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The 2024 U.S. Presidential Race: A Cheat Sheet

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › ideas › archive › 2023 › 08 › tracking-democrat-republican-presidential-candidates-2024-election › 673118

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No one alive has seen a race like the 2024 presidential election. For months, if not years, many people have expected a reprise of the 2020 election, a matchup between the sitting president and a former president.

But that hasn’t prevented a crowded primary. On the GOP side, more than a dozen candidates are ostensibly vying for the nomination. Donald Trump’s lead appears prohibitive, but then again, no candidate has ever won his party’s nomination while facing four (so far) separate felony indictments. (Then again, no one has ever lost his party’s nomination while facing four separate felony indictments either.) Ron DeSantis has not budged from his position as the leading challenger to Trump, but his support has weakened, encouraging a large field of Republicans who are hoping for a lucky break, a Trump collapse, a VP nomination, or maybe just some fun travel and a cable-news contract down the road.

[David A. Graham: The first debate is Ramaswamy and the rest]

On the other side, Democratic hesitations about a second Biden term have either receded or dissolved into resignation that he’s running. But his age and the general lukewarm feeling among some voters has ensured that a decent-size shadow field still exists, just waiting in case Biden bows out for some reason. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is also running, ostensibly as a Democrat, but while employing Republican consultants and espousing fairly right-wing views. Even so, he has hit double digits in some polls.

Behind all this, the possibility of a serious third-party bid, led by either the group No Labels or some other candidate, continues to linger. It adds up to a race that is simple on the surface but strangely confusing just below it. This guide to the candidates—who’s in, who’s out, and who’s somewhere in between—serves as a road map to navigate that. It will be updated as the campaign develops, so check in regularly.

REPUBLICANS (Joe Raedle / Getty) Donald Trump

Who is he?
You know him and you love him. Or hate him. Probably not much in between.

Is he running?
Yes. Trump announced his bid to return to the White House at Mar-a-Lago in November 2022.

Why does he want to run?
Revenge, boredom, rivalry, fear of prosecution, long-standing psychological hang-ups.

[Read: Trump begins the ‘retribution’ tour]

Who wants him to run?
A big tranche of the GOP is still all in on Trump, but it’s a little hard to tell how big. Polling shows that his support among Republicans is all over the place, but he’s clearly not a prohibitive front-runner.

Can he win the nomination?
Yes, but past results are no guarantee of future success.

What else do we know?
More than we could possibly want to.

(Joe Raedle / Getty) Ron DeSantis

Who is he?
The second-term governor of Florida, DeSantis was previously a U.S. representative.

Is he running?
Yes. He announced his run in a trainwreck of an appearance with Elon Musk on Twitter Spaces on May 24.

Why does he want to run?
DeSantis offers the prospect of a synthesis of Trump-style culture war and bullying and the conservative politics of the early-2010s Republican Party.

Who wants him to run?
From the advent of his campaign, DeSantis presented the prospect of a candidate with Trump’s policies but no Trump. But his fading polling suggests that not many Republicans are interested.

[From the March 2023 issue: How did America’s weirdest, most freedom-obsessed state fall for an authoritarian governor?]

Can he win the nomination?
He doesn’t look like the Trump-toppler today that he did several months ago, but it’s possible.

(Roy Rochlin / Getty) Nikki Haley

Who is she?
Haley, the daughter of immigrants, was governor of South Carolina and then ambassador to the United Nations under Trump.

Is she running?
Yes. She announced her campaign on February 14, saying, “Time for a new generation.”

Why does she want to run?
Haley has tried to steer a path that distances herself from Trump—pointing out his unpopularity—without openly attacking him. She may also be the leading foreign-policy hawk in the field.

[Sarah Isgur: What Nikki Haley can learn from Carly Fiorina]

Who wants her to run?
Haley has lagged behind the first tier of candidates, but her strong performance in the first debate could help her.

Can she win the nomination?
Dubious.

(Dylan Hollingsworth / Bloomberg / Getty) Vivek Ramaswamy

Who is he?
A 38-year-old biotech millionaire with a sparkling résumé (Harvard, then Yale Law, where he became friends with Senator J. D. Vance), Ramaswamy has recently become prominent as a crusader against “wokeism” and environmental, social, and governance (ESG) investing.

Is he running?
Yes. He announced his campaign on February 21.

Why does he want to run?
“We’re in the middle of a national identity crisis,” Ramaswamy said in a somewhat-hectoring launch video. “Faith, patriotism, and hard work have disappeared, only to be replaced by new secular religions like COVIDism, climatism, and gender ideology.”

Who wants him to run?
Ramaswamy has come from nearly nowhere to poll surprisingly well—in national polls, he’s currently third (if distantly so) behind Trump and DeSantis, and he dominated the first debate.

