Because it evades my understanding, I’ve tried to imagine why anyone supports Donald Trump.
When he first announced his candidacy for President, back in 2015, I thought it was a joke. I brazenly told my brother that he’d lose all 50 states if he was the Republican nominee.
One reason for my stance was that Trump was a walking punchline in New York. His braggadocio wore thin when he filed for bankruptcy umpteen times. He was obviously not the business genius he claimed to be.
But I should have gotten a hint when I went to a party and people were raving about “The Apprentice.” It gave him an image of strength and savvy that was, like everything else in his life, a fraud.
He built a following. Republican politicians didn’t take him seriously. Democrats didn’t take him seriously.
Nine years later, he’s still here. His sense of grievance struck a chord with millions of Americans. And, despite botching COVID, leading an attempted coup and being convicted on 34 counts of fraud, he stands a decent chance of becoming our 47th President.
Why? What’s the appeal?
TV.
My generation – the baby boomers – are the first people to have grown up in a completely televised age.
My parents used to talk about listening to Jack Benny and Bob Hope on the radio. That didn’t happen for us. We watched everything – I’m old enough to remember black-and-white – every night.
And it was simple. There were three major networks. If you lived in a big city like New York, there were a couple of independent channels. There was no concept of the choices we face today.
So the TV you watched was pretty streamlined in the values and concepts it conveyed. Crime shows depicted a dangerous world that could only be preserved by steadfast law enforcers. Westerns showed the power of the good gunman. Game shows gave away dreamy prizes. All the people in sitcoms lived in houses that were much nicer than yours.
It was an aspirational world. And I think maybe my generation – and the generations that have followed – thought that. I can be a civilian and stop a criminal mastermind. I can be a factory worker and still have a 4-bedroom home. I can ride a horse into the sunset.
When our lives didn’t measure up to the ones we saw, it frustrated us. It’s not that easy to be Perry Mason or Dr. Kildare or Joe Friday.
I think maybe Trump’s appeal is to that frustration that we didn’t get the lives we fantasized on TV. And if we did – if we did get the McMansion in Bergen County or the beach house in Hyannis – we know there are people out there who want it, too.
And for both groups, there’s the perception that there are people who are newcomers or just different from us who are getting something for free – getting to that dream life we want – without the travail we endure.
When Trump talks about making America great again, he’s talking about that romanticized view of America and the disillusion that’s spreading from the boomers to those younger – and even to some who are not white, because they sense that they’re getting shut out, too.
Over the past days, I’ve tried to share my thoughts about Kamala Harris’ policies, particularly ones I believe show her aptitude and understanding of what America’s problems really are. They’re not magic cures. But they are ways to move the country forward.
She hasn’t been able to get her ideas heard because her opponent’s best chance is to manifest grievance.
It’s cynical and sad. Giving Trump another chance will tear us apart. It will end with the demise of American greatness and consequences that are almost unimaginable.
There is no alternative to Kamala Harris and Tim Walz. In the next few days, we’ll find out if we’ll make it.
SUBJECTISM 