Debate Recap: Trump Coasts as Cruz and Rubio Tussle

The latest round of polls shows Donald Trump in as strong a position as he's ever been among national samples of Republicans, although Ted Cruz appears to have caught up to him in Iowa, home of the nation's first delegate selection event. One might expect that Trump, as the leading candidate, would therefore attract the bulk of attacks from rival candidates in Tuesday's debate—and that Trump might in turn direct fire at Cruz, who now represents a major threat to his chances in the Iowa caucus.

Instead, Trump sailed through the debate without becoming the target of sustained criticism from the rest of the field. Jeb Bush and Rand Paul took shots at Trump—Bush in particular cannot contain his open exasperation with Trump's antics, and clearly finds Trump's ascendance to be maddeningly incompatible with his own theory of the universe—but neither man has the popularity or credibility with the conservative base of the Republican Party to draw much blood, and Trump simply swatted them away. But Cruz, and to a lesser extent Marco Rubio, passed up several opportunities to attack Trump (Cruz was openly invited to do so by the moderators near the end of the debate), even though they are currently Trump's main rivals in the race. For his part, Trump returned the favor by disowning his own previous description of Cruz as a "maniac" when it was raised by a questioner.

Rubio and Cruz preferred to train their fire on each other. Cruz criticized Rubio on immigration (from the ideological right), while Rubio criticized Cruz on surveillance and military policy (ditto). As these policy stances represent each candidate's most notable departure from conservative doctrinal purity, the attacks were hardly a surprise, and these issues will probably continue to be raised as long as Cruz and Rubio remain in the race.

It seems likely that Rubio and Cruz subscribe to a similar strategic view of the nomination contest as it currently stands. If Trump is destined to fade, they reason, there is little advantage in attacking him now, since he will leave a large chunk of Republican voters up for grabs who will likely be reluctant to transfer their support to a candidate who had criticized their former hero. If Trump is not destined to fade, then both Rubio and Cruz want to be left standing as the primary non-Trump alternative in the race as the field narrows after Iowa and New Hampshire. Under either scenario, strategy dictates that they attack each other rather than the front-runner, who thus winds up getting something of an easy ride even as he continues to top the field.

At some point down the road, the strategies of Rubio and Cruz may diverge. The chief difference between their positions is that Iowa is probably a must-win state for Cruz, whereas Rubio only needs to finish respectably there. If Cruz is unable to pull away from Trump in Iowa, he may be forced to revoke his current non-aggression pact with Trump (and, if Cruz does start to pull away, Trump may abandon it himself). For now, however, we are left with a leader in the polls who is facing attacks not from the other top-tier candidates, but from those who are struggling to gain any traction whatsoever. As Trump remarked contemptuously on Tuesday in response to Jeb Bush's gibes, "I'm at 42 [percent], and you're at 3." A mean thing to say, perhaps—but not an inaccurate one.

Is Marco Rubio Another Todd Akin?

Today's New York Times contains an article reporting that Right to Rise, a super PAC supporting Jeb Bush's presidential candidacy, is developing a plan to launch a wave of attacks on Marco Rubio, an ex-political ally of Bush's from Florida who is now pulling ahead of Bush in the 2016 Republican nomination race. It's hard to conclude from the evidence presented that Bush's supporters have built a strong case against Rubio, whom—as the piece documents—Bush treated as a prize protégé for years before their presidential ambitions began to clash. Many of the complaints against Rubio represent mere personal pique, smacking of a who-does-he-think-he-is attitude that simply assumes that the younger man is bound by a type of filial duty to defer to his former political mentor. But even if Jeb Bush views the presidency, or at least the Republican nomination, as automatically his by right, there is little reason for such an assumption to be respected by any other Republican.

