Wanted: An American Starmer
Wanted: An American Starmer
Auditions are now possible. Which Democrat is up for victory in November?
In America, it can be easy to forget what liberal democracy sounds like. But it used to sound something like this:
Whilst he has been my political opponent, Sir Keir Starmer will shortly become our prime minister. In this job, his successes will be all of our successes and I wish him and his family well. Whatever our disagreements in this campaign, he is a decent public-spirited man who I respect. He and his family deserve the very best of our understanding as they make the huge transition to their new lives behind this door, and as he grapples with this most demanding of jobs in this increasingly unstable world.
Those are the words of former British prime minister Rishi Sunak in his farewell speech last week outside Number 10, Downing Street. This is how Keir Starmer responded:
I want to thank the outgoing Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, his achievement as the first British-Asian prime minister of our country. The extra effort that that will have required should not be underestimated by anyone, and we pay tribute to that today. And we also recognize the dedication and hard work he brought to his leadership.
He went on:
If you voted Labour yesterday, we will carry the responsibility of your trust as we rebuild our country. But whether you voted Labour or not, in fact, especially if you did not, I say to you directly, my government will serve you.
And, if you listen to them say these words, they even seemed to mean it. That’s what it takes to put a toxically divided country back on track toward liberal democracy, after a woundingly divisive period centered on Brexit.
No one claimed fraud. No one derided the lopsided unfairness of the parliamentary results, where Labour got 34 percent of the vote and a whopping 63 percent of the seats, and where the new rightist Reform Party won 14 percent of the vote and got only 5 seats. Those were the rules ahead of the game, and they were the rules everyone had agreed to.
There is one reason and one reason only why this kind of conciliatory exchange cannot happen any time soon in America, and that is Donald J. Trump. With a mind warped by pathological and malignant narcissism, incapable of generosity or grace or fairness, Trump has dominated this country’s politics for almost a decade now. He has systematically corroded every democratic norm and institution: the rule of law, the process of elections, the integrity of the Supreme Court, the independence of the Justice Department, the peaceful nature of the transfer of power, and the reliability of our alliances around the world. And none of this damage has been done to advance any broad policy or meaningful agenda, but merely and solely to advance the narcissism and corruption of the president himself.
No, Trump is not going to become a dictator. It’s far too much work. The system held for four years; it can hold for another four (even with presidential immunity powers). And it’s worth noting in this respect that even when the president of the United States has the entire Congress in his camp, and the Supreme Court on his side, he still doesn’t have the equivalent power of a British prime minister with a super-majority in parliament that my old classmate Keir Starmer now has. That’s an elected dictatorship.
But we do know for a fact that Trump is criminally inclined, driven by vengeance and rage, and has now been granted vague and unprecedented immunity powers by SCOTUS whose limits he will doubtless exploit. We know he will delegitimize any institution that gets in his way; and we know that electing a convicted felon who has already once tried to stop the peaceful transfer of power will be a watershed for a purported republic.
And we also know that, right now, Trump is almost certain to win an Electoral College landslide in November, for the simple reason that he doesn’t have a credible or capable opponent. Last night’s press conference scraped the bottom of acceptability for a POTUS: coherent enough to finish out his term, patently disqualifying for four more years. Two weeks ago, I wrote that the Biden campaign is over. It still is. The attempt these last two weeks to insist that the parrot is not, in fact, dead is Monty Python material. Even Barro, Chait, and Yglesias have reluctantly jumped ship! So let us remind ourselves. The Biden campaign is no more; it has ceased to be; it is bereft of life; it has kicked the bucket, hopped the twig, bit the dust, snuffed it, breathed its last. Now what?
An American Starmer. Keir is no longer the woolly-haired lefty I knew as a teenager. He has packaged himself as the un-populist bank manager who will bring back “stability and moderation” — and has gotten himself a massive majority for it. He has wrapped himself in patriotism and the flag; he has not re-opened the question of Brexit; he has scaled back many of his earlier, more ambitiously statist plans; he is a white, middle-aged executive type who will not scare the horses. After years of Tory radicalism, instability, rotating premierships, and performance art, Keir is the small-c conservative of the left. And he’s leaning into the role.
