Politics tamfitronics
What are Vice Presidential debates for? In the frenzy of deciding what to think after a debate that basic question often gets lost. Debates generate a distinct news cycle as mainstream media plan for, cover, and finally discuss and fact-check the event. Researchers are divided in how to interpret these cycles. One side says: this is all pseudo-events, generated for the media, by the media. Manufactured sites, imagined to be authentic. The other side argues, no, these debates are media events that bring societies together in a common viewing experience, offering a chance to discuss core values and particular policies, ultimately generating social cohesion.
The J.D. Vance-Tim Walz VP debate was both. A maddening amount of punditry combined with moments when we had chances to consider what topics, delivered by whom, should define who we are as a nation. And as Americans watched on, the debate gave a glimpse into how much American politics relies on the power of performance to shape the way we move forward as a democracy.
There was more real policy talk in this debate than in the Harris-Trump face-off, with more in-depth discussions, but the cracks of the Democrat’s VP selection were on full display. The Democrats chose Walz to be likeable and charming, to be the coach-teacher-veteran combo we would like to enjoy as our next-door neighbor or even sip a beer with, even if his stories become annoying. They picked him due to his every day, bubbly, friendly-uncle-like political character that looked particularly relatable in short-video format.
Walz was not chosen for his command of policy or professional debating skills. If you want a perfect debater, you pick Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro. Democrats consciously made the choice that’s not what they prefer. The results were visible, if unsurprising.
Read More: Vance Outperformed Walz in a Debate Unlikely to Shift the Race
Vance, on the other hand, managed to emerge from “weird” to “slick,” largely erasing Walz’s innovative vocabulary (again, unsurprising from an experienced debater of Yale Law School, who was eager to move on from the “childless cat ladies” remark that has followed him throughout the last few weeks). He also effectively framed Harris as the current VP, not an agent of change. Depending on your political preferences you might perceive Vance either as a capable, sociopathic liar (for Democrats) or a ready-to-be President Republican for a post-Trump era (for Republicans).
Of course, the most important would be to know what those in the center think. Will they recall Vance’s smooth delivery, consciously “friendly” pink tie, or his inability to answer who won the 2020 elections? Will they remember Walz’s nervous, struggling, why-I-am-even-here moments or his strongest performance on January 6th? Or that, except for Iran’s missile attack on Israel, there were no global political topics, not one question about Ukraine? It remains unlikely that this debate will move the needle for the last stretch of this election.
So, then, what was this debate for? Debates model behavior and serve as reminders that both personality and policy matter. They show that politics is, oftentimes than not, theater—and that serves its own vital purpose. As we all increasingly struggle with polarization (just think of all the news articles before Thanksgiving on how to handle your unhinged relative), debates offer a chance to remember: democracy thrives on well-designed performances that we collectively reflect on and sometimes even model, especially when diverse communities gather on fragmented media platforms.
That’s why perhaps the most fascinating part of the one and only VP debate was that all-in-all it was, in fact, civil. Civility is often considered old-fashioned or limiting, but it shone bright yesterday. There were acknowledged common grounds, respectful arguments, and even some level of empathy for mutual failures.
As we quickly move on to the next news cycles, the VP debate showed that it is indeed possible to talk to each other even if we severely disagree. And whether we are “slick,” “weird,” or “plainspoken,” we still shake hands at the end. It should not be that hard.