One element of the article that has received particular attention today is the detail that Right to Rise has produced what the Times calls a "provocative video" arguing that Rubio's "hard-line stand against abortion" renders him unelectable if nominated. At first glance, this seems like another bumbling political mistake from a flailing presidential campaign. Do Jeb Bush's allies really expect to win the Republican nomination by openly running to Rubio's, or anyone else's, political left on abortion? The tradeoff between ideological purity and real-world electability that many Democrats perceive is not equally accepted in the Republican Party, except among a small group of pragmatic-minded political consultants and donors—if anything, many conservatives view the Reagan presidency as proof that unswerving devotion to principle is electorally advantageous—and there is no obvious way for Bush or Bush-aligned groups to raise the issue without reinforcing the existing suspicions of many Republican activists that he is a bit of an ideological squish.

In its own awkward manner, however, the Bush crew has hit on an important question worthy of careful consideration by Republicans. Traditionally, most otherwise "pro-life" Republican candidates (including the last five presidential nominees) have recognized exceptions to a proposed ban on abortions for circumstances in which the pregnancy occurred as a result of rape or incest (and, in some cases, if the health of the woman were to be at permanent risk). Rubio, however, does not support these exceptions.

Rubio's position is a potential political liability in two respects. First, the rape-and-incest exceptions are popular among the public, even among citizens who identify as pro-life, and opposing them may thus place a candidate at a disadvantage in a general election. Secondly, two Republican Senate candidates were defeated in 2012 in normally Republican-leaning states after mounting poor rhetorical defenses of their own no-exceptions abortion views. Todd Akin of Missouri gained national attention for telling an interviewer that “If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down. But let’s assume that maybe that didn’t work or something: I think there should be some punishment, but the punishment ought to be of the rapist, and not attacking the child.” Soon afterward, Richard Mourdock of Indiana stated during a televised debate that "I came to realize life is [a] gift from God, and I think even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen.” After the election, many strategically-minded Republicans pleaded with their own party's politicians to stop talking about rape lest they inflict further political damage.

Rubio is a much more canny and fluid candidate than either Akin or Mourdock, and he may well retain an ability to deflect criticisms of his position without succumbing to the clumsy arguments that cost his party two Senate seats in red states three years ago. There is no doubt, however, that a Rubio nomination will provoke the Democratic opposition into visibly and repeatedly attacking what it will view as a significant political vulnerability. Rubio is currently the trendy pick to be the next Republican nominee for the presidency, and Republicans should be aware before the process is complete that choosing him effectively signs them up for a 2016 election in which a major topic of debate will be the permissibility of abortion under conditions of rape. They will thus be counting on Rubio to handle an issue that holds demonstrable political danger much more deftly than Todd Akin did.

Debate Recap: Rubio Scores Over Bush on Silly Non-Issue

The news media decided that Marco Rubio was the winner of last night's debate, and Jeb Bush the hands-down loser, after only about 25 minutes had elapsed. A CNBC moderator asked Rubio about a Florida newspaper's complaint that he had missed too many votes in the Senate while campaigning for president. Rubio responded—in a well-prepared counterattack—by accusing the newspaper in question, and the news media in general, of holding him to a stricter standard than previous Democratic senators, such as Barack Obama, who had similarly spent time away from Washington while seeking the presidency.

Fellow Floridian Jeb Bush seized the moment to join in on the criticism, arguing "as a constituent" that Rubio should resign if he could not even fulfill a Senate schedule that Bush characterized as a "French workweek"—referring to the fact that most votes in Congress are held on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays in order to accommodate weekend travel to home constituencies. Rubio was clearly expecting both the original question and Bush's pile-on, and his jibe back at Bush—"Someone convinced you attacking me is going to help you"—was widely scored as a TKO in the news media.

In a bizarre and unsatisfying debate run by an assortment of moderators who alternated sneering "gotcha" questions with hand-wringing apologies when candidates inaccurately pushed back on legitimately tough challenges, the question to Rubio did not stand out as particularly egregious in comparison. Even so, it is a fairly ridiculous line of critique. The United States has an electoral system that requires presidential candidates to spend many months building active campaigns across a sprawling and populous country. Any sitting inhabitant of political office—even an incumbent president running for a second term—will necessarily balance the duties of his or her current position with the requirements of a serious national presidential campaign.

