intends to do in 2025. It does matter. It matters what she thinks about Ukraine, Israel, and Sudan. She is attempting to become the most important human being on Earth, in control of a nuclear arsenal that can eradicate human civilization within the hour. She should have to articulate her positions like any other modern political candidate. It’s not “depriving Trump of oxygen” (or whatever imbecilic counterpoint is made on that front) to refuse to talk to any single journalist who may ask her one question about Lina Khan or the West Bank or the rising cost of a bronze plan on the ACA marketplace. She’s been the vice president for three and a half years. She must have thought hard about what she’d do in the Oval Office. It’s time for Americans to know. Brat summer is over.

The partisan Democrat is a curious figure. Three months ago, he was absolutely certain Joe Biden was the best nominee for the party and that any questions about his advanced age amounted to right-wing disinformation. He strutted about, like caked-up Gavin Newsom in a CNN spin room, spouting off factoids about Biden’s vigor and Trump’s lunacy. Since Biden had beaten Trump in 2020, he could beat him again, and the polls were lying and those pesky, ignorant reporters (or pundits like that turncoat Nate Silver, who should absolutely be cancelled) were wrongly obsessed with his age, an utter non-issue they invented themselves for clicks. (“But her emails!” they howled into the cold night.) Then, suddenly, a debate took place, and that was all forgotten. It was as if Harris were the nominee all along. Biden promptly dematerialized. Then the Democrats decided she needed protection. From what? Not Trump. They want to debate him. (At least once.) It was the journalists. They were coming with queries and gotchas and ill-intentions. They weren’t playing for Team Blue like they should.

Buried within the partisan Democrat’s fury and indignation is a striking weakness. They don’t quite believe in their nominee, do they? Barack Obama didn’t need such shielding, such coddling. No one grew anguished over Obama’s interactions with someone like Dana Bash. Did you know Obama once sat for an interview with Matt Yglesias? (It happened.) Did you know Obama held press conferences, too? The last time Harris made a run for the presidency, she had to drop out before the Iowa Caucuses. Tulsi Gabbard, future Trump endorser, eviscerated her on a debate stage. (From the left, funnily enough.) I do not believe 2024 will be as unkind to Harris. She has a better than 50 percent chance of beating Trump. She might become president. Then, perhaps, she’ll have to figure out how to live in a world where questions must be answered.