After several weeks of feverish speculation about her partner in an abbreviated presidential campaign, Democratic presidential nominee and incumbent Vice President Kamala Harris finally announced her running mate today: Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz.
As we learn more about her decision, its political ramifications will start to become clear. It is a cliché to say that deciding on a vice presidential running mate is the first major decision that voters see the nominee make. But it is true. And as the rollout takes place, the wisdom of that decision can become a major storyline on the campaign trail. As history shows, results may vary.
The most important short-term effect of the presidential nominee’s decision is to tell us who they want by their side as a governing partner and who they would want in their place should they no longer be capable of doing the job.
Some vice presidential selections have boosted perceptions of how a presidential nominee intends to govern. This is often true of outsider candidates who are not known quantities. Former Georgia Gov. Jimmy Carter set the mold in 1976 when he turned to Minnesota Sen. Walter Mondale, a Great Society stalwart and an insider on Capitol Hill. After building an entire campaign around the fact that he was an outsider to Washington—someone voters could trust in the aftermath of former President Richard Nixon’s Watergate scandal—Carter needed to send a signal to Democratic politicians and interest groups that they could trust him as well. As one of the most respected and effective liberal legislators on Capitol Hill, Carter’s pick of Mondale demonstrated that he understood the need to work within his party and not just around it. New York Times reporter Charles Mohr observed that the pick was “highly acceptable to much of the Washington political establishment, which had viewed the outsider from Georgia with disquiet.” Jimmy Who?—as newspapers joked about this unknown candidate—had sent a strong signal that as much as he railed against politics as usual, he was no fool when it came to getting things done.
Four years later, there were similar concerns among Republicans about former California Gov. Ronald Reagan. Though Reagan had excited conservative activists with his charisma and bold ideas, there were serious worries that he wouldn’t be effective in the corridors of Washington. In addition, some veterans in Washington feared that Reagan would ignore the Republican establishment and the traditional ideas held by many of its members, including fiscal conservatism and the U.S. commitment to international alliances. Reagan’s main primary opponent, former CIA Director George H.W. Bush, was the epitome of the GOP establishment. When Reagan announced that he was turning to Bush—actually a last-minute pivot following the collapse of talks to recruit former President Gerald Ford—he consolidated the entire party, as the selection helped members feel comfortable that the great communicator was also a serious politician.
In 1992, 46-year-old Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton undertook an unconventional path. With many experts predicting that Clinton had to find someone who was older and from outside the South given that the party’s power base had shifted to the coasts, Clinton instead doubled down. With Sen. Al Gore from Tennessee as his running mate, Clinton had chosen another young, centrist, television-savvy, and bright Southerner. Rather than regional balance, he sought to craft a campaign around Democrats emerging from the shadows of the Reagan era. Clinton’s first major decision signaled to voters that he really understood how the nation craved a new generation of leadership—a stark contrast to the older Bush—and that Democrats were serious about expanding their coalition, rooted in the North since the 1960s, back to the new South as well.
The message Illinois Sen. Barack Obama sent to his voters in 2008 was that he understood the need to court traditional white male working-class constituencies and to supplement his limited experience in foreign policy. For this reason, Obama turned to Sen. Joe Biden of Delaware. As Obama drew support from younger voters, college-educated suburbanites, and Black and Latino voters, he showed with the Biden choice an understanding and respect for working-class white voters—and that he, too, would do what was necessary to win over the Democratic legislative establishment. Obama also signaled that he understood the need to shore up his foreign-policy expertise; Arizona Sen. John McCain, the Republican nominee, was widely respected for his knowledge on this issue, and Obama needed to show he knew what he didn’t know. “I can tell you that Joe Biden gets it,” Obama said when he announced that Biden would be his running mate in August 2008. “He’s that unique public servant who is at home in a bar in Cedar Rapids and the corridors of the Capitol, in the VFW hall in Concord, and at the center of an international crisis.” The decision suggested Obama was not just a firebrand but that he had a sophisticated feel for the coalition he would need to win election, which he did.
And Donald Trump made an effective choice in 2016, too. With Indiana Gov. Mike Pence, Trump alleviated some concerns among the conservative base of the party that they could really trust him. Trump calmed some nerves by selecting a predictable, conventional, and reliable right-wing conservative. David McIntosh, the president of the Club for Growth, praised the choice as giving “hope that Mike Pence will be effective in pulling the Republican ticket toward economic conservatism and limited government.” Though at the time it was not clear just how turbulent Trump’s term would end up being, in the summer of 2016 his choice was perceived as offering evidence that, behind the curtains, Trump would not veer too far from the conservative coalition, particularly evangelicals, once he obtained power.