Can he win the nomination?
Probably not. Ramaswamy no longer seems like a mere curiosity, but his slick shtick and questionable pronouncements will remain a drag on him.

(Alex Wong / Getty) Asa Hutchinson

Who is he?
Hutchinson, the formerly longtime member of Congress, just finished a stint as governor of Arkansas.

Is he running?
Yes. Hutchinson announced on April 2 that he is running. It would have been funnier to announce a day earlier, though.

Why does he want to run?
At one time, Hutchinson was a right-wing Republican—he was one of the managers of Bill Clinton’s impeachment—but as the party has changed, he finds himself closer to the center. He’s been very critical of Trump, saying that Trump disqualified himself with his attempts to steal the 2020 election. Hutchinson is also unique in the field for having called on Trump to drop out over his indictment in New York.

Who wants him to run?
Old-school, very conservative Republicans who also detest Trump.

Can he win the nomination?
Unlikely.

(David Becker / The Washington Post / Getty) Tim Scott

Who is he?
A South Carolinian, Scott is the only Black Republican senator.

Is he running?
Yes. He announced his campaign in North Charleston, South Carolina, on May 22.

Why does he want to run?
Unlike some of the others on this list, Scott doesn’t telegraph his ambition quite so plainly, but he’s built a record as a solid Republican. He was aligned with Trump, but never sycophantically attached.

Who wants him to run?
Scott’s Senate colleagues adore him. John Thune of South Dakota, the Senate minority whip, is his first highish-profile endorsement. As DeSantis stumbles, he’s gotten some attention as a possible likable Trump alternative.

Can he win the nomination?
Scott is solidly in the second tier; he’s perpetually said to be on the verge of breaking out but never quite there.

(Megan Varner / Getty) Mike Pence

Who is he?
The former vice president, he also served as the governor of Indiana and a U.S. representative.

Is he running?
Yes. He formally launched his campaign on June 7 with a video and an event in Iowa.

Why does he want to run?
Pence has long harbored White House dreams, and he has a strong conservative-Christian political agenda. His launch video is heavy on clichés and light on specifics beyond promising a kinder face for the Trump agenda.

Who wants him to run?
Conservative Christians, rabbit lovers, but not very many people overall.

[Read: Nobody likes Mike Pence]

Can he win the nomination?
It’s hard to see it happening.

(Ida Mae Astute / Getty) Chris Christie

Who is he?
What a journey this guy has had, from U.S. attorney to respected governor of New Jersey to traffic-jam laughingstock to Trump sidekick to Trump critic. Whew.

Is he running?
Yes. He announced his campaign on June 6 in New Hampshire.

Why does he want to run?
Anyone who runs for president once and loses wants to run again—especially if he thinks the guy who beat him is an idiot, as Christie clearly thinks about Trump. Moreover, he seems agitated to see other Republicans trying to run without criticizing Trump.

Who wants him to run?
Trump-skeptical donors, liberal pundits.

Can he win the nomination?
Highly doubtful.

(Todd Williamson / Getty) Doug Burgum

Who is he?
Do you even pay attention to politics? Nah, just kidding. A self-made software billionaire, Burgum’s serving his second term as the governor of North Dakota.

Is he running?
Apparently! He formally
launched his campaign on June 7 in Fargo.

Why does he want to run?
It’s tough to tell. His campaign-announcement video focuses so much on North Dakota that it seems more like a reelection push. He told a state newspaper that he thinks the “silent majority” of Americans wants candidates who aren’t on the extremes. (A wealthy outsider targeting the silent majority? Where have we heard that before?) He also really wants more domestic oil production.

Who wants him to run?
Lots of people expected a governor from the Dakotas to be a candidate in 2024, but they were looking at Kristi Noem of South Dakota. Burgum is very popular at home—he won more than three-quarters of the vote in 2020—but that still amounts to fewer people than the population of Toledo, Ohio.

Can he win the nomination?
“There’s a value to being underestimated all the time,” he has said. “That’s a competitive advantage.” But it’s even better to have a chance, which he doesn’t.

What else do we know?
He’s giving people $20 gift cards in return for donating to his campaign.

(Scott Olson / Getty) Will Hurd

Who is he?
A former CIA officer, Hurd served three terms in the House representing a San Antonio–area district.

Is he running?
Yes. Hurd announced his campaign on June 22.

Why does he want to run?
Hurd says he has “commonsense” ideas and he is “pissed” that elected officials are dividing Americans. He’s also been an outspoken Trump critic.

Who wants him to run?
As a moderate, youngish Black Republican and someone who cares about defense, he is the sort of candidate whom the party establishment seemed to desire after the now-discarded 2012 GOP autopsy.

Can he win the nomination?
No.