There is no evidence that Rubio's presidential candidacy is either hurting his Florida constituents or causing any floor votes in the Senate to turn out differently due to his absence; charging him with abandoning his responsibilities is a bit of a cheap shot that should be below the standards of newspaper editors, CNBC moderators, and fellow candidates alike. (Bush's crack about the Senate's workweek is similarly infantile; as he knows full well, votes are scheduled to allow senators to spend a maximum amount of time back in their home states, lest they be accused of having "lost touch" or "gone Washington." Whatever else one might think about Congress, the implication that it is anything other than a 7-day-a-week job is completely inaccurate.)

If Bush's presidential candidacy is damaged because Rubio got the better of him in their tussle over the importance of an A+ congressional attendance record, it merely serves him right for attacking "his" senator over such a silly issue. But the moderators should also share some blame for wasting time on a question that they know—or certainly should know—is neither important nor fair.

An Obama-centric Theory of the Republican Presidential Race So Far

This National Review Online piece by Henry Olsen compares Jeb Bush to Rip Van Winkle. Olsen argues that Bush's presidential campaign seems be run out of a playbook that is at least ten years out of date. By advocating generous tax cuts for corporations and wealthy individuals, a greater federal involvement in public education, comprehensive immigration reform, and interventionism abroad, Jeb is running a 2000-era race in a 2015 world. "America has changed," writes Olsen, and Bush's "difficulties are directly tied to his inability so far to adapt to the changed environment."

In particular, the part of America known as the "Republican Party" has changed. "Republicans, even those in the somewhat conservative camp whose votes are key for anyone to be nominated, are angry," observes Olsen. "They want someone who can lead, and that means they want someone who can articulate conservative principles and take the fight to the Democrats. Bush’s steady, Mr. Nice Guy persona is totally genuine, but it seems out of step with the demands of a now-volatile GOP electorate."

Who are Republicans so angry at? Olsen doesn't dwell on this point, though the answer is clear enough: Barack Obama. Many rank-and-file Republicans are dissatisfied with their own party leaders too, of course, but this is partially a manifestation of their anti-Obama anger; they hold Republican officeholders responsible for losing to Obama in two national elections and for failing to prevent him from implementing a liberal policy agenda. In response, most Republican candidates are running on a platform of repealing as much of the Obama presidency as they can, from the Affordable Care Act to "deferred action" to the Dodd-Frank reforms to the Iran nuclear agreement.

The unexpected success of Donald Trump and Ben Carson in polls of Republican primary voters is usually interpreted as a widespread clamor for "outsider" candidates. But these two figures also stand out in another, less-appreciated way. More than any other candidates in the race, both Trump and Carson have built their political personas around pure opposition to Obama. Trump's extended engagement with national politics began several years ago as an anti-Obama crusade; he even sponsored a fact-finding mission to Hawaii in 2011 meant to dig up evidence of Obama's fraudulent birth records (which was never heard of again). Carson's appearance at the National Prayer Breakfast in February 2013, when he criticized the ACA and other Obama policies in front of the president, elevated him immediately to the status of a national conservative hero.

Jeb Bush certainly hasn't been leading any kind of charge against Obama for the last eight years, and that absence alone allows his conservative bona fides to remain open to question. He appears to have no particular interest in picking fights with Obama or defining himself politically in opposition to the incumbent president—or anyone else, for that matter, except perhaps Trump. (In contrast, Mitt Romney began his 2012 campaign by promoting a book whose title, No Apology, signaled his anti-Obama message by serving as a rejoinder to what conservatives dubbed an international "apology tour" by Obama.) Though Bush's tonal mismatch with the rest of the contemporary GOP may hurt his chances in the Republican primaries, Jeb can take solace in at least one dodged bullet: at least he never gave Obama a hug.

Linc, Jeb, Hillary, and the Limits of Dynastic Politics

The three top stories of the day so far in the political media:

1. Continuing morning-after analysis of Hillary Clinton's marathon appearance yesterday in front of the House committee investigating Benghazi.

2. Reports that Jeb Bush's presidential campaign is facing a cash flow shortage that has forced it to cut staff salaries by 40 percent or more.

