In most elections of the past, a win is a win, whatever the margin. Not this time. The difference between a Blue Wave and a narrow Democratic victory matters immensely.
A Blue Wave means that 2027 will mark the effective end of the Trump presidency, with the final two years still full of rancor and horrible executive orders, but the focus shifting to jailing Trumpsters for defying congressional subpoenas and other forms of accountability. By contrast, a narrow Democratic victory that Trump obviously won’t accept means a crippling constitutional crisis over who controls Congress.
I see three ways Republicans avoid a blowout:
- A horrifying external event that Trump somehow handles surprisingly well;
- The 1,000 Justice Department “monitors” Trump is dispatching to polling places stealing the election, with the help of a Supreme Court that “foments chaos” (in the words of last week’s dissent by Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson) in mail-in voting;
- The hundreds of millions pumped into the campaign by Elon Musk and other billionaires blunting a fuzzy Democratic message.
We cannot predict the first; I’ve written a scenario about the second; so let’s focus for a moment on the third, which requires Democrats to avoid the DSA tag and hang Trump around the neck of their opponents in memorable ways that compensate for being outspent.
That shouldn’t be too hard. The Democrats’ message is obvious. Yes, they need to run on bread-and-butter issues, stress corruption and data centers where relevant and offer a positive vision. But all of that is in the context of reminding voters of how Trump has let them down.
Every midterm election is a referendum on the incumbent president, and his party almost always loses seats.The only exceptions, in sixth-year midterms, are Thomas Jefferson in 1806 (when his gains were slight) and Bill Clinton in 1998 (when voters backed Democrats to signal opposition to Clinton’s impeachment). This year is looking a lot like 2006, when Democrats in the sixth year of George W. Bush’s presidency picked up five seats in the Senate and 31 in the House.
How unpopular is Trump? Paging Richard Nixon in 1974 and Jimmy Carter in 1979. He’s entering their territory. We’re talking 33-34 percent approval ratings nationally.
That’s where Trump is in Maine and why you see Susan Collins desperately trying to prove her independence by opposing Trump on the U.S.-Canadian trade pact, mail-in ballots, and Todd Blanche’s nomination for attorney general.
To make Trump’s stench spread to Collins, Troy Jackson is criticizing her for voting with Trump 95 percent of the time. That’s actually lower than every other incumbent Republican senator running for reelection. One study showed that 89 percent of Republican lawmakers backed Trump 100 percent of the time on key votes.
The big question is how to make this craven congressional voting behavior—a cult-like obedience that’s infuriating in the present and will puzzle historians in the future—an indelible part of the campaign. Charging that “my opponent voted with Trump 98 percent of the time on issues that hurt you” is necessary but not sufficient.
Democrats require something a little stickier. More memorable. They need The Scarlet Letter, the “A” Hester Prynne is forced to wear on her chest in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic novel. It’s probably better that most voters haven’t read the book, because the “A” in this campaign is not for adultery (except in Ken Paxton’s case, and that of a couple of House candidates); it’s the grade these Republicans—including Collins—are giving Donald Trump.
To understand how effective this grading system can be for Democrats, consider Barack Obama’s terrific speech last fall at a rally for New Jersey gubernatorial candidate Mikie Sherrill, who went on to win a much bigger victory than expected. Obama ridiculed her opponent, Jack Ciattarelli, for giving Trump an “A” for his performance in office. “I know there’s been grade inflation, but, really, an ‘A?’” Obama said with a smile. “Is this the best we could do?”
Now, not every Democrat should run hard against Trump. It depends on the state and district. James Talarico in Texas and Mary Peltola in Alaska, for instance, are rightly steering clear of harsh anti-Trump rhetoric. But imagine Jackson turning to Collins in the Maine debate, or Sherrod Brown to Jon Husted in the Ohio debate, or Roy Cooper to Michael Whatley in the North Carolina debate—the list goes on and applies to dozens of House races, too—and asking what grade their Republican opponent gives Trump.
The answer will usually be some variation of “I don’t give grades.” The Democrat then says, “Well, in every school in this state, anything above 93 or 94 on a test gives you an ‘A.’ So let’s be clear: You are giving Donald Trump an ‘A’ as president. Not a ‘B’ or even a ‘B-plus.’ I know there’s been grade inflation, but really, is that the best we can do?”
Let’s make this the Scarlet Letter Election. Even the color is right.