(Mandel Ngan / Getty) Francis Suarez

Who is he?
Suarez is the popular second-term mayor of Miami and the president of the U.S. Conference of Mayors.

Is he running?
Yes. He kicked off his campaign on June 15.

Why does he want to run?
Suarez touts his youth—he’s 45—and said in October 2022, “I’m someone who believes in a positive aspirational message. I’m someone who has a track record of success and a formula for success.” He’s also someone who voted against the Republican Ron DeSantis in the 2018 governor’s race and did not vote for Trump in 2020.

Who wants him to run?
Is there really room for another moderate-ish Republican in the race? Suarez reports that Trump said he was the “hottest politician in America after him,” but the former president is himself running, and with DeSantis a presumptive candidate, Suarez is an underdog in his home state.

Can he win the nomination?
Suarez’s only real hope was making the first debate and then having a great night. But he didn’t make the first debate.

(Drew Angerer / Getty) Larry Hogan

Who is he?
Hogan left office this year after serving two terms as governor of Maryland.

Is he running?
No. Hogan ruled himself out on March 5, saying he was worried that too large a field would help Trump win the nomination once more, but he is rumored as a potential No Labels candidate.

Why did he want to run?
Hogan argued that his experience of governing a very blue state as a Republican is a model: “We’ve been really successful outside of Washington, where everything appears to be broken and nothing but divisiveness and dysfunction.” He’s also a vocal critic of Trump.

Who wanted him to run?
Moderate, business-friendly “Never Trump” Republicans love Hogan.

Could he have won the nomination?
No.

(John Locher / AP) Chris Sununu

Who is he?
The governor of New Hampshire, he’s the little brother of former Senator John E. Sununu and the son of former White House Chief of Staff John H. Sununu.

Is he running?
No. On June 5, after weighing a campaign, he announced he would not run. Warning about the dangers of a Trump reprise, he said, “Every candidate needs to understand the responsibility of getting out and getting out quickly if it’s not working.” Points for taking his own advice!

Why did he want to run?
Sununu seems disgusted by a lot of Washington politics and saw his success in New Hampshire, a purple-blue state, as a model for small-government conservatism. He is also a prominent Trump critic.

Who wanted him to run?
Trump-skeptical Republicans, old-school conservatives.

Could he have won the nomination?
No.

(Scott Olson / Getty) Mike Pompeo

Who is he?
Pompeo, a former member of Congress, led the CIA and was secretary of state under Trump.

Is he running?
No. On April 14, Pompeo announced he wasn’t running. “This is not that time or that moment for me to seek elected office again,” he said.

Why did he want to run?
Pompeo has always been ambitious, and he seems to think he can combine MAGA proximity with a hawkish foreign-policy approach.

Who wanted him to run?
That’s not entirely clear.

Could he have won the nomination?
Maybe, but probably not.

(Misha Friedman / Getty) Glenn Youngkin

Who is he?
Youngkin, the former CEO of the private-equity Carlyle Group, was elected governor of Virginia in 2021.

Is he running?
Probably not. He said on May 1 that he wasn’t running “this year.” But he seems to be rethinking that as Ron DeSantis’s campaign sputters.

Why does he want to run?
Youngkin is a bit of a cipher; he ran largely on education issues, and has sought to tighten abortion laws in Virginia, so far to no avail.

Who wants him to run?
Rupert Murdoch, reportedly.

Can he win the nomination?
Certainly not if he isn’t running.

(Sam Wolfe / Bloomberg / Getty) Mike Rogers

Who is he?
Rogers is a congressman from Alabam—wait, no, sorry, that’s the other Representative Mike Rogers. This one is from Michigan and retired in 2015. He was previously an FBI agent and was head of the Intelligence Committee while on Capitol Hill.

Is he running?
He is thinking about it and has formed a group with the suitably vague name “Lead America,” but he’s been quiet for long enough that we can assume no, at least for practical purposes.

Why does he want to run?
He laid out some unassailably broad ideas for a campaign in an interview with Fox News, including a focus on innovation and civic education, but it’s hard to tell what exactly the goal is here. “This is not a vanity project for me,” he added, which, okay, sure.

Who wants him to run?
“I think the Trump, Trump-lite lane is pretty crowded,” he told Fox. “The lane that is not talking about Trump, that is talking about solutions and the way forward and what the real challenges we face—I just don’t find a lot of people in that lane.” Which, again, okay?

Can he win the nomination?
Nope.

(Todd Williamson / Getty) Larry Elder

Who is he?
A longtime conservative radio host and columnist, he ran as a Republican in the unsuccessful 2021 attempt to recall California Governor Gavin Newsom.

Is he running?
Allegedly, yes. He announced his campaign on Tucker Carlson’s Fox News show on April 20. He’s barely been heard from since.

