In this episode of the Politics in Question podcast, the team discusses thermostatic politics to explain what it means and how it works.
Podcast: What is thermostatic politics?
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Brain science explains why voters reward charisma over results — and why the leaders who "fix" the most get credit for the least. A behavioral look at elections.
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The Résumé Should Outvote the Smile
Sep 21, 2026
There's an old joke about a couple who finally solved years of arguing over decisions. "Since you're the man of the house," the wife said, "you handle the big things -- our stance on foreign wars, who we send to the Senate. I'll take care of the small stuff: groceries, the mortgage, where we live, what we eat." The husband agreed happily, certain he had won the better half of the deal. A few years later he realized the trade had gone entirely the other way. He held forth on geopolitics at dinner parties while his wife quietly ran every detail that actually touched his life: what he ate, where he lived, how his money was spent. What looked like ultimate authority was, in practice, near-total abdication over the things that shaped his days.
Voters make the same trade, and pay for it the same way. We keep hiring leaders for the qualities we would want in a spouse -- warmth, charm, a commanding voice, the sense that they see us -- instead of the qualities we would want in a mechanic: someone who can find what is broken and fix it before the whole system fails. We evaluate candidates the way we choose intimate partners, not the way we hire people to run complex, high-stakes systems.
A Brain Built for the Wrong Timescale
This is not just a cultural blind spot. It has a biological driver. Brain-imaging research over the past two decades has linked our response to an inspiring speaker with a fast release of dopamine and oxytocin, the same chemical reward system engaged by a great meal, a new romance, or a win at the slot machine. A charismatic leader delivers that hit in real time, on stage, in a two-minute clip that circulates for days. Studies of split-second judgment go further still: shown a candidate's face for less than a second, with no policy information at all, people guess election winners correctly roughly seven times out of ten, based purely on a snap read of competence and warmth.
Good policy does not work on that clock. A tax reform, an infrastructure project, or a shift in interest rates typically takes twelve to eighteen months before its effects show up in the data, and years longer before ordinary voters feel them in daily life. The Federal Reserve itself estimates that the full impact of a single interest-rate change can take up to two years to reach the broader economy. By the time results arrive, the brain has already moved its emotional credit to whoever gave the most recent good speech, whether or not that person had anything to do with the actual work. Slow, structural improvement carries no dopamine spike, so it goes uncredited. Fast, emotional performance carries a large one, so it gets over-credited. The mismatch is not a character flaw in any one voter. It is a design feature of a brain built for a much smaller, much slower world.
When the Audition Beats the Résumé
This mismatch explains why screen presence so often beats governing experience at the ballot box. In 2003, Arnold Schwarzenegger won the California recall election with under half the vote in a field of more than a hundred candidates, arriving with zero governing experience and a résumé built entirely in front of a camera. He left office seven years later with the state carrying a budget deficit in the tens of billions of dollars, a gap that outlasted his tenure and shaped California's finances for years afterward. Ronald Reagan followed a similar route into the same office in 1966, defeating the incumbent governor by nearly a million votes on the strength of his screen presence and radio-honed delivery, not his record in public administration, of which he had none. His later political career is remembered as substantively consequential, which complicates any tidy conclusion. Charisma and competence are not always opposed. They are simply poorly correlated at the exact moment people cast a ballot, which is precisely when it matters most.
The clearest case of all sits in Tamil Nadu, India. In 1977, film star M. G. Ramachandran, known across the state as MGR, was elected chief minister after three decades of building a screen persona as the untouchable defender of the poor. His fans did not distinguish the role from the man. When he died in December 1987 at age 70, roughly one million people flooded Chennai's streets for his funeral, some standing in line for over a day. By multiple contemporary press accounts, around 30 grieving fans took their own lives in the days after his death, unable to process the loss. That grief was never about tax policy or administrative competence. It was the sudden loss of a one-sided emotional attachment as real, to the people who felt it, as losing a parent.
Charisma Is a Luxury Good
The divide runs along economic lines too, and this is the part most commentary on charisma leaves out. Voters with enough material security to treat politics as a form of entertainment can afford to prioritize a leader's decorum, stage presence, and rhetorical polish. For the much larger share of any electorate whose week is defined by grocery prices, rent, fuel costs, and job security, charm is an expensive luxury they cannot afford to indulge. They need competent mechanics who can diagnose and repair broken systems, not a warm and reassuring presence who makes them feel better about a system that keeps failing them. When the roof is leaking, you do not hire the contractor with the best smile. You hire the one who actually stops the leak, even if he is short with you on the phone.