Like Biden in 2020, he won because a majority wanted the incumbent out, not because he had inspired them to an Obama revolution or Blair-style transformation. But what has struck me most about my old sparring partner in these past few years has been his absolute determination to put winning power at the core of his project. He threw the previous Labour leader, Jeremy Corbyn, out of the party entirely; he picked a chief-of-staff, Sue Gray, largely known for grinding competence, and a chancellor, Rachel Reeves, who will reassure the markets. In his first week, Starmer has appeared at the NATO summit and his government has vowed to ban puberty blockers for children with gender dysphoria.
And the way to win against Trump is, it seems to me, similar: get a generic centrist Dem from a critical swing state, make sure he or she is competent and can make a good case and seems normal, and make them 20 years younger than Trump. Bingo. There’s a reason, I suspect, why many on the Democratic left have oddly rallied behind Biden: they know their interest groups control the addled dotard’s entire social and cultural agenda; and they know that a re-elected Trump would give their extremism more legitimacy. A more moderate Democratic governor or senator would not be so pliable, and might even help to de-polarize the country. God knows and the polls all show that the American public want someone — anyone — who isn’t Trump or Biden. Why not listen to them for a change?
Beshear. Fetterman — partly because he has been so vocal in supporting Biden thus far, partly because he has seemed to master a populist style, and partly because he could carry Pennsylvania, which is looking increasingly essential. Whitmer. Shapiro. Brown. Klobuchar. Manchin. Polis. Buttigieg. I could go on. The talent has been building up as the entitled dinosaurs of Hillary and Joe kept the next generation from power for decades. Of course, Harris should compete too — and be given a shot to prove her mettle, unburdened, as it were, by her cringe-inducing past. (She’s a worse politician than Hillary, though. If selected, I have no doubt she’d lose in a landslide.)
Set up a classic old-school convention — functioning as the national primary the Democrats should have had — and out-Trump Trump in live reality-TV. If they have the balls to do this, the Democrats could enter the race on Labor Day with a fresh message of going forward into the future with a new, younger messenger, rather than returning to the melodrama of the Trump past, or the misery of continuing with Biden. That’s a theme with deep resonance — combined with a relentless exposure of Trump’s danger to the very fabric of our society.
Two weeks ago, I assumed it would be done by now. It truly is the only option available if the Democrats really do want to stop a Trump landslide. The question reverberating in my mind right now is therefore a simple one: Do they?
(Note to readers: This is an excerpt of The Weekly Dish. If you’re already a subscriber, click here to read the full version. This week’s issue also includes: a poignant conversation with Stephen Fry on bipolar depression and much more; listener and reader commentary on the presidential race, IVF, and losing a parent; 12 notable quotes for the week in news, including two Poseur Alerts; 22 pieces on Substack we recommend on a variety of topics, primarily the UK and US elections; a Mental Health Break of musical Minecraft; a fishy window from Alaska; and, of course, the results of the View From Your Window contest — with a new challenge. Subscribe for the full Dish experience!)
A subscriber writes:
First things first: prayers for your mother, Andrew. And for you. These are difficult times, and they’re when I’m most grateful for a faith that sustains.
On the Dishcast, you are really finding your stride. The episodes with George Will and Elizabeth Corey were truly outstanding. (Time to get reading some Oakeshott!) Though I dissent over the one with Kara Swisher — not so great. (I get it — you share so much history, especially in the groundbreaking days of digital journalism, but it was just overly chummy.)
Your IVF column and the subsequent reader dissent and stories are why I love the Dish, and why I think you have created the absolute finest example of journalism in this new age. The Dish is setting a standard for the rest of us to follow: thoughtfulness, courage, and intellectual rigor — i.e., the insistence on dissent.