Then there were the picks that helped torpedo, or nearly torpedo, candidacies. The first major gaffe in the contemporary political era started in 1972. South Dakota Democratic Sen. George McGovern went with Sen. Thomas Eagleton. Eagleton had strong credentials. Yet the press discovered that he had suffered from depression and undergone shock treatment. When the news came out, it sent McGovern’s campaign into turmoil, resulting in Eagleton’s withdrawal from the race. At a time when mental health problems were treated as taboo, and opponents stirred fears about whether he could be trusted to one day have his “finger on the button,” the revelation raised questions about how astute McGovern was and whether he had made a carelessly hurried decision. After fighting to survive, Eagleton eventually withdrew. Was that the kind of leadership McGovern would bring to the White House? Indeed, when Carter took his time to deliberate over his choice in 1976, the press contrasted his decision-making style with that of McGovern.
Few people thought that a spelling bee would become problematic in 1988 when Vice President George H.W. Bush announced that the young and popular Indiana Sen. Dan Quayle would be by his side. At first, conservatives praised the decision. Quayle was considered a future leader in the GOP. But his vice presidential run didn’t go so well. In 1988, questions emerged about Quayle’s academic record as well as allegations that he had used connections to avoid being drafted into Vietnam through an appointment to the National Guard. According to then-Tennessee Republican State Chairman James Henry in late August: “It’s already a negative factor. It’s just a question of how much of a negative.” Though the questions did not stop Bush from being victorious, Quayle caused problems again during Bush’s reelection campaign in 1992. During a photo-op at a spelling bee in New Jersey, he corrected a 12-year-old boy named William Figueroa, who had spelled “potato” the right way. Quayle said that there should be an “e” at the end. Figueroa made things worse by telling the press that it “showed that the rumors about the vice president are true—that he’s an idiot.” As with McGovern, in 1988 and 1992, Quayle became evidence that Bush was not competent in thinking about who should surround him and that he was willing to kowtow to younger mavericks not ready to hold office.
Fast-forward to 2008, when McCain fell into the same trap. An older McCain wanted to counteract some of the excitement that Obama brought to the trail by going with Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin—who some thought represented the next generation for the GOP. But things quickly soured. Her stumbling performance in the media raised questions about McCain’s ongoing claims that he brought much more experience and wisdom to the White House. If that was true, how could he pick Palin, and what would it mean for her to be by his side once in power? During her rallies, moreover, Palin appealed to far-right, fringe elements of the party. A selection that once suggested McCain had an eye on the future ended up bringing in elements of the GOP that undermined his reputation as a reasonable, respectable, and moderate conservative in the Reagan mold.
Some are already arguing that Trump’s recent pick of Ohio Sen. J.D. Vance sent the exact wrong message about how he thinks at a critical moment. Right after the assassination attempt, there were Republicans who hoped he would pivot slightly to the center, or at least demonstrate that he wanted to broaden his coalition and act in a tamer fashion. Instead, by picking Vance at the Republican National Convention, Trump indicated he was diving deeper into chaos and radicalism. Trump’s decision offered proof to his critics, and some supporters, that he could not be trusted to surround himself with people who understood where most voters were on core issues. Vance’s proximity to Project 2025 and comments about strong-armed governance amplified concerns, rather than diminished them, about Trump’s interest in autocratic methods of rule.
In the process of selecting her running mate, Harris offered a few hints as to how she might govern. There were no significant leaks in this highly scrutinized decision-making period, which suggests that Harris wants to and can run a tight ship—a contrast with stories that emerged about turbulence among her staff. Harris also showed media savvy, conducting the rollout in a way that captured valuable attention for more than a week in a shortened campaign time frame. She can play the reality game show strategy, too. Handling press attention so effectively is like waving kryptonite in front of Trump, who thrives by dominating coverage. Harris does not get frazzled when confronted with the need to make big decisions quickly and under an intense spotlight.
Through picking Walz, Harris hopes to send a message of seriousness and stability. Walz has experience as a governor and as a U.S. representative. At 60, he is older than some of the other people considered, but not too old. Despite his avuncular personality, Walz has a serious command of policy; having him by her side shows that Harris wants to surround herself with seasoned partners who want to govern. He has experience not only in government but also outside of it, as a public-school teacher.
The Walz pick also shows that Harris wants to make decisions that respect the breadth of her coalition. The Minnesota governor is a proud progressive who does not shy away from defending social rights and championing government. He can help to fire up a base that is already fired up. Yet Walz is unusual for Democrats in that he embraces these values while also appealing to rural Americans who have veered red. Within his state, Walz has a history of doing well in Republican districts—among the kind of voters Vance likes to represent. Importantly, he appeals to such voters without selling out his political principles. He is not afraid to take on the Republicans, nor does he back away from his beliefs when confronted with the standard attacks about socialism. He is an embodiment of the alternative that exists for working Americans struggling with costs and insecurity: a path forward without the reactionary politics that have become sine qua non for the modern Republican Party.
And then there is the “weird” comment through which Walz rose to the top of the pack, framing Trump and Vance with rhetoric that caught fire within the Democratic Party. Doubling down on someone who has media savvy complements the rollout. Harris plans to build a team that can handle the press and counteract the Trumpian noise. Democrats have long complained that they are bad at messaging. Harris wants to fix that and to pass bold policies that she can sell to the public rather than assuming people will appreciate what she has done.