Evolution built us for small tribes of a few hundred people, where a warm, confident face reliably signaled a trustworthy ally worth following into danger, and where the entire consequence of a bad choice was visible within days. That heuristic misfires today, in a world of roughly 8.2 billion people governed by institutions too large, too specialized, and too interconnected for any one charismatic figure to run on instinct and stage presence alone. The scale has changed by many orders of magnitude. Our wiring has not.
What Breaks the Spell
None of this means charisma is worthless, or that voters are foolish for responding to it. Communication matters; a leader who cannot explain a plan cannot build support for it. The fix is not to prize dullness over eloquence. It is to separate the two judgments that charisma tends to fuse into one: does this person make me feel confident, and has this person actually delivered results before. Structured evaluation helps here in the same way it helps in hiring for any other high-stakes role: a specific record of past performance, checked against verifiable outcomes, weighs more than a stage presence, no matter how persuasive that presence feels in the room.
We keep choosing leaders for spouse-like qualities and then act surprised when we get senator-like failures. The bill for that confusion comes due in stalled reforms, wasted budgets, and a public that trusts government less with every cycle, in country after country. Fixing it does not require voters to stop feeling anything at the ballot box; feeling is not the enemy. It requires one honest substitution, repeated at every election: stop asking who you would most want to have dinner with, and start asking who you would trust to fix what is actually broken. Until we make that substitution a habit rather than an exception, we will keep overpaying for charisma and underinvesting in the competence that actually improves lives. The résumé should outvote the smile.
Meda Parameswara Reddy, Ph.D. is Director of the Reddy Center for Critical and Integrated Thinking. A former R&D executive holding 30 U.S. patents, he focuses on the analysis of human behavior, public health, and global affairs, drawing on an interdisciplinary background. He published in multiple RealClear platforms, Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci., Fulcrum, The Humanist, AFRO American, South Asia Monitor (on editorial board, and host of a show), and others.
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a group of soldiers in uniform
Photo by Oleg Ivanov on Unsplash
Moral Leadership Can Protect Service Members' Psychological Well-Being
Sep 20, 2026
It has recently been reported that President Trump and Secretary of War Hegseth disparaged the mental health concerns, including suicide attempts, expressed by the sailors serving aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln during the carrier’s record deployment. Their comments brought back the disquiet I felt several months ago while attending a performance of the US Naval Academy Glee Club at the Church of St. Ignatius Loyola in Manhattan. Usually, when I attend choral concerts in the church’s imposing Baroque sanctuary, my mind quiets, and I find myself immersed in the music. But not on that occasion. Instead, as I enjoyed the exuberant singing, my mind filled with resentment. The Glee Club, handsome midshipmen in formal dress, is a multiethnic group of men and women. The harmonious singing of a chorus composed of individuals of widely varied backgrounds seemed a metaphor for how our country and its military should work.
My upset originated with the realization that during their time at the Naval Academy, these midshipmen had witnessed the firing of the Black Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Air Force General C. Q. Brown, Jr., as part of an apparent purge of those supporting diversity in the military. Even uglier was the implication that Brown, a highly decorated officer, had been elevated to his position as a ‘DEI’ hire. They also had seen the firing of trailblazing women leaders in the military, including Admiral Linda Fagan, the first woman Coast Guard Commandant, and Admiral Yvette Davids, the first woman Superintendent of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, the very institution they were attending. I was offended and angered by the message these firings conveyed to the men and women of the Academy’s Glee Club, especially the women and minority midshipmen, who had volunteered to serve their nation and, ultimately, to place themselves in harm’s way for it.
I also wondered about the message and potential consequences of Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s firing of top military lawyers whose responsibility is to advise military officers and help them avoid violating U.S. law and the laws of armed conflict. It was in this context that I recalled being moved by the sight of former Marines weeping in front of pictures of what they had wrought during their time of combat when visiting the Vietnam Military History Museum in Hanoi some years ago. What I witnessed served as a vivid reminder of the price paid by Vietnam vets who suffered with PTSD across their lives. The prevalence of that diagnosis has increased for those who served in operations Desert Storm and Enduring Freedom, as have the clinical consequences of moral injury in those who have found themselves at odds with their deeply held values during their time of service. As a psychiatrist, I found myself concerned about how such firings may increase the likelihood of the young midshipmen I was listening to, as well as that of others who serve, experiencing moral injury, PTSD, and, ultimately, difficulty reintegrating into civilian life after deployment.
Our service men and women deserve leadership, both civilian and military, which they can respect and which in turn demonstrates respect for them by preparing them for the successful execution of their missions, shows equal esteem for all who serve regardless of their gender, ethnicity, or faith, and strives to minimize the likelihood of their incurring physical and psychological harms. Unfortunately, from my perspective, those currently serving lack the thoughtful and moral civilian leadership they deserve.
Dr. Barry B. Perlman is a retired psychiatrist. He was president of the New York State Psychiatric Association and past chair of the New York State Mental Health Services Council. “Rearview: A Psychiatrist Reflects on Practice and Advocacy In a Time of Healthcare System Change,” his memoir, was published in 2021.
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Republican presidential candidate and former President Donald Trump dances off stage at the end of a campaign rally at the Grappone Convention Center on Friday, Jan. 19, 2024, in Concord, New Hampshire.
(Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images/TNS)
‘Trumpapalooza’ is a sad, unnecessary spectacle that achieves nothing
Sep 11, 2026
Republican National Committee Chairman Joe Gruters says the GOP midterm election “convention” will be a “Trumpapalooza.” It’d be better if everyone called it that.
American political conventions are one of the best examples — among way too many — of American institutional decay.
In the 19th century and much of the 20th century, the quadrennial party conventions were indispensable pieces of political technology. I mean that literally. Traditionally, conventions were where party stakeholders — elected officials, party bosses, etc. — chose the nominee. Factions representing regions, interests, even ideas (how quaint!) would debate and horse-trade with each other, sometimes over days of voting, to name someone the party could get behind.
That system started to atrophy in the 1930s, as Michael Barone, the great political analyst, has argued, because of the telephone. The kind of negotiating required for a nominee to win support was impossible to do by letter. It took too long, and besides, putting things in writing risked exposing deals and other favor-trading for which savvy politicians would never want a paper trail. You had to do it face-to-face.
“The conventions were thus communication devices,” Barone writes, “in which campaign managers assessed candidates’ strength — and responded. Votes would be held back, so as to show momentum on later ballots. Favorite-son candidacies would be launched, in the hopes that they could be withdrawn later for reward or parlayed into a dark-horse nomination. No one had an accurate idea of how many delegates candidates had.”
The telephone changed that. In 1936, President Roosevelt used the new technology of long-distance calling to organize support well in advance of the convention.
Polling, and then television, further sapped away the function of conventions. Who needs party bosses to tell you the mood of the rank and file, when polling can deliver a much richer picture? Why put floor fights and other fodder for opponents on TV? Better to offer a picture of solidarity and excitement.
But the real death knell came in 1972 with the “reforms” promulgated by Democrat George McGovern, which were quickly adopted by the GOP. These reforms — which I think were deformations of our democratic system — took the power to nominate a candidate away from the stakeholders and gave it to rank-and-file voters. We thus became the first and one of the only advanced democracies where parties can no longer choose their own candidates.
I think that was a disaster, but that’s a column for another time. One of the consequences of that disaster was that party conventions essentially became infomercials ratifying a fait accompli. The brokered convention — even the prospect for one — is gone now, replaced by a coronation.
But at least the coronation still serves a purpose. It’s still a necessary function of our electoral system. A boring, intelligence-insulting, performative function, but a function all the same.
This midterm “convention” isn’t even that. No one will be formally nominated. It’s just an opportunity for President Trump to put on a show — about himself.
Defenders might say there’s precedent for this, but their argument proves my point about decay. Democrats in 1974, 1978 and 1982 had midterm conventions. But those conventions involved various committee meetings in which party rules and resolutions were proposed and debated.
In 1978, President Carter defended the midterm convention.
“I believe it is very important for me, as a president, and also as head of the Democratic Party, to have my success and failures assessed objectively and openly by Democrats representing the grassroots of our party around the nation,” Carter said. “I think that was done in a very forthcoming way.”
