Tag Archives: Republican Party

It’s Not The Economy. Maybe It’s The Stupid.

Republican lawmakers are currently defying one of the most widely accepted laws of political thermodynamics: for every economic motion there is a parallel and sympathetic political reaction. Or, as the Cajun Clinton whisperer James Carville put it, “it’s the economy, stupid.”

Okay, so it’s not exactly a law. But what’s good for the economy is good for whatever crew is running the government–especially the White House division–has proven a pretty good rule of thumb. As has its reciprocal. If the Dow Jones skitters down a gopher hole it’s a good bet the president’s approval rating is also going subterranean. Just ask Bush 43. Or Bush 41.

Which is why the GOP currently seems to be defying political gravity. By just about any measure the economy is rocking. The stock market sizzles, unemployment is 4 percent, GDP growth is a robust 3.2 percent, and a tight labor market has wages on the rise, which is good news for the lunch pail sectors that repeatedly got the shaft while the one percenters expanded their goldmines. When the git-yer-jollies-on money machine cranks up pols instinctively know there’s credit to be claimed in them thar dividends. So given all the economic positives, the piggy backers, windbags and horn blowers in charge should be huffing through a victory lap, throwing humblebrags to the voters, and sailing toward comfortable reelections.

Yet our GOP overlords seem to be reaping little of the political reward that normally accrues to lawmakers lucky enough to rule at the hilly end of the business cycle. Indeed, as measured by popular approval ratings, they are getting slammed. Forget rodent holes. Republican poll ratings are so low they have to look up to see gopher butt. Donald Trump’s approval ratings are stuck in the 30s, which is historically terrible, but still nearly double that of Republicans and their leaders in Congress (Mitch McConnell’s public approval is roughly the same as the tatometer rating for Showgirls which is, well, not good). Dozens of Republican members of Congress aren’t even waiting for the voters to render a verdict on their record of governance. So many have announced retirement there’s been a run on gold watches. What in the name of Milton Friedman is going on?

It’s a multi-variate world and there’s more than one reason why the economy is going up while the GOP’s popularity sinks lower than gum stuck to a submariner’s shoe. Certainly the, um, character issues of the president have something to do with it. There are many ways to ding your party’s reputation, and certainly doing stuff like referring to vast swaths of the planet as “shitholes” and paying hush money to porn stars is right up there. Especially if you already have a permanent case of the tweet trots and spent the past a year cementing a reputation as a chaos artist. True believers please feel free to insert here the obligatory all-purpose, all-caps snappy comebacks here. FAKE NEWS!!! WHAT ABOUT HER EMAILS!! Persuasive stuff, as always.

Now that’s out of the way, let me say I don’t think it’s just Trump’s coarse and immature shenanigans that has the Republicans in trouble (though it sure hasn’t helped). A big part of the problem is that Republicans continue to govern as if they swept into office on the back of a clear mandate, and they weren’t. According to the Federal Election Commission,  there were roughly 180 million votes cast for Democratic candidates in 2016 (this is the combined total for president, Senate and House), and about 168 million cast for Republican candidates.* In other words, as a whole the American electorate had a slight, but clear, preference for the Democratic Party. And it got a wholly Republican government.

There’s nothing wrong or suspicious or nefarious about this. The whole federal electoral system is based on state and sub-state constituencies, there is no nationally elected office (the president is elected by the states through the Electoral College, not the people), and parts of it are wildly malapportioned (the United States Senate). So the way the math works out, it’s not exactly a shocker that one party can be elected to control government even though, overall, it has less support among voters than the party consigned to the minority. The GOP won fair-sies square-sies and those still whining to the contrary just don’t understand the system.