New On The Dishcast: Stephen Fry
Stephen Fry is a legendary British actor, comedian, director, writer, and narrator. His TV shows include “A Bit of Fry & Laurie,” “Jeeves and Wooster,” and “Blackadder,” and his films include Wilde, Gosford Park, and Love & Friendship. His Broadway career includes “Me and My Girl” and “Twelfth Night.” He’s produced several documentary series, including “Stephen Fry: The Secret Life of the Manic Depressive,” and he’s the president of Mind, a mental health charity. He has written 17 books, including three autobiographies, and he narrated all seven of the Harry Potter books. You can find him on Substack at The Fry Corner — subscribe!
Listen to the episode here. There you can find two clips of our convo — on the profound pain of bipolar depression, and whether the EU diminishes Englishness. That link also takes you to commentary on last week’s episode with Erick Erickson. We also run emails on Biden and Harris, readers relating to my mother’s death, and a final batch of stories for the IVF thread, with my responses throughout.
Browse the Dishcast archive for an episode you might enjoy (the first 102 are free in their entirety — subscribe to get everything else). Coming up: Lionel Shriver on human limits and resentment, Anne Applebaum on autocrats, Eric Kaufmann on reversing woke extremism, and Bill Wasik and Monica Murphy on animal cruelty. (Van Jones’ PR team canceled his planned appearance.) Please send any guest recs, dissents, and other comments to dish@andrewsullivan.com.
Dissents Of The Week
We didn’t have a column last week, because I was with my mum in her final days, and the dissents for the previous column — “For God’s Sake, Withdraw” — are on last week’s pod page, if you missed them. If you have a dissent for this week’s edition, please send it our way: dish@andrewsullivan.com.
You can follow more Dish discussion on the Notes site here (or the “Notes” tab in the Substack app).
In The ‘Stacks
This is a feature in the paid version of the Dish spotlighting about 20 of our favorite pieces from other Substackers every week. This week’s selection covers subjects such as the UK election, the looming US election, and Kamala’s record on the sex-abuse crisis. Below are a few examples and a brand new substack:
Ted Gioia’s humanities course is off to a smashing start.
Jeremy Scahill and Ryan Grim ditch The Intercept to form Drop Site — “a non-aligned, investigative news organization.” Welcome!
“Traditional media and Substack can grow together,” insists Hamish McKenzie. Indeed!
You can also browse all the substacks we follow and read on a regular basis here — a combination of our favorite writers and new ones we’re checking out. It’s a blogroll of sorts. If you have any recommendations for “In the ‘Stacks,” especially ones from emerging writers, please let us know: dish@andrewsullivan.com.
The View From Your Window Contest
Where do you think it’s located? (The cartoon beagle is hiding a key clue.) Email your guess to contest@andrewsullivan.com. Please put the location — city and/or state first, then country — in the subject line. Proximity counts if no one gets the exact spot. Bonus points for fun facts and stories. The deadline for entries is Wednesday night at midnight (PST). The winner gets the choice of a VFYW book or two annual Dish subscriptions. If you are not a subscriber, please indicate that status in your entry and we will give you a free month subscription if we select your entry for the contest results (example here if you’re new to the contest). Contest archive is here. Happy sleuthing!
The results for this week’s window are coming in a separate email to paid subscribers later today. Here’s a preview of one entry:
We must commend your throwback to the Guatemala City contest. What we’re looking at this week is a view that has virtually identical framing: two tall buildings on two sides of a parking structure roughly three stories high. A second parking area to the right. The window from which we’re looking is almost as challenging as that of a Guatemalan building that literally grew between Street Views.
Not sure if you're deliberately courting controversy, but I think it is fair to say: you’d better have a picture of the fucking window, or there will be hell to pay! (Not least from the spicy dissenter in L'affaire Guatemala. We wish him better luck this time.)
From the sleuth who submitted the contest photo: “So there’s no controversy, I included a photo of the floor map and an outside photo of my wife waving from the window itself.” Here’s a zoomed-in version of the latter:
Another sleuth writes:
I like to always look on the bright side of life, and it occurred to me after the presidential debate that you’ll be getting lots of great views from around the world as sleuths flee the country. Maybe we can put together a four-year international cruise with movie nights, lectures on local history and biology, concerts, banquets, and cocktail and wine seminars.
See you next Friday.