“Democrats are like the Yankees,” said one of the most memorable tweets to come across on X after Election Day. “Spent hundreds of millions of dollars to lose the big series and no one got fired or was held accountable.”
Too sad. But that’s politics. The disappointment behind that tweet was widely shared, but no one with any experience in politics truly believes that no one will be held accountable.
It’s common after a national election to see partisans on the losing side join other operatives and media experts in autopsies of the defeat, pointing fingers or coming up with an abundance of excuses.
This time it’s the Democrats sifting through the wreckage of defeat to determine if Election Day was a circumstantial setback or the unfolding of a potentially long-term disaster.
That fear was only encouraged by the realization that the party was in for a repeat of the stunning disappointment Democrats suffered in their loss to Trump in 2016.
This time, Trump actually outperformed his 2020 margins across the map, winning the popular vote as well as the electoral vote, despite his well-documented negatives, including 34 felony convictions.
History also tells us that the parties have shown impressive resilience in their ability to come back from disaster in recent decades.
But, first, comes a reckoning.
The day after the election, as the Washington Post reported, the Dems were “awash in angst-ridden second-guessing.”
Ah, yes, political junkies in the chattering classes produced ample scenarios to pinpoint where they went wrong.
What if Harris had picked, say, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro as her running mate? Could that have helped her margins in the “blue wall” states? If Biden had stayed in the race, could he have retained the strong coalition that carried him to victory in 2020?
But the bigger question is, how could the party have so lost touch with the voters that they underestimated the numbers of voters who still wanted to vote for Trump’s mixed message?
The question reminds me of a fundamental principle of political campaigns and voter behavior that I first heard Democratic consultant James Carville express: “Every election is a contest between ‘change’ and ‘more of the same.’ ”
“Change” was the magic word that inspired and propelled the relatively unknown Illinois Sen. Barack Obama’s long-shot campaign to victory in 2008, when the war-weary and economically shaken voters looked for change after eight years under Republican George W. Bush’s presidency. A similar desire for change worked in Joe Biden’s favor against Trump in 2020.
Unfortunately for Harris, she was too closely tied to the Biden administration to credibly promote herself as a change agent. Nor did she have enough time to come up with more of a platform of her own.
Things could have worked out better for her and other Democratic candidates if they had followed the advice offered by John Judis and Ruy Teixeira.
Judis is a journalist from the left who has studied and written about American democracy for decades. Teixeira is a nonresident senior fellow at Washington’s conservative American Enterprise Institute (AEI), and before that was a senior fellow at the Center for American Progress, which makes him one of the few researchers I know who has worked at a liberal and a conservative think tank without losing his mind — a commendable achievement in Washington, a town too often hobbled by ideological segregation.
Their latest book, "Where Have All the Democrats Gone? The Soul of the Party in the Age of Extremes," offers a wake-up call for Democrats and others who they believe have lost sight of the people in America’s political center who both parties are trying to woo. Or should be.
Both parties are afflicted these days with new challenges, even as they try to figure out changes in the electorate that resulted from old challenges.
For example, the turnout of so many young, disenchanted and underemployed white males in this campaign year came as a surprise, particularly to Democrats, who were expecting the party’s support of abortion rights to carry them closer to victory than it finally did.
That, too, offers an important political lesson. Timing is everything, it is often said. But issues matter, too.
Where have all the Democrats gone? Maybe the party’s leaders need to go find out.
Page is an American journalist, syndicated columnist and senior member of the Chicago Tribune editorial board.
©2024 Tribune Content Agency. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.