Yet winning isn’t enough to make a go of governing. I’ve made this basic point before, but it bears repeating: the weird situation of a party controlling a democratic government when it was opposed by most voters at the polls means governing style really matters. Writing laws in secret (and employing industry hacks as ghostwriters), bending norms and rules to avoid bipartisan engagement (or even debate) might work if a sizeable majority is cheering you on. The problem for the GOP is they have no such constituency. And they’re unlikely to get one if they keep doing what they’re doing. Indeed, a plurality of the electorate (perhaps even a majority) already seems to view them less as agents for the American people, but as a group that sold its soul–not to mention its dignity–for power. That creates a big legitimacy problem.

Specifically, it translates into a lack of public approval, economy be damned. An ill-advised approach to process, treating indefensible proclamations from the party chief with situational amnesia, vacuous appeals to alt-facts, etc., etc., all this starts to catch up. Smart conservatives–and there’s still plenty around–have been shouting about this for a while (David Brooks, Jeff Flake, Charlie Sykes, even Ben Shapiro). It’s just that their own side isn’t listening.  And they should, because at some point it’s not the economy, stupid, that’s the issue. Sometimes it’s just the stupid.

*There were also about 18 million votes cast for non-major party candidates.

 

Okay, So Now What?

The Republican Party has notched its first big legislative win of this Congress, and has cranked the hyperbole machine to redline in celebration of their achievement. For President Trump it’s a down payment on making America great again. To Mitch McConnell it’s sweet, sweet relief. It appears to have given Paul Ryan a policy-gasm, an Atlas-mugged-while-having-an-Ayn-Randian- eye-roller sort of scenario.

The cause of all the giddy bluster and gloat is, of course, passage of the tax bill, a hugely complicated piece of legislation that, even now, few people have actually read and whose consequences are fully grasped by no one. Certainly not the legislators who voted for it, up to and including the self-satisfied magnificoes currently taking a victory lap and getting their boast on. It’s a dead certainty it rewards corporations with fattened profit margins, and there’s no doubt that it will give swells like our president more of the gravy. Those of us whose position in the proportional distribution is not within hailing distance of the one percent will get a few crumbs for a few years, but then it all goes away and our taxes start going up again.

While we know, at least in rough outline, that much about the tax bill, it’s just a smidge of what the furious midnight scribblings of a thousand lobbyists have actually wrought upon our economy, the government’s fiduciary position, and our personal finances. The bill is shot through with pecuniary pork for the favored water haulers of the GOP. Senator Bob Corker, for example, was shocked—shocked I tell you—that people thought he flipped his vote just because of a last minute addition to the bill that would personally enrich him. Riiiight. The entire bill is a stew of Corker kickbacks seasoned with ideological wishful thinking and held together with ambiguity and Oxford commas. Once touted as a simplification drive that would shrink tax returns to a post card, in reality this legislative stinker could have been more accurately called the Tax Accountant Full Employment Act. It’s all exception and deception, loop and hole, and TurboTax’s coders are going to be putting in overtime to get their algorithms around it all.

While we really don’t know what the tax bill does, we do know what the governing party has done in order to pass it. They have written a law in secret, shoved it through a legislature by running roughshod over procedural norms and bipartisan collegiality, and are engaging in a festival of self-congratulatory whoop-dee-doo behind a smoke screen of sophistry.

What’s truly odd about all this is that nobody outside of GOP patricians seems to care. True, public opinion is clearly against the legislation, with a majority of Americans viewing it as something primarily designed to benefit the rich. There’s no real groundswell of anger and opposition, though, certainly nothing on the order of the backlash that put the kibosh on Obamacare repeal. The best summary of public reaction to the tax bill, even among Trump supporters, is “meh.” The GOP is using the government as a scoop to shovel more coin into the pockets of the gilded and the glamorous? Shoving stuff down our throats even though a clear majority of us clearly don’t want it? Shrugs-ville. The public no longer seems to be shocked or upset at the GOP doing that sort of thing, it’s what they expect the Republican Party to do. In other words, act as an agent for affluent, willing to cut whatever corners needed to bring tribute to its corporate sponsors.

