The Worst-Case Scenario in November?

I t should by now be clear to Americans that to say in earshot of the public that something is “not going to happen” is to tempt the political gods. There was “no way” that Donald Trump was going to become the Republican nominee, let alone the president of the United States. There was “no way” that Ruth Bader Ginsburg was going to die at exactly the point in the 2020 cycle that would cause the most disruption. And there is “no way” that President Trump is going to win reelection to the presidency while his party loses control of the Senate.

Consider the possibility of “way.”

To me, the idea that Trump might win while his party loses seems entirely plausible. If the enthusiasm gap is as it seems to be; if turnout resembles 2016 more closely than 2018; and if the battleground polls are off by as much as they were four years ago, we could watch in surprise on Election Night as Trump wins narrowly in Florida, Arizona, and North Carolina, outperforms expectations in the Rust Belt, and repeats his performances in Iowa and Ohio, while Republican Senators in North Carolina, Arizona, and Iowa run enough behind him to lose, and the party’s incumbents in Colorado and Maine are kicked out of the upper chamber. Recall that in 2012, Republican Senate candidates ran behind Mitt Romney in 24 states.

That I can imagine this does not, of course, mean that I wish to. Indeed, I would suggest that this may be the nightmare scenario for conservatives — an outcome that is potentially worse than losing everything. Lest I be misunderstood, I remain of the view that one should never try to play clever “what if?” games with one’s vote or one’s aspirations; instead, one should vote and hope as one wishes and let others do the same. (If you are interested in how I personally intend to navigate this election, you can read all about it here.) Nevertheless, as an intellectual exercise, it is worth considering the longer-term effects of this year’s election from all angles. Yes, yes — the “future of the country is at stake,” I agree. But, because we do not live in a dictatorship, the “future of the country” is not, in fact, going to be decided on November 3. By design, the presidency is just one of many moving parts within the American constitutional system, and, as a result, we are not voting for a settlement but for a government. The shape of that government is going to matter.

If Trump is inaugurated for a second time in January, it might indeed send a message to the Democrats that they need to calm down. If so, this would be welcome. But once that message has been sent, then what? Without any help from Congress, Trump would be unable to do anything concrete. He could pass no legislation, push through no judges, and negotiate no treaties with a chance of being approved. Which would leave him to . . . what? Tweet? The best argument for Trump as president is that though what he says is abhorrent, what he does is often worthwhile: “But Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh, and Barrett, and the tax cuts, and . . . take your pick.” Yet without the parts after the “but,” you are left with nothing but impotent rage. Even with a disciplined president at the helm, second terms tend to go off the rails. Does anyone believe that Donald Trump is going to buck this trend as an isolated, angry lame duck? Does anyone believe that the situation will improve?

No president in recent decades has failed to beat the “six-year itch.” Democrats won both the Senate and the House in 1986, six years into Ronald Reagan’s presidency, just as they did in 2006, six years into George W. Bush’s. Bill Clinton lost both chambers of Congress after just two years and never recovered them. Barack Obama lost the House after two years and the Senate after six. In all likelihood, a reelected President Trump would preside over a “shellacking” at the congressional and state levels, and, in so doing, set the Democratic Party up nicely for a 2024 sweep.

In and of itself, this is not a reason to fret. Politicians are given power so that they can get things done — or, just as important, so they can block things they disdain from getting done. Sometimes that power has to be used even if using it has serious costs. But it is hard to think what exactly it is that a reelected President Trump could achieve without any friends in leadership positions in the legislature.

The usual answer to this question is, “We need him to block the crazy.” I am sympathetic to this argument, and perhaps even convinced by it. But it is unclear whether obstruction is a solid long-term strategy, given that, by serving as the veto point within the system, Trump would likely encourage voters to hand more, not less, power to his opponents — and do so without any incentive to claw that power back. On paper, the prospect of Republicans’ losing everything sounds terrific for Democrats. At last: Unified government! But, despite the party’s Jacobinesque turn, a President Biden with a medium-sized House majority and a one- or two-vote majority in the Senate is unlikely to be able to remake the country, to blow up the Supreme Court, or to admit new states for the purpose of expanding the Democrats’ power. Moreover, the electorate’s tendency to turn on the party that controls the White House would almost certainly serve to temper the Democrats’ ambitions and prevent the consolidation that is the prerequisite to most landslides. At present, Republicans control the Senate, 53–47. If they lose that control, it will be because Democrats won seats in the states of Arizona, Iowa, Colorado, Maine, Montana, North Carolina, or South Carolina — none of which are hotbeds of extremism. As of today, the RealClearPolitics average shows the Democrats taking the upper chamber by a single vote — 51–49. Among those senators will be Joe Manchin and Jon Tester and, if the polls hold, Mark Kelly of Arizona, who, because he is running in a special election to serve out the remainder of the late John McCain’s term, will be up for reelection in 2022. I am as alarmed as anybody by the Democrats’ radical threats. I am also aware that the conditions in which a successful Democratic Party would find itself after November would make the execution of those threats nigh on impossible.

During election season in America, our language at first tends toward the martial, and then becomes naturalistic. Our politicians run “campaigns” that “target” “battlegrounds,” and then, when they are finished, we look for “waves,” “landslides,” and “realignments.” This year, however, perhaps a better metaphor might be that of the circus. In 2020, our politicians are animals and clowns who, in the absence of anything better to do, are trying to cross a tightrope in the wind. A few gusts here and there and they will fall off. In which direction? We’ll have to wait and see.