The twice-failed presidential candidate’s book tour is an excruciating reminder of why she lost.
‘S ome people have said I was the most qualified candidate ever to run for president.”
This is a real quote from Kamala Harris, though it could easily be mistaken for a line from a Saturday Night Live parody. She delivered it with total earnestness at the Warner Theatre in Washington, D.C., last Thursday night. The crowd replied with boisterous cheers rather than howls of laughter.
Harris was back in the district to discuss her new memoir about the 2024 presidential race, 107 Days. (Intended subtitle, perhaps: How All of You Idiots Failed to Grasp My Political Genius.) She has been promoting the book — a glorified diary of grievances, sanctimony, and self-pity — with a tour of cities across the United States. Appearances are also scheduled for the progressive safe havens of London and Toronto.
When I arrived at the venue, I was met with two lines that circled around the block. Attendees were young and old, elegant and casual. Some of those already inside had spent hundreds of dollars on meet and greet tickets. Street vendors hawked leftover T-shirts and buttons from Harris’s 2024 campaign, emblazoned with slogans — “I’m speaking”; “She can do it!” — that had failed to resonate last year and now resemble fragments of a shattered dream. One woman marched back and forth, carrying a whiteboard with the phrase “LOTUS for POTUS” scrawled on it in black ink. Those in line nodded and yelled approvingly.
Interviewer Kara Swisher took the stage first. When she introduced Harris, the crowd exploded into a thunderous roar. Everywhere, audience members held their cellphones aloft, desperate to record a few precious moments of Harris in the flesh. As the cheers grew louder, people pounded their fists in excitement and applauded frantically. Such eruptions were so frequent throughout the night that it would be an understatement to simply label the crowd partisan. For those in attendance, this was a religious experience akin to witnessing a sacred figure descend from the heavens. The hope that their savior could still one day become president was palpable.
But why does Harris — a twice-failed candidate whose greatest accomplishment in 2024 was to appear more unlikeable than Donald Trump — still inspire such devotion among a certain faction of Democratic voters? I wondered if the evening could provide an answer. Perhaps I could come to feel the same excitement as those around me by seeing Harris face-to-face. Maybe she would seem more charming and compelling in an intimate setting than she did on the campaign trail. Unfortunately, no such magnetism revealed itself.
In person, Harris is as artificial, awkward, and strikingly uncharismatic as she appeared in televised debates, rallies, and interviews throughout both of her presidential bids. She spoke in a labored drone, offering answers to Swisher’s questions that seemed at once intensely rehearsed and messily articulated. Most of her points were little more than slapdash assemblages of clichés and platitudes; an alarm should sound every time she refers to the power of “the people” or the importance of “the fight.” When she attempted to seem more organic — at one point describing Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s apparent suggestion of a link between autism and circumcision as “f***ed up” — the result was painfully unnatural. Yet the audience greeted her every syllable with reverent shouts of affirmation. “Say the words!” someone screamed during one of her many disquisitions about Trump’s supposedly fascist inclinations.
As the talk lumbered on, Swisher turned more directly to 2024. “You faced unique challenges simply because of who you are,” she said, asking Harris whether her race or gender felt like the greatest obstacle to mounting a successful campaign. Surprisingly, Harris placed greater blame on the abridged length of her campaign than on institutionalized oppression: “There just wasn’t enough time.”
But Harris had the Biden administration’s record and resources to build on, and 107 days still afforded her ample opportunity to engage with the media and rigorously tour the country. Yet the more she appeared in the spotlight, the less palatable she became to voters. When she did give interviews, the results were largely disastrous, and her vague message of unity and good vibes failed to convince voters that things weren’t heading in the wrong direction. Joe Biden was elected in 2020 to restore stability in American life, but after four years of somnambulant leadership and his disastrous bid for reelection, the nation seemed even less stable than before. Ultimately, Harris failed to disentangle herself from the governmental chaos she helped create.
Swisher asked if a primary could have helped Harris establish a clearer image and agenda before the campaign began. “When were you gonna do a primary?” she bristled in response, as though Biden couldn’t have ended his reelection campaign months earlier and allowed an actual contest to take place. Ironically, mere moments before, Harris had denounced members of the Trump administration for their unwillingness to challenge the president because “they want power. . . . [They are] not going to compromise in service of the Constitution or democracy. . . . [They] don’t want to lose the house and yacht in the Hamptons.” If only she had been so concerned about holding those in power accountable when her own administration was desperately trying to conceal Biden’s obvious physical and cognitive decline to secure another four years in office.
When it came time for audience questions, the first was asked in a prerecorded video message by Hillary Clinton. “I debated Trump three times,” she said. “You debated him once. We beat him four times.” Clearly, he was defeated so convincingly that the American people had to elect him twice out of sympathy. After further self-congratulation, Clinton chose not to burden Harris with an interesting question. Instead, she asked if Trump is “unhinged.” “No doubt he’s unhinged,” Harris responded, branding Trump “the most callous, corrupt, and incompetent individual” in modern American politics.
How, then, does Harris explain Trump’s appeal to so many Americans? Her answer is simple — his supporters have fallen victim to an elaborate con. “I don’t know the man,” Harris said. “I debated him; I shook his hand. During the brief conversation we had he sounded very normal. That’s what con men do.” Trump, you see, never truly intended to fulfill any of his promises. “He lied, but people believed him.” Of course: Harris could only have lost the election because half of all Americans are suckers, not because of her own egregious weaknesses as a candidate. The rabid audience had clearly bought into this fantasy, but cults are never conducive to critical thinking. In the real world, continuing to portray Trump voters as stupid won’t help the Democrats build a new coalition. If the party still can’t grasp that serious concerns about the economy, immigration, and the decay of American values drew voters to Trump in 2024, it should brace for many more defeats.
Swisher fielded a few additional audience questions. Most provoked unremarkable answers by Harris about the power of joy and the evils of “titans of industry.” Eventually, Swisher raised the inescapable question: Will Harris run for president in 2028? “Maybe, maybe not,” Harris coyly replied. Seeking greater insight, Swisher asked what the Democrats should do to win back the White House. Harris then served up the final word salad of the evening, concluding that they should “deal with the immediate needs of the American people.” For its own sake, the party has an immediate need to ensure Harris never again becomes its leading figure.