That’s a pretty dangerous position for a political party—especially a governing political party—to be in. If public opinion polls are to be believed (admittedly, a debatable proposition), the GOP’s first big legislative “win” is being viewed as an act of fealty to a privileged minority, something done in defiance of the will of the people and with contempt for the norms of lawmaking. Flushed with success, the Republican leadership is now promising to go on to bigger and better things. But what might they be? What can the GOP get done when with its only big legislative score has left the public cold, made a mockery of the legislative process, shredded bipartisanship, and produced a law that nobody really understands? Well, you got me.

Messrs. Trump, McConnell and Ryan, have taken a bow, crowed some crow and patted each other’s backs raw. Okay, so now what?

The GOP’s Sunset Judges

John Adams, second president of the United States and noted puritanical sourpuss, had a tough start to 1801. The election of 1800 had been brutal to Adams and his Federalist Party, an epic fanny kicking from that insufferable know-it-all Thomas Jefferson and his smug gang of waffle whisperers, the (to us) oxymoronically named Democratic-Republican Party.

Even worse than losing control of the executive and legislative branches of government was the dawning realization that as a political force, the Federalists were spent. While the party would stagger on as a regional player in New England for another decade or so, the Federalists were done as a national-level electoral threat. The rump of their Congressional caucus retreated into opposition and soon receded into nothingness.

So, you can understand Adams’ agony in the first months of 1801. Under the rules of the day, Jefferson–who Adams saw as little more than as a cheese-eating Gauloises puffer–didn’t take office until March. Adams, therefore, had plenty of time to contemplate the electorate’s rejection of his political party and marinate in the vinegary knowledge that the Democratic-Republicans would be ruling the roost for the foreseeable future. How could the Federalists retain even a smidge of influence if the voters viewed them as toxic?

Well, there is one other branch of government that, luckily for Adams, was largely insulated from the electorate. Members of the federal judiciary never have to chance the ballot box to keep their jobs and once appointed, unless they engage in felony-level naughtiness, they are in for life. And thus the Adams administration hit upon a formula for insuring long-term influence for a political party just categorically rejected by the voters. The Federalist congress jammed through a bill creating a bunch of new federal courts. Adams stuffed these with the so-called “Midnight Judges,” last-minute appointees specifically selected to insure the Federalists would continue to rule on the big issues of the day for years to come.

I kind of wonder if we’re seeing something similar going on with Donald Trump and the Republican Party right now. The comparison might be a little strained because, electorally speaking, they are not lame ducks, but young fowl still dipping their beaks into the sweet, sweet spoils of victory. Yet if public opinion is any guide, the president and his party are already less popular than the Federalists. Indeed, their polling numbers are so low they have to look up to see whale butt (Nate and crew over at FiveThirtyEight can give you all the gory details). So, while there may be no official lame ducks, recent election results and survey trends suggest the Republican Party definitely is developing a bit of a gimp.

Even if it is headed for an electoral smash-up, though, the party’s long-term influence is being secured through a pell-mell drive to appoint judges. And, thanks to the GOP’s bang up job of sidelining Barrack Obama’s appointments, there’s a lot of judgeships to fill. So, if you’re pro-life, pro-business, pro-corporation, anti-environment, anti-public schools, no probs. Even a complete tanking at the ballot box by Republicans means the black robe set will be there to help insure that your bank or hedge fund is safe from predatory customers wanting to know where their money went. These aren’t midnight judges so much as sunset judges. Right now, there’s still plenty of light falling on Republicans, but these appointments are like early stars that will continue to provide ideological illumination for the GOP should its electoral fortunes go dark.

While it all smacks of unseemly partisan fiddling with the scales of justice, Adams’ appointments showed this sort of sneaky-beaky could have an upside. One of his midnight judges was none other than Chief Supreme Court Justice John Marshall, one of the most important and influential jurists of his and any other era. Trump’s appointments, though, don’t seem quite in that league. Take Matthew Petersen. At his confirmation hearing, under gentle questioning from a Republican Senator about his qualifications for the bench, Petersen all but said, “I don’t know jack about the law, but think I could swing a mean gavel” (you can watch a cringe-inducing video of this exchange here). But there’s also Brett Talley who, among other things, posted online smoochies to the KKK and forgot his wife worked in the White House office. How did a guy like that end up getting nominated? Well, Talley’s job—I’m not making this up—was deciding who would make a good judicial nominee for the Trump administration. Not hard to connect dots there. There’s also Jeff Mateer, who was so impartial and committed to due process for all that he declared transgender children as part of “Satan’s plan” and disgusting.