3. Former Rhode Island senator and governor Lincoln Chafee's withdrawal from the 2016 Democratic presidential nomination race.

Is there a common thread here? Let's see!

Political dynasties have existed in America since the days of John Quincy Adams, but the issue of dynastic politics has come to the fore lately due to the strong likelihood that the Democratic Party will nominate the wife of the nation's 42nd president for the presidency next year, while one of the leading contenders for the Republican nomination is the son of the 41st president and the brother of the 43rd. In general, pundits have greeted the prospect of either a Hillary Clinton or a Jeb Bush nomination with a palpable lack of enthusiasm, and the possibility that both candidates might advance to a face-off in the general election next fall often prompts the news media to wonder what such a choice "would say about America" (the implied answer: nothing good).

There's no doubt that it helps a candidate to be part of a popular political family, and this advantage can bolster the electoral fortunes of certain political heirs who do not exhibit the full range of qualities we might otherwise wish our leaders to display. (The travails of certain nth-generation Kennedys and Tafts serve as fodder for warnings about the risks of flocking to famous names.) As such, dynastic politics can be viewed as anti-meritocratic, and even anti-democratic, with the word itself implying hereditary rule by other means. Lincoln Chafee, to take one example, seems like a nice enough guy who probably would not have made it to the Senate without the fact that his father John Chafee was a distinguished and popular senator from a small, insular state. The younger Chafee was in fact appointed to fill his father's seat upon the incumbent's death, later winning election on his own for a full term.

Compared to running for Congress or governor, however, presidential politics is so complicated, difficult, and scrutinizing that family ties or reputation only go so far. Linc Chafee's somewhat unexpected presidential campaign quickly revealed his devastating limitations as a national political figure, from his strange announcement speech to his weak showing in last week's Democratic debate. He understandably received virtually no public or financial support, and the news today that he is dropping out of the race is hardly a surprise.

As for Hillary Clinton and Jeb Bush, although family relationships have significantly benefited their careers in the past, their ability to survive in the unforgiving climate of presidential politics requires not just the right name but substantial political talent as well. While the press has made much of her supposedly shaky campaign over most of the summer, Clinton's assured performance throughout a long day of often-hostile questioning on Thursday received positive reviews in the news media, with even Republicans acknowledging the capability of her performance—coming after a debate in which she similarly impressed commentators and Democratic voters alike. She is not without political weaknesses, some of them substantial, but neither is her status as the near-certain Democratic nominee simply a reflection of her husband's fame and popularity.

Jeb Bush, in contrast, has so far proven to be a less appealing presidential candidate than many expected—leading, in part, to the fundraising difficulties that are now forcing him to cut back on staff—which further underscores the fact that his older brother George W. Bush was not only the privileged son of a president but an extremely skilled politician in his own right whose success on the national stage was by no means accidental. Jeb may share bloodlines with two presidents, but he will need much more than that to win the support of Republican voters. That sounds less like hereditary succession and more like democracy in action.

Please Just Call Me Jeb. “Mr. Bush” Is My Brother's Name!

Because most New Hampshirites watch Boston-based television, those of us on the other side of the Massachusetts state line receive all of the TV advertising associated with the New Hampshire primary but none of the first-in-the-nation voting power. For most of my fellow Bay State residents, this is undoubtedly a lose-lose proposition. But as a political scientist who's interested in the campaign strategy that political communications reveal, I enjoy seeing the ads—at least for the first few repetitions.

This is a purely anecdotal observation, but other than a scattering of pro-Hillary Clinton spots, an occasional Lindsey Graham promotion, and a fairly heavy recent barrage on behalf of John Kasich that now seems to have died out, my impression is that the paid airwaves in New England have been dominated for months by Right to Rise, the super PAC working to elect Jeb Bush. But you’d barely know the candidate’s full name just from the ads themselves, which nearly always refer to their subject simply as “Jeb”:

As Jeb Bush is neither a female pop star nor a Brazilian soccer legend, the omission of his surname is unusual—and hard not to notice, especially on repeated viewings. It is clear that the super PAC's ad-makers, probably following the lead of opinion surveys and focus group participants, have acted to minimize the explicit priming of Bush family ties when courting Republican primary voters. But this ostensibly clever tactic openly telegraphs a palpable defensiveness. The attempt by media consultants to create a “Just Jeb” persona merely reinforces Jeb Bush's obvious discomfort with discussing the George W. Bush presidency in public appearances and interviews. Since few things provoke journalists to push harder more than a politician's visible expression of unease, this pattern has merely egged on the news media.

