We all know what it’s like to have an aging laptop. The hardware, once robust, shows signs of wear from all those trips through airport security. The fan wheezes, the battery life is down to 20 minutes, and even when you plug into the mains, the once speedy processor lags.
You have been ignoring the problem for months, perhaps years, but now you have an extensive project and you’re on a deadline. You should really replace it, this old laptop on which you have relied for the last few years and whose quirks you know. But replacing it, when you’re under pressure, is stressful. You don’t need the hassle of recalling passwords, re-downloading apps, navigating the updates. There’s a long history that you only wipe after Googling an ex. So you have a choice: You either fire that old laptop up, hold your breath and hope for the best, or you stump up for the replacement, knowing that even with help from Apple’s Genius Bar, there may be unforeseen issues to delay you.
Obviously, I’m not talking about a laptop.
President Joe Biden is like a computer with both a hardware and a software problem. The hardware issues are obvious. You only had to watch him struggling several times to heave himself into the back of his SUV on Wednesday after almost crawling down the steps of Air Force One. He freezes, he shuffles, he admits that his gait isn’t what it used to be. In his recent interview with NBC’s Lester Holt, Biden’s hands kept moving to his face as if in slow motion, the faltering components of a well-worn machine.
Still, the more concerning issue lies in the software. Biden now speaks as if powered by an outdated operating system. During his debate performance, you could see him searching for his prepared files on abortion, the economy, Medicare. But his browser had too many windows open. He resembled a computer hunting for a document on a cluttered desktop.
By now it’s a familiar pattern. During his interview with BET, Biden couldn’t recall the name of his own Defense Secretary, eventually retrieving an answer with “the black man!”
This isn't just an occasional lapse, it’s a frequent struggle. The leader of the free world is running out of processing power.
Given the complexities of the issues America faces, we can’t afford a computer that frequently crashes during critical tasks. Supporters maintain his experience and steady hand outweigh these concerns—it’s like defending legacy software that, despite its quirks, still gets the job done. (I’m looking at you, Microsoft Word.)
Watching Biden navigate his public appearances, there’s a palpable sense of tension as we hold our collective breath, willing him to finish the task, hoping for a smooth performance and cringing at the inevitable gaffes. It’s a sobering reminder of the realities of aging and the intersection of physical and cognitive decline.
In the chaotic, high-stakes world of global politics, having a leader whose hardware and software are both showing signs of strain is precarious. It underscores the need for constant tech support to ensure that the machinery of governance doesn’t falter.
As we move forward, the challenge lies in balancing respect for Biden’s service and legacy with a pragmatic assessment of his ability to lead effectively.
If we were just talking about a laptop, a tech engineer might be able to patch software to extend the life of an aging system. But if we are talking about a president, a patch is not enough.
The world is speeding up, we face an AI revolution, and this week we woke up to the blue screen of death. In tech, they issue updates then work out the bugs, but Biden’s problems are no longer bugs—they have become a feature. So the question for the American electorate is do we hope for the best or demand an upgrade? We cannot afford to crash.
Joanna Coles is Chief Content Officer and Creative Officer of The Daily Beast, and executive producer of The Bold Type on Hulu