For most of my life, the joke among conservatives was that “Republicans were the stupid party, and Democrats were the evil party.” Those party generalizations may be past their prime.
Consider the confluence of events that swamped my Twitter timeline this past week. Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, a Republican, said of Dr. Anthony Fauci, “Someone needs to grab that little elf and chuck him across the Potomac.” Dr. Mehmet Oz, the Republican nominee in Pennsylvania for the U.S. Senate, said this about his political opponent: “If John Fetterman had ever eaten a vegetable in his life, then maybe he wouldn’t have had a major stroke and wouldn’t be in the position of having to lie about it constantly.”
And it gets (arguably) worse. On Tuesday, alt-right activist Laura Loomer (whom Trump endorsed for her 2020 race) lost her Republican primary in Florida. “I’m not conceding, because I’m a winner!” the loser ranted.
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In 2022, this behavior seems only mildly shocking. But not that long ago, making any of these statements would have been almost unthinkable. Yes, politics has always had its share of bad people. But at some point in recent years—no doubt, a byproduct of Donald Trump’s arrival on the political scene—acting like an asshole became a smart political strategy.
It’s unclear whether Loomer is sincerely unhinged or merely playing a role. Regardless, you might forgive her for thinking that conceding an election loss is for suckers.
Meanwhile, on the anniversary of former Sen. John McCain’s death, the New Hampshire Libertarian Party tweeted a picture of Meghan McCain sobbing by her father’s flag-draped coffin, with the words, “Happy Holidays.” (You can’t blame this one on the GOP, but the NH Libertarian Party’s site retweets Republican Rep. Thomas Massie and the Ron Paul Institute—to give you a hint which side of the political spectrum they are on.)
In the past, decency would dictate that if someone whose politics you found abhorrent died, you wouldn’t dance on their grave. If you lost an election—even if you thought there was some funny business (see Richard Nixon’s loss to John F. Kennedy in 1960)—you graciously conceded for the good of the country, and your own political future. If your opponent suffered a stroke, you wished him a speedy recovery. And if a man who has spent decades leading the fight against infectious disease announced his retirement, you wouldn’t mock him in a way that could potentially inspire violence.
You wouldn’t do this because it is wrong. But you also wouldn’t do this because it would have backfired. Badly. And it would have ruined your reputation going forward.
So why is this rewarded today? Obviously, our culture has coarsened. But I know a lot of Republican voters who are decent in their personal lives. Perhaps some view this behavior as mere entertainment. Or maybe they view politics as war, and they rationalize it through the guise of the just war theory. Whatever the case, it’s a stretch to call yourself a good person and simultaneously support this sort of rhetoric and poor conduct.
The world works better when people’s personal moral standards and society conspire to reward good behavior. Today, the system rewards bad behavior. Rather than turning off voters who see him as a bully or a blowhard, DeSantis is lauded as a “fighter.”
I’m no fan of California Gov. Gavin Newsom, but he showed some real righteous indignation when he said of DeSantis: “I don’t like bullies.”
“To call [Dr. Fauci] pejorative terms because they’re short,” Newsom continued, “who the hell raised these guys?... I got four kids, I don't want these guys being [role] models.”
Once upon a time, that’s the kind of conservative finger-wagging my parents might have delivered while criticizing foul-mouthed Hollywood liberals.
Newsom is 100 percent correct, but how many voters will agree? My guess is DeSantis will benefit from both his own comments—and the criticism against them.
Instead of the public revolting against a sore loser who tried to stay in power, Trump was rewarded for pretending he won the election (and the Laura Loomers of the world are now incentivized to take a page from this playbook).
The perverse incentives may not be enough to save Dr. Oz’s floundering campaign. But his biggest sin is that he simply isn’t believable as a bully. Meanwhile, John Fetterman… is.
Speaking of Fetterman, in this instance, he actually responded like an adult: “I had a stroke. I survived it,” Fetterman said in a statement. “I know politics can be nasty, but even then, I could never imagine ridiculing someone for their health challenges.”
In today’s Republican Party, you don’t have to imagine. It’s already an unfortunate reality.