When he entered the 2016 presidential race, Jeb Bush gambled that he could mount a formidable campaign by running on his record as governor of Florida—a tenure in office that ended nearly nine years ago—while simultaneously avoiding or finessing the question of whether his candidacy represented a potential third term for his brother's policies (and if not, why not). There was an understandable political logic at work: a faction of conservative politicians and activists had come to express dissatisfaction with his brother's record of expanding government services and spending, while a majority of the broader electorate disapproved of the nation's economic and military performance under George W. Bush's leadership. But the price of this approach has been an enduring cloud of perceptible awkwardness that threatens to envelop Jeb unless and until he wins the presidency on his own.

The media's awareness of this conundrum—and hair-trigger sensitivity to the day-to-day musings of one Donald J. Trump—has led to substantial coverage over the past week of Trump's attacks on George W. Bush's national security record and Jeb's aggressive defense. Fortunately for Jeb, this is relatively safe political turf to fight on (and his campaign's decision to release a video and mount a fundraising appeal responding to Trump seemingly confirms that he doesn't see a political danger in keeping the story alive). It's hard to imagine Trump's complaints about the failure to prevent 9/11, which sound a lot like arguments made by liberals, resonating strongly with Republican voters. While Jeb might prefer to avoid mentioning his brother at all for the next thirteen months or so, he'd surely rather defend the war on terror in a Republican nomination fight than, say, No Child Left Behind. Other analysts have credited Trump with exhibiting impressive political acumen here, but it's more likely that he's chosen the wrong issue with which to exploit Jeb's very real fraternal vulnerability.

Jeb Bush and the Soft Bigotry of High Expectations

This Washington Post piece, pointedly headlined "No More ‘Shock and Awe,'" is a particularly illustrative example of the power of "expectations" in shaping news media coverage of campaigns, especially presidential primaries. The Post describes Jeb Bush's campaign as struggling both in the polls and at the task of fund-raising, quoting several Bush supporters (mostly anonymously) and unconnected Republicans as expressing surprise and disappointment at the candidate's middling performance. Instead of being an "unstoppable juggernaut," says the article, Bush has "effectively cemented his status as just another aspirant."

Bush and his advisors hoped, and even expected, to have more money and higher poll numbers at this stage of the campaign, and the article surely reflects a very real sense of dissatisfaction among his supporters and donors about the current state of the Republican race. But is Bush really just another candidate? I would guess that nearly all of his rivals would gladly trade his current level of money and support for their own, and his position looks even stronger if one heavily discounts the probability of Trump, Carson, or Fiorina—the three candidates now consistently leading Bush in the polls—actually winning the nomination.

Bush has clearly underperformed the predictions of the political class thus far, but "weaker than expected" is not the same as "weak." The case for panic is undercut by the quoted claim of an anonymous "top Bush fundraiser" that "the [poll] numbers are beginning to get hard," which is a silly thing to say four months before the first states begin to vote. There's also a certain incoherence to the roster of complaints documented in the Post article; we are told both that Bush has had problems raising money and that he's raised plenty of money (especially when his associated super PAC is included) but that these ample funds won't help him win popular support because of his other flaws as a candidate.

Regardless of accuracy or logical consistency, however, the interpretation of campaign developments by the news media can exert a significant effect on the judgments of voters, and endless headlines lamenting a struggling Bush campaign can threaten to become self-fulfilling prophecies. At the same time, there's more than enough time left before the voting begins in February for Bush to convince donors and pundits alike that he has turned his campaign around and is making a comeback. Once expectations have been lowered, after all, they become easier to meet.