Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.
The Biden and Trump campaigns recently agreed to two presidential debates. Who among us can contain our excitement?
Well, it depends on what you mean by "us." In my corner of the professional world — pundits, commentators, political junkies — there was much rejoicing. Watching the Sunday shows, you could be forgiven for thinking church bells must have rung out to celebrate the news across the nation, as if some medieval queen had given birth to a male heir. The debates are happening! The debates are happening! Huzzah!
Meanwhile, among normal people, that sound you didn't hear was the great mass of humanity shrugging. A smaller segment of the population likely let out an involuntary groan of the sort you make when you find out you got a middle seat on an airplane.
I don't have polling to back this up, but I suspect most Americans would regard the prospect of Donald Trump and Joe Biden yelling at each other like two old men squabbling over the check at a Denny's with resigned exhaustion. Ugh, really? We're doing this again?
Now, I understand why journalists and junkies are excited. For starters, presidential debates inflate the egos of journalists, giving them ample opportunity to talk grandly about the fourth estate's important role in democracy. They're also great for ratings: The first, thoroughly awful 2020 debate was watched by 73 million people.
The drama of politicians offering unscripted -- though often rehearsed -- answers to complicated questions has a Super Bowl-like quality for political nerds. That listening to either of the current presumptive nominees talk is like watching a race car driver behind the wheel of a vehicle without brakes just adds to the excitement. The prospect of a spectacular crash always has a certain dark appeal, and in a Trump-Biden matchup, crashes are assured.
Lost amid the hoopla over the latest debate agreement is the fact that pretty much all presidential debates are tiresome and counterproductive spectacles.
The arguments for debates are often somewhat tautological. We supposedly need to have presidential debates because we've always had presidential debates. But this isn't true.
The first presidential debates, between John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon, were in 1960 (when Biden and Trump were, respectively, 17 and 14 years old). All anyone remembers about the Kennedy-Nixon debates is the first one, which Nixon lost, according to lore, because he was without makeup, unshaven and sweaty. Again, according to lore, people who listened to the debate on radio thought Nixon won, while people who watched it on television were so impressed by Kennedy's suave style and good looks that they thought he won. Nixon, who was underweight and exhausted during his first appearance, got some rest and good makeup and won the next two debates, which nobody remembers.
In other words, the lesson from the beginning was that style was more important than substance. It has ever been thus.
We think, partly because we are told as much over and over again, that televised debates convey important information to voters. But television makes certain information seem more important than it is, often subliminally. For instance, in most presidential elections, the taller candidate wins. Does height in some way correlate with superior policies?
There's a reason FDR hid his wheelchair from public view. But while I have no end of substantive criticisms of Franklin D. Roosevelt, his having had polio is not among them.
Obviously, television presence is part of modern presidents' job description. But televised presidential debates magnify that qualification beyond all reason. Yes, yes, presidents need to be good communicators. But at no point during their actual presidencies are they ever expected to bicker with a political foe for 90 minutes in front of millions of people.
The political skills we are testing for are not the political skills the job requires. The candidate who forcefully, confidently or amusingly lies is often rewarded by debates, while the candidate who tells the truth awkwardly, hesitantly or with appropriate complexity is often penalized.
The debate "highlight" reels the networks routinely run are full of one-liners, gaffes and falsehoods often treated as true by sympathetic journalists. But I've never seen a really thoughtful explanation of the national debt or another serious problem celebrated as a great moment in debate history.
The prospect of a Biden-Trump rematch is especially deserving of an "Ugh, really?" But the truth is that all presidential debates deserve the same.
First posted May 21, 2024. (C)2024 Tribune Content Agency, LLC.












Americans across the political spectrum have continued to ask about the late financier and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s connections among the political elite. (Angela Weiss/AFP)







A view of the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C., on June 25, 2026. President Donald Trump jolted Republicans during a fiery appearance at the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday, scrapping a housing bill signing ceremony and clashing behind closed doors with a party rebel who challenged him over the Iran war. Trump had been expected to sign the bipartisan housing.
Only Trump doesn’t care about housing
It was August 15, 2024. Then candidate Donald Trump stepped out of his Bedminster, New Jersey, golf club’s columned clubhouse to a gaggle of reporters. He was flanked by tables of groceries and signs showing the rising cost of food. Also on one of the tables was a dollhouse, meant to represent the equally alarming rise in housing prices.
It was a speech about the economy, the single most important issue of the 2024 election cycle, full of promises that went right to the heart of Americans’ anxieties. While former President Joe Biden and then Vice President Kamala Harris were contorting themselves to posture a good economy that just needed more time to recover from the pandemic, Trump was preying on voters’ very real fears of unaffordable gas, groceries, and homes. It was obviously a winning message.
In that speech, Trump promised, “We’re going to open up tracts of federal land for housing construction. We desperately need housing for people who can’t afford what’s going on now.”
As of mid-2023, there had been a housing shortage of nearly four million homes, according to the National Association of Realtors. Americans all over the country were either priced out of buying new homes due to low inventory, trapped in their existing homes by sky-high mortgage rates, or facing exorbitant rent hikes thanks to corporate investors buying up rental properties. Americans needed help, and Trump promised it.
Cut to March of 2026, when Trump reportedly told House Speaker Mike Johnson, “No one gives a sh*t about housing.”
That kind of thinking may explain why Trump this week suddenly announced he was canceling a signing ceremony for the bipartisan “21st Century ROAD to Housing Act,” a housing bill co-sponsored by Sens. Elizabeth Warren and Tim Scott that passed the House 358-32 and was approved in the Senate on Monday.
Trump instead demanded Congress pass the SAVE America Act, his controversial election grievance bill that doesn’t have enough Republican support to get passed in the Senate.
It’s just the latest in a line of policy self-owns where Trump has seemingly intentionally made life more difficult for Republicans hoping to keep their majority. Despite midterm elections occurring in the midst of a blistering economy and an unpopular war, they were surely hoping the housing bill would give them something — anything — to brag about when they returned home to their districts.
And very much to the contrary, Americans do give a sh*t about housing. According to a recent survey by the Bipartisan Policy Center, a whopping 79% say the cost of housing is extremely or very important to them. Eighty-three percent say Congress should take action on the issue — like it just did. Eighty-nine percent say the House and Senate need to work together to pass affordable housing legislation — like they just did. And 63% say they would be more likely to vote for a lawmaker if they helped pass legislation to build more affordable homes and lower housing costs — like they just did.
There aren’t many issues that unite Americans like housing does, and very few bipartisan policy wins Congress can point to, and yet, Trump is holding that bill hostage in order to get his pet project — which doesn’t even have the support of his own party — pushed through.
If you’re trying to make sense of something so nonsensical, as I’m sure many Republican lawmakers are, it’s certainly sad but not actually all that complicated. Trump said what he needed to get reelected and then promptly abandoned his promises in order to pursue his own self-interests, even if those interests are bad for Republicans and bad for voters.
That’s just the kind of guy he is.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.