I remember when people thought the free world was in peril because its self-appointed leader didn’t have a big enough vocabulary. There were also rumblings that, at 56, he was past his prime. This was George W Bush.
There was detailed analysis of his favourite words (“folk”, “folksy”), the span and structure of his sentences and what grade it would put him in at school. A lot of this information was passed by word of mouth, one person in 100 being online and telling everyone else, and none of us in the UK were sure what US grades meant, but we knew it didn’t put him in one of the high ones. Did he have the intelligence of a nine-year-old? A 14-year-old?
It didn’t sound good, but it also wasn’t true; there was nothing wrong with Bush’s IQ. It was just an early iteration of the rightwing manoeuvre where they pretend to be thick, to make liberals sneer at them, then turn to the voters they want, who they have assumed are stupid (well, why aren’t they rich?), and say: “Look, this is what liberals think of you.” It was bold and it broke with the conventional wisdom that leaders acted like smart people you could look up to (Ronald Reagan notwithstanding).
You could lose a lot of time wondering if Donald Trump is simply rebooting this provocative stupidity play, with extra panache and some sharks, or whether he really is as unintelligent as he sounds. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s never been anything but clear about what he wants: all that matters is whether or not he wins.
Ironically, that was the rationale for Joe Biden running again. His age didn’t matter, nor his qualities; even his polling numbers didn’t count. He was the only person who could beat Trump because he was the only person who had ever beaten Trump and therefore he was the only person anyone could imagine beating Trump.
Win-at-all-costs logic isn’t great for politics at the best of times. It strips everyone’s enthusiasm down to the bone as they jettison what matters to them for some hand-me-down formula of what it takes to win. They lumber towards the finish, thinking: well, it must be working for some people; let’s hope there are enough of them. And, fair play, sometimes there are. There were in the US in 2020.
But what we are looking at is win-at-all-costs logic spliced with “the only thing I can imagine is a thing that has already happened”, to give the elemental principle: only a winner can win. You can throw any suggestion you like into this mix – a new perspective, new blood, someone younger, someone from a different social demographic or a different wing of the party – and you will always be referred back to the people who know how to win. What do they think? Thank you for your interest, but they would prefer a winner on this occasion. Where no winner is available, perhaps you would consider a winner’s wife?
Maybe it seems presumptuous to worry about US politics, particularly now, when the UK has its own show to open, and so much sooner. Does it seem too soon, too nosy, to worry about France? Can we not just mind our own business, this of all weeks? Loth as I am to learn from anything, least of all history, this pattern of a deliberately, flamboyantly coarse and stupid right wing, petrifying its opposition into a stance so defensive that the only thing it knows how to fight is itself, is eerily familiar.
The creed of winning is irritating because it’s circular and unaccountable: those who preach it often don’t win and they seldom reflect on whether they might not know how to win, instead blaming the people who didn’t want victory enough. But it’s dangerous, because it’s risk averse. And watching that risk aversion play out in Biden versus Trump makes you realise it’s incredibly risky.
Zoe Williams is a Guardian columnist
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