Why does he want to run?
Glad you asked! “America is in decline, but this decline is not inevitable,” he tweeted. “We can enter a new American Golden Age, but we must choose a leader who can bring us there. That’s why I’m running for President.” We don’t have any idea what that means either.

Who wants him to run?
Impossible to say at this stage, but deep-blue California is a tough launching pad for any conservative, especially an unseasoned candidate. This recall campaign also dredged up various unflattering information about his past.

Can he win the nomination?
Having missed out on the first debate, any hope Elder had is gone.

(Todd Williamson / Getty) Rick Perry

Who is he?
Perry was a three-term governor of Texas before serving as energy secretary under Donald Trump. He’s also run for president three times: in 2012, 2016, and … I forget the third one. Oops.

Is he running?
Oh, right! The third one is 2024, maybe. He told CNN in May that he’s considering a run. Nothing’s been heard since.

Why does he want to run?
He didn’t say, but he’s struggled to articulate much of a compelling case to Republican voters beyond the fact that he’s from Texas, he looks good in a suit, and he wants to be president, gosh darn it.

Who wants him to run?
Probably no one. As Mike Pompeo already discovered, there’s not much of a market for a run-of-the-mill former Trump Cabinet member in the primary—especially one who had such a forgettable turn as secretary, mostly remembered for being dragged peripherally into both the first Trump impeachment and election subversion.

Can he win the nomination?
The third time would not be a charm.

(Joe Raedle / Getty) Rick Scott

Who is he?
Before his current gig as a U.S. senator from Florida, Scott was governor and chief executive of a health-care company that committed massive Medicare fraud.

Is he running?
The New York Times says he’s considering it, though an aide said Scott is running for reelection to the Senate. He’d be the fourth Floridian in the race.

Why does he want to run?
A Scott campaign would raise a fascinating question: What if you took Trump’s pose and ideology, but removed all the charisma and, instead of promising to protect popular entitlement programs, aimed to demolish them?

Who wants him to run?
Not Mitch McConnell.

Can he win the nomination?
lol

DEMOCRATS (Joshua Roberts / Getty) Joe Biden


Who is he?
After decades of trying, Biden is the president of the United States.

Is he running?
Yes. Biden formally announced his run on April 25.

Why does he want to run?
Biden’s slogan is apparently “Let’s finish the job.” He centered his launch video on the theme of freedom, but underlying all of this is his apparent belief that he may be the only person who can defeat Donald Trump in a head-to-head matchup.

[Read: The case for a primary challenge to Joe Biden]

Who wants him to run?
There’s the catch. Some prominent Democrats support his bid for a second term, but voters have consistently told pollsters that they don’t want him to run again.

Can he win the nomination?
Barring unforeseen catastrophe, yes. No incumbent president has lost the nomination in the modern era, and Biden has pushed through changes to the Democratic-primary process that make him an even more prohibitive favorite.

What else do we know?
Biden is already the oldest person to be elected president and to serve as president, so a second term would set more records.

(Bill Clark / Getty) Dean Phillips


Who is he?
Phillips, a mildly unorthodox and interesting figure, is a Minnesota moderate serving his third term in the House.

Is he running?
Probably not. In an August 21 interview, he said he was unlikely to run, but would encourage other Democrats to do so. He had said in July that he was considering it.

Why does he want to run?
Phillips, who at 54 passes for young in politics, has been publicly critical of superannuated Democrats sticking around too long, and he says Biden is too old to run again.

Who wants him to run?
Although it’s true that many Democrats think Biden is too old, that doesn’t mean they’re willing to do anything about it—or that Phillips is the man they want to replace him. Although Phillips claims he has “been overwhelmed with outreach and encouragement,” this looks more like a messaging move than a serious sprint at the moment.

Can he win the nomination?
Not in 2024.

What else do we know?
His grandmother was “Dear Abby.”

(Chip Somodevilla / Getty) Kamala Harris


Who is she?
Harris is the vice president of the United States.

Is she running?
No, but if Biden were to bow out, she’d be the immediate favorite.

Why does she want to run?
One problem with her 2020 presidential campaign was the lack of a clear answer to this question. Perhaps running on the Biden-Harris legacy would help fill in the blank.

Who wants her to run?
Some Democrats are excited about the prospect of nominating a woman of color, but generally Harris’s struggles as a candidate and in defining a role for herself (in the admittedly impossible position of VP) have resulted in nervousness about her as a standard-bearer.

Can she win the nomination?
Not right now.

(Matthew Cavanaugh / Getty) Pete Buttigieg


Who is he?
Mayor Pete is Secretary Pete now, overseeing the Department of Transportation.

Is he running?
No, but he would also be a likely candidate if Biