Wrestling with Apathy

Can Kamala Harris make us interested in politics again?

Well, well, well.

As recently as Sunday morning, I had been primed to write this Tuesday Note on the subject of political numbness. But then who should happen to fall from a coconut tree and interrupt my plans?

None other than Kamala Harris: Brat queen, meme candy, the only presidential candidate likely to live for more than 10 more years …

But let’s back up a bit.

It feels as though a decade of political history has happened in the past few weeks: An epically disastrous debate, an assassination attempt, a truly insane Republican National Convention. And yet, I have been feeling numbed by it all.

I’m still not entirely sure where this feeling comes from; I suspect it’s a combination of things that have been building for years.

Chaos was seeded when Trump descended from his golden escalator and has grown like a weed ever since; many of us haven’t quite recovered from the surrealism of his administration. Then there was the shock of the Covid-19 pandemic, and slow-dawning disappointment when the promised “Great Reset” never materialized.

In 2024 Trump is back, Biden is still here, and there’s a sense of inevitability: as though our political system is churning somehow of its own accord, unable to be influenced even if we desperately try. And then there’s the pace of events, which has only ramped up over time. Even the most serious of them is turned within minutes into fodder for conspiracy and absurdist memes. We’re inured to violence and a general disappointment is now the norm. Nothing seems particularly meaningful. Everything is somewhat inane.

Damir and I dug into this a bit in last week’s podcast with Yuval Levin (dip in around minutes 37 and 56). It’s obvious that the felt sclerosis of our political systems is driving citizens, especially younger ones, to apathy and nihilism.

Yuval extended this feeling to the architects of the system, too:

There is a sense in which we all approach this moment as observers and not as actors in a very strange way, including political decision makers and politicians, rather than thinking about what this calls for in terms of action. I spent a lot of time with politicians, and I have for 25 years, and they all in the last 10 years strike me as just bizarrely passive, as never imagining that the question I'm asking them is about what they will do rather than what will happen. And you see that in the kind of paralysis of both parties in a way, too.

Even politicians, who are supposed to be acting on our behalf, seem strangely paralyzed in the face of extraordinary events or even their basic responsibilities (like, say, retiring if they are clearly too old to run for office.)

But Joe Biden’s withdrawal announcement this weekend, combined with his endorsement of VP Kamala Harris as the nominee, was just unexpected enough to feel like an actual stirring of something new.

In contrast to the matchup that no-one wanted but would still be forced to endure, there’s an almost euphoric reaction to the idea that some redirection is now possible. Imagine the split screen between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump at the next presidential debate: it’s a breath of fresh air! The slime green and coconut jokes actually seem novel and optimistic, in contrast to the warmed-over culture war content that we’ve been recycling since the 2022 midterms.

Is Kamala the best candidate, chosen after a vigorous and open competition? No. Is she, on her own, a particularly inspiring figure? Probably not. The political machines will churn on, absolutely. The euphoria is certain to die down. We have to look forward, I fear, to a campaign of racism and misogyny unlike any seen before.

Alright: if I’m being honest, I still feel rather tired of it all.

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