The Washington Post reported that John C. White, the Democratic Party chairman, was worried that delegate disputes could “turn the convention into a public relations failure.”
“Of course we have a broad range of opinions on some issues within our party,” White said. “But if we get foolish, if we go beyond proper political division and look quarrelsome, these are things that could hurt the Democratic Party and the Democratic president.”
If you think the Dallas Trumpalooza is going to include an open and objective discussion of Trump’s failures, or feature even the slightest political division, I want to congratulate you for having just emerged from a decade-long coma.
This is a commercial with a live studio audience and nothing more. Indeed, the rot of our political institutions on display is not confined to the GOP. One of the featured keynote speakers is Attorney General Todd Blanche. Whether the already ethically compromised AG’s appearance at an expressly partisan event is a violation of the Hatch Act is something for the lawyers to debate. But the spirit of it is grotesque, and a sign that our parties aren’t the only institutions that have lost their way.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.
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U.S. President Donald Trump speaks during a“ Steel Across America” event ahead of the 25th anniversary of the Sept. 11th attacks on the Ellipse near the White House on Sept. 8, 2026 in Washington, D.C. President Trump welcomed 9/ 11 first responders to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation’ s“ Steel Across America” event featuring a 16,900- pound, 21- foot steel beam recovered.
For Trump, even 9/11 is an opportunity
There was a reason organizers of the 9/11 ceremony in Manhattan told President Trump he could not speak at this year’s memorial service.
A good one, it turns out.
Because in a speech he gave on Tuesday in Washington, he did exactly what they were presumably worried about — he made it about himself.
According to The New York Times, Trump had wanted a speaking role at the service, but the National Sept. 11 Memorial and Museum, which oversees the site, said no, as they’ve maintained for the past decade-plus that the venue and event should be nonpartisan.
Trump has long used awful tragedies to either puff himself up, trash political opponents, or sell lies to the American people.
He blamed a deadly plane crash at Washington National Airport last year on diversity, equity and inclusion policies. He blamed Puerto Ricans for the devastation they endured after Hurricane Maria in 2017. He reportedly considered withholding disaster relief after the California wildfires based on the way affected regions voted. In an interview on Fox News meant to commemorate the 75th anniversary of D-Day in Normandy, he used the occasion to slam former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi…with graves of the dead behind him.
And now, as we approach the 25th anniversary of what many New Yorkers consider the darkest day in modern history, Trump has done it again.
He told a rambling, nonsensical story — one he’s told before — about going to Ground Zero just after terrorists flew two commercial jets into the twin towers. In the story, which no one has been able to verify, despite multiple attempts, he says firefighters had to carry him out of One Liberty Plaza, also known as the U.S. Steel Building, because they thought it was about to collapse.
As CNN fact checker Daniel Dale notes, there’s no evidence Trump went into this building, especially at a time when NYPD and NYFD had locked down the area. There’s no evidence that building was collapsing — in fact, it was deemed structurally sound and reopened within two months of the attacks. There’s no evidence he was carried out of it by firefighters.
But the lie isn’t even the worst part. Pretend it was all true — why would the leader of our country, and a New Yorker, decide to make that tragic day about himself?
Because that’s who Donald Trump is. He’s a malignant narcissist.
He’s also, incidentally, a terrible and ineffectual president, who’s made ill-fated decisions that he has to keep defending, and there’s nothing he won’t do to make himself look and feel better.
Within the first two minutes of his speech, he was cravenly using 9/11 to justify and promote his dumb war in Iran — two events separated by 25 years and 6,000 miles.
“And I will tell you, we’re right now fighting because we have a certain nation that wanted a nuclear weapon, they were very close to getting it, and now they have no chance at getting it. They will never have a nuclear weapon. Iran will not have a nuclear weapon. And they’ve been punished greatly. As you know, we’ve really taken it to them.”
As a New Yorker who lived through 9/11, still one of the worst days of my life, I’m utterly sickened by Trump’s crass, political, and self-promotional framing of that awful day.
And I’m relieved he won’t be given a platform to do it again on Friday’s anniversary in lower Manhattan.
Because for Trump, everything is his for the taking, and absolutely nothing is sacred.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.