9. It’s okay to show some vulnerability. I think this is the hardest thing for you. But most voters would be entirely sympathetic if, for example, you said, regarding an issue like fracking: “You know what? We know a lot more about fracking today than when I initially opposed it. We know that we can extract gas safely. That it’s cleaner than oil. That it provides needed energy and gives the United States a strong export and a competitive global advantage. I don’t change my mind for political convenience, but because I’m open to new information and growth. Hel-lo!”
10. At one point, accuse Trump of trying to blow up the debate itself. Already, the guy’s been bashing ABC, the network that will broadcast the debate, and impugning the reputations of Disney Entertainment co-chair Dana Walden, who oversees properties including ABC, and her husband, producer Matt Walden (both of whom are friends with Harris and her entertainment-lawyer husband, Doug Emhoff), claiming in his latest Trump-as-martyr conspiracy theory that the couple, whom he did not identify by name, would give the Harris team the questions in advance. This is a ruse from Trump’s (and his late attorney-mentor Roy Cohn’s) tired playbook that he has shamelessly used in the courtroom and in his objections to the outcome of the last election: sow a sense of doubt about both the eventual results and the very nature of the proceedings. The implication? That the debate will somehow be “rigged” to his disadvantage.
Criticizing the network and an executive who oversees it is demeaning; it’s intended to demean—and it has the scent of flop sweat, of a candidate and a campaign fearing their own shadows and deliberately attempting to set low expectations for the audience. You should call him out on it. You might even want to quote the Army lawyer who, in the divisive 1950s Red Scare hearings, turned the tables on Senator Joseph McCarthy when he rebuked the lawmaker in front of a national audience, asking: “Have you no sense of decency, sir?” That one phrase, in effect, helped trigger the senator’s swift public demise.
In sum: There are three moments in a presidential campaign that allow you to predictably affect your public perception in the eyes of undecided voters—your announcement, your convention speech, and the debates. You’ve done brilliantly with the first two, but the third may be the most important, which is why I think it’s really smart that you’re locked down right now in debate prep. My old colleague Matthew Dowd, a very intelligent political strategist, theorizes that one debate equals roughly 20 days on the campaign trail. That’s huge when game day is only two months out.
This debate is as important for your fortunes as the last one was for Biden’s. You’re on the big stage with the hot lights against the most ornery, whiny, double-talking, and, frankly, malevolent American presidential candidate in recent memory. We know him. We know what he’s going to do. People are tuning in for you. We want to see how you hold up. We want to see what you’ve got. For many people who’ll be going to the ballot box, impressions of you are still soft, not yet cemented. And the Trump campaign has only one strategy left: disqualify you before you can effectively set your own narrative.
Forty-four years ago a candidate who wasn’t taken seriously and wasn’t well-defined took advantage of a debate against an incumbent president who was very well-defined and not very well-liked. And that’s the moment Ronald Reagan turned the corner and crushed Jimmy Carter. It’s obviously a very different time, but there are some parallels. Voters don’t really know you yet. But they could come Tuesday.
This is your chance. You’re carrying an enormous burden of hope for those who want real change, for those who went to the mat for Hillary Clinton, for those who see you and Walz as fresh alternatives, for those who’ve been in the trenches fighting Trump since he first came down that escalator.
You’ve got this. You’re ready. It’s your time.
