Presidential debates have impact when they address questions and concerns about the candidates that are top of mind for voters. As the crucial presidential debate began, in a race that was statistically dead even, both candidates had work to do.
Kamala Harris faced three key challenges. First, 37% to 42% of voters in some swing states knew virtually nothing about her except that she serves as Joe Biden’s vice president. Filling in this gap, or at least beginning to, was job one. From the very first minutes of the debate, it was clear that she knew she had to define herself and that she did—as a child of the middle class who, in contrast to Trump, was not given $400 million to start a business. In addition, she repeatedly came back to her experience as a prosecutor.
Second, Harris has shifted her position on many important issues—health care (Medicare for All), climate change (fracking), and immigration (decriminalizing border crossings), among others—since she ran for the nomination in 2020. This left people wondering, what kind of Democrat is she—a classic California progressive or the next generation of the Clinton, Obama, and Biden-style center-left? She had to persuade voters that the new version of Kamala Harris is the one they will get if she is elected.
Here her performance was more mixed. She explained her shift on fracking but didn’t give as clean and crisp an answer as she could have on other issues where Trump has accused her of flip-flopping. However, she defended the Biden administration and her participation in the bipartisan immigration legislation that Trump killed, she let the audience know that both she and Tim Walz are gun owners who have no intention of taking away people’s guns, and she pushed back against the charge that she was weak on crime by emphasizing her experience and record as a prosecutor who put criminals behind bars.
Third, as is the case with every candidate who hasn’t previously occupied the presidency, Harris had to convince swing voters that she has what it takes to serve effectively as the nation’s chief executive and commander-in-chief. Simply put, they needed to be able to see her as big enough to be president, a barrier that some previous candidates, such as Michael Dukakis in 1988, failed to cross.
Harris passed this test easily. She never got flustered, she made her points concisely and quickly, and she spoke with confidence about traditionally “male” issues like war, defense, crime, and foreign policy.
What did Trump have to do in this debate? Two things.
First of all, he had to come across as someone who is not mean and angry, obsessed with the past and prone to conspiracy theorizing. His campaign aides have urged him to fight Kamala on the issues. Yet, on the stump, Trump can’t seem to stick to the script. He reads the policy portions of his speeches with an obvious lack of enthusiasm and returns often to complaining about alleged ballot fraud in 2020, insulting Harris, and unearthing conspiracy theories that make little sense.
Trump began the debate with the advice from his advisors ringing in his head. His first answer on the economy took aim at the Biden record, one of the issues on which he has held a consistent lead throughout the campaign. But as time went on, his debate performance took the same course as the Trump rallies. He turned nearly every question into an answer about the threats from illegal immigration. Like the economy, this has been a good issue for him, but he did begin to sound like a Johnny One Note on the topic, and it is not clear that this issue is as powerful in swing states like Pennsylvania as it is in border or more Republican states.
Also, as the debate wore on, Trump simply could not stay away from weird stuff. He insisted that Democrats favored killing babies after they were born and allowing abortion in the ninth month. And he repeated a story about immigrants in Springfield, Ohio killing and eating people’s cats and dogs. One of the moderators, David Muir, had to step in to point out that reporters had called Springfield city officials who had investigated the story and found it simply wasn’t true.
The second thing Trump needed to do was differentiate himself from the most extreme stances of his party—many of which are described by his former aides in Project 2025. As he has done in the past, he distanced himself from this document during the debate, claiming “I have nothing to do with Project 2025. I haven’t even read it.”
Although there are many questionable policies being considered by Trump and the right wing of the Republican Party, such as slapping huge tariffs on U.S. imports and deporting millions of immigrants—by far the most dangerous one for him politically is abortion. On that issue, his answer was, as it has always been, that everything is okay because now the states are deciding it. Not surprisingly, Harris’ attack on abortion was exceptionally strong. She pointed out the many states that have passed highly restrictive abortion policies and, in some cases, have criminalized the behavior of doctors who are providing reproductive services. Abortion rights is the single most helpful issue for the Democrats in 2024.
Republican strategists keep hoping the abortion issue can be buried, but recent steps by Trump allies in Florida and Texas have kept it alive. In the debate, Trump tried to distance himself from the extremes, arguing that he would approve of abortions for rape and incest and even going so far as to say the Florida six-week ban is too short. Nonetheless, the coalition he leads isn’t happy with his nods to moderation, and it is likely many Americans will continue to believe that he would sign a national abortion ban if a Republican Congress sent it to his desk.
In conclusion, there are three kinds of presidential debates. The first is when one candidate lands a knockout blow against the other, as Ronald Reagan did with Jimmy Carter in 1980. The second is when the debate does little if anything to change the flow of the race; the Clinton/Dole debates in 1996 are a good example. The third, intermediate outcome occurs when a debate yields an advantage to one candidate without ending the other’s chance to win, as happened when Mitt Romney bested President Obama in their first debate in 2012.
The first (and perhaps only) debate between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris falls into this last category. After a month-long Harris surge that erased the advantage Trump had developed over President Biden, the race had stabilized during the past two weeks. This debate seems likely to put new wind in Harris’ sails. Whether it will be enough to propel her to victory in the Electoral College remains to be seen. But her campaign and supporters leave the debate with renewed energy and hope. By contrast, the Trump campaign must reckon with the likelihood that their candidate’s performance pleased his base without rallying many new supporters to his side.
Throughout the race, Trump has enjoyed a solid lead on the question of strong leadership. While he may still hold an advantage, most Americans who watched the debate probably saw in Kamala Harris an adversary who held her ground, went on the attack whenever possible, and refused to be intimidated. This matters.
On the face of it, the Trump campaign has an incentive to seek a rematch. If it does, the Harris campaign will probably insist on rules more to its liking. If not, this debate will stand as the last high-profile event before the November 5 election and as the race devolves into trench warfare—a battle of communications and organization in the states that will decide the outcome.
Finally—in the minutes after the debate closed—the galactically famous singer Taylor Swift announced she would be voting for Kamala Harris. In today’s world, this may be worth as much or even more than Harris’ solid debate performance.
Commentary
The presidential debate accomplished more for Harris than it did for Trump
September 11, 2024