These three guys’ nominations failed because even Republicans dedicated to the lickety-split process of stuffing as many conservatives onto the court as possible blanched. Yet they’re completely fine with giving the likes of Leonard Steven Grasz a lifetime appointment, even though Grasz was rated unqualified to serve by the American Bar Association. The basic consideration for being rated qualified by the ABA is pretty minimal. Having a law degree and the power of speech is usually does the trick (less than one-tenth of one-percent of nominees get rated unqualified). The ABA interviewed a couple of hundred people about Grasz and heard a consistent story that, among other things, Grasz was an unrelenting ideologue and was “gratuitously rude.” To the GOP, that was just sort of guy who should be a federal judge.

Grasz, along with the rest of Trump’s huge swath of nominees, will spend decades on the bench, their appointments encasing in political amber the ideals of the party currently holding power. Whatever the electoral future of the GOP, its sunset judges ensure its influence will continue. Adams would be proud.

Winning is a Loser for the GOP

Roy Moore (R-19th Century) lost to Doug Jones (D-Surprised) in Alabama’s special election to replace Jeff Sessions (R-I Don’t Recall). But it’s not really clear who actually won. Dems–and certainly Jones–might take issue with that. Well, fair enough, it would be churlish not recognize this as a big fat blue W, a triumph achieved in the reddest of red states. As those sort of wins are rare as principled legislators on the Senate floor, it’s hard to begrudge them a whoop and a victory lap.

Funnily enough, though, this was also a win for Republicans or, to be more accurate, the least painful form of defeat. In this election, no positive outcome was possible for the GOP. Moore gets elected and Republicans either seat someone credibly charged with sexual abuse of minors, or expel one of their own. Political hot potato doesn’t do that scenario justice. That’s a tuber of incandescent sizzle, a pickup-sized root vegetable packing more capsaicin than a jalapeno. A Moore win would have forced the Senate GOP to choke down that sucker whole while the entire nation watched their faces turn red and tears squirt from their eyes. No sane Republican wanted that for their party; it would’ve been preface to civil war or moral disarmament, and maybe both.

Some Republicans–Donald Trump and the RNC–were clearly willing to take those risks and threw in their lot with Moore. Plenty of other Republicans–Mitch McConnell, Jeff Flake, Richard Shelby, Paul Ryan, Mitt Romney, etc.–approached the special election with clearer eyes and colder calculations about the costs of a Moore victory. The GOP grownups actively opposed Moore and/or supported Jones for a simple reason. The only way forward they could see for their party was to have their own candidate lose. Tuesday’s result gave this pretty large group of Republicans what they wanted. They won. By losing.

Unfortunately for Republicans, their through-the-looking-glass political calculus of gaining political victories with defeats is not limited to this one special election. The no-Moore gambit isn’t a one-off tactical hit, a losing a battle to win a war sort of thing. The Republican Party seems to have adopted a full blown strategy of winning by losing. They won the presidency, but lost the dignity of that office. They won a Congressional majority, but lost the ability to govern themselves. They won control of government, but lost the faith of the people. They won power, but seem to have lost their soul. When you’re reduced to calculating whether to support a suspected pedophile or attack a candidate fair-and-square selected by your own voters, you really are at the point where losses count as wins.

