Henry Olsen is correct when, in contemplating the 2024 Republican presidential primary, he writes:
An early large field does not automatically redound to Trump’s benefit. Too few delegates are at stake in the early races for him to build a lead with plurality victories. But it is crucial that candidates with no chance of winning drop out before Super Tuesday. That’s why Democratic candidates in 2020, such as Amy Klobuchar and Pete Buttigieg, abandoned their campaigns and endorsed Joe Biden within hours of Biden’s thumping South Carolina win in 2020.
The problem is, scientists and astrophysicists are still searching the galaxy for any force that has more gravitational pull than a presidential candidate’s ego. (Alternate version of that joke: They’re still searching for any celestial object that is more dense than the judgment of a presidential candidate who has no chance.)
The traditional schedule of the GOP presidential primary means that candidates can effectively choose to compete in either Iowa or New Hampshire, and write off the other state. They also don’t have to win either state to convince themselves that they’re still viable; they just need to “beat expectations,” which is a bar that can be lowered pretty easily.
Blame Bill Clinton’s 1992 campaign for managing to spin a 24 percent to 33 percent defeat to Paul Tsongas into a win, and strengthening the perception that how a candidate finishes compared to earlier polling is the real “win.” As the Clinton crew described it, years later:
Ricia McMahon, Clinton’s New Hampshire co-chair
We knew Tsongas was going to win, but we also knew that it was going to be within that magic 10 points or nine points or whatever. So Joe Grandmaison, the former state party chairman, said we should go on early and claim victory. Like at 8 p.m. Which was kind of unheard-of.
Paul Begala, Clinton’s senior strategist
Back in 1972, the press declared George McGovern the de facto winner of New Hampshire because he’d held Ed Muskie of neighboring Maine below 50 percent. Well, we’d held neighboring senator Paul Tsongas below 35 — he got 33 percent — while we’d exceeded our own poll, which projected single digits, garnering 25 percent.
Dee Dee Myers, Clinton’s campaign press secretary
There was some conversation about whether to acknowledge Tsongas or just declare victory. We landed on just declaring victory. Hillary had no love for Tsongas. No one did. And since a winner hadn’t officially been declared, our view was, let’s set the story narrative now — the Comeback Kid — and we can call Tsongas later once he’s the winner.
A candidate who wants to see reasons to stay in the race will always be able to find signs to stay in the race. We were up two percentage points in that last poll! We’re attracting really big crowds! People really loved that debate performance! We’ve got big momentum, just look at how people respond when we shake hands in a diner! Candidates can always convince themselves that the next upcoming contest is when they’re really going to surprise the doubters, and that the imminent victory will “catapult” them to the top tier.
In 2016, Chris Christie, Jim Gilmore, and Carly Fiorina stayed in through New Hampshire, even though they finished with less than 2 percent in Iowa. Jeb Bush stayed in until after South Carolina, even though he had finished with 2.8 percent in Iowa and 11 percent in New Hampshire — and then in South Carolina, he finished with just 7.8 percent. John Kasich topped out at 15.7 percent in New Hampshire, only won Ohio, and insisted upon staying until the end. Marco Rubio had a respectable 23 percent in Iowa, then stumbled badly in New Hampshire (10.5 percent), finished second in winner-take-all South Carolina (22.5 percent) and third in Nevada (23.8 percent). Rubio finished Super Tuesday cumulatively with 21.9 percent across all eleven states, but only won Minnesota. People fairly asked how many second or third-place finishes Rubio could ride to the nomination. And Ben Carson kept racking up “eh, okay I guess” results — 9.3 percent in Iowa, 2.3 percent in New Hampshire, 7.2 percent in South Carolina, 4.8 percent in Nevada, and then 5.8 percent cumulatively on Super Tuesday. Every candidate wanted to believe they were about to turn things around, and none of them dropped out until at least one state later than they should have withdrawn and endorsed their preferred rival.
Olsen is absolutely right that candidates with no chance of winning drop out before Super Tuesday. If you can’t come out on top of the heap in Iowa, New Hampshire, South Carolina, or Nevada, you’re probably not going to magically turn into a more popular candidate in the later primaries. (Let’s also note that it is extremely unlikely that in 2024, Nikki Haley or Tim Scott will drop out before the South Carolina primary.)
The problem is that candidates with no chance of winning rarely see themselves as candidates with no chance of winning. It will be a pleasant surprise if the no-hopers choose to end their campaigns before Super Tuesday. But I would expect that at least one, and perhaps more than one, will charge ahead, convinced that a miraculous comeback is just around the corner.