Voters on Tuesday, no doubt, saved the Republican Party an enormous amount of humiliation and discomfort. Yet while Alabama prevented the GOP from publicly airing its crimson hide in a painful expulsion debate, this was balm for a symptom rather than a cure for the underlying problem. The problem is the Republican Party is imploding under its own success. They have somehow got themselves into a corner where their “victories” exact enormous–potentially existential–political costs. Yet they can’t afford too many losses, because losing runs the risk of exposing the GOP as a party more than willing to lose its principles as long as it wins power.

Thinking Republicans–and, despite recent evidence to the contrary, there’s still plenty of these folks around–not only recognize this, they’re agonizing over it. This list includes people like Charlie Sykes, David Brooks, George Will, Jeff Flake, and many more, a long list of those reluctant to accept a majority stake in government for their party if it means choking down the populist-flavored Kool-Aid Donald Trump is serving up.

So where does this leave the Republican Party? Other than cleaved in two, it’s hard to say. The populist and establishment wings are openly warring with each other and it’s not clear what, if anything, holds them together as a coherent political force. There’s no discernible consistent philosophical or intellectual principle driving its policy agenda. The primary motivation behind the party increasingly seems to be the pursuit of power because it makes it easier to stick it to a varied group of people and institutions–immigrants, the poor, environmentalists, scientists, the media, public schools, higher education, and especially Democrats–they see as causing them grief.  The closest thing to a guiding set of principle seems to be an infomercial pitch that the new and improved tax-cuts-for-the-rich will cure everything–Unemployment! Manufacturing malaise! Healthcare! Whooping cough! Zits! This doesn’t seem to be fooling anyone any more, including large swaths of the party faithful. It’s getting harder and harder even for GOP stalwarts to buy into the populist piffle and accusatory tweet storms that increasingly characterize Republican governance.

Maybe the party could win by suffering a massive loss in the 2018 midterms. A period in the wilderness might give it a shot at reflection and rejuvenation, or at least a chance for its dueling wings to get into the full-throated death match members of both camps are clearly lusting for. Whoever emerged from that throw-down would at least give us a clear idea of whether the GOP really wants to be the center-right party of Reagan or the champion of alt-right populism. Regardless, if they retain control of government in their current state there’s a very real possibility they cease to be a viable political party in any form, at least over the long term.  Unfortunately for the GOP, its midterm opponent is the Democratic Party, which rarely misses an opportunity to snatch defeat from the mandibles of victory. So, Republicans might have one more victory left in them. And that means they will lose. By winning.

A Poll of Scorn Flakes

Remove the electoral horizon from a Republican member of the United States Senate these days and the result is an astonishing ocular descaling. With no next election occupying the majority of their visual field such legislators are finally free to take a clear-eyed look around them. As Jeff Flake, Bob Corker and John McCain are making abundantly clear, they don’t like what they see.

Because of voluntary retirement (Flake and Corker) or serious health issues (McCain), this trio is in the unusual position of not giving a hoot about the alt-right persecution platoons flitting through the fevered primary nightmares of their elected GOP brethren. Nor do they have to fear a 140-character Trump dump flushing their political careers down the Fox hole. They no longer have to worry about looking good to the right donors or the right special interest groups.

With their political peepers released from the need for the constant short-term vigilance on anything that might affect their chances in the next election, they’re staring hard at something else: Their own political party.  And, ouchie-mama, if you believe these guys, things ain’t looking good.

In the past week or two, they’ve certainly not been shy about reporting the perspective from their own-side eyeballing. The report basically boils down to this: “Hey, has anyone noticed? Our party just got a louche, unqualified bully elected president! We’re piddling on principle in our pursuit of power! We’re pushing half-baked policies with fibs and fabulation! Has anyone else noticed how surly and loutish we’ve become?” I’m paraphrasing, of course. But this is the general sentiment emanating from Flake’s extraordinary denunciation of his president (and party) from the Senate floor, Corker’s ongoing campaign of I-call-bull on the Donald and his inept minions, and McCain’s full-throated condemnation of the cockeyed populism hijacking the GOP.

Reactions to this have been mixed. The White House is in full there is no-way-they-can-see-the-emperor’s-unmentionables-through-so-many-layers-of-clothing mode. Democrats and lefties have suddenly rediscovered their respect for principled conservatives, making much noise about honorable men elevating values and comity over partisan point scoring. GOP colleagues in the Senate have mostly been silent, which can only be interpreted as “we can see the emperor’s junk clear as day, but we’re keeping mum in hopes of keeping our jobs, kudos to you guys for saying what we’re all thinking.”

Well, fair enough. Agree or disagree with them, not many these days have the onions to proclaim that their own side is two turnips short a full measure of root vegetables. Yet before anyone gets too misty eyed about the Mr. Smith goes to Washington performances or too choleric about their turncoat tirades (and, let’s face it, your perspective matters here), it is worth taking a look at how their actions correlate with their words. News flash: the concordance is pretty itty-bitty.

The curtain call caucus might lay a lot of harsh words on the president, but where the support of a senator really matters—the yea and nay of legislation—they’re all pretty rock solid Trump guys. FiveThirtyEight keeps a running tally of support of the administration’s legislative agenda in both chambers of Congress, and by that measure Flake, McCain and Corker are high-level yes men. Flake—the hero du jour of the anti-Trump GOP wing—votes with the administration 90 percent of the time. Corker clocks in with 86 percent support and McCain is at 84 percent. The words may be all maverick-y, but those voting records look pretty party line.

The scruples trio, for example, have all expressed disappointment in one way or another with the competence—specifically, the lack thereof—of the Trump administration. Yet they helped put it in place. Confirm someone as a department head who reveals at her hearing she’s innocent of even the basic details of her agency’s policy portfolio? How about someone who doesn’t seem to know exactly what his agency does? Or someone who knows the legal mandate of his agency and has vowed to torpedo it from within? The three principled amigos all voted for Betsy DeVos (Education) and Rick Perry (Energy), Flake and Corker both voted for Tom Pruitt (EPA), and McCain probably would have joined them if he’d cast a vote that dy. Excuse me if I take these guys’ anguished hand-wringing over the government’s ineptitude with a healthy pinch of salt.

And where these guys have broken with the Trump administration, it’s hard to see any high falutin’ principle-over-politics motivation. Flake and Corker bucked the Trump administration to vote against disaster relief for Puerto Rico, a piece of legislation that passed with a large bipartisan majorities. They also voted against raising the debt limit and extending relief for Hurricane Harvey, which was supported not just by the White House but pretty much all the grownups on both sides of the aisle.

McCain actually did cast one big vote that bucked the president and his party—he voted against the hot mess of the Obamacare repeal legislation. And, fair enough, that really was a big stand and a big deal. The GOP and Trump really felt that, and even if the bill in question was truly awful (it was) it can’t have been easy to provide the smack down ballot on something his party so desperately wanted.  The vast majority of the time, though, McCain’s votes reliably support the desires of the Republican Party and the Trump administration.

I guess the big test of whether the rhetoric on scruples will actually align with action is on the upcoming tax bill. No one is exactly sure of the specifics of this proposal or its likely consequences—Republican leadership and the Trump White House really don’t want anyone to know, they just want it enacted toot suite because they really need a win. It’s pretty certain it’ll favor the well off and liberally splash red ink onto the government’s ledgers, but outside of that who knows.

It’ll be interesting to see if Flake and Corker’s concerns about government debt translate into no votes. Will they stick to the core anti-deficit values they’ve been fervently espousing, or say pooh to principle and vote yea because the president and, especially, the Republican Party have to get a W? And what about McCain, is he actually willing to cock a snoot on a second major legislative priority?

Nothing is certain, of course, but political scientists know that the best predictor of future legislative behavior is past legislative behavior. On that basis, the odds are 10 to 15 percent that the say-do ratio for these three will balance out. The odds are way higher—85 to 90 percent history is any guide—they’ll say no and press yes. Their words have been harsh, even scornful. Polling their votes, though, reveals three pretty dutiful Republican loyalists. And actions should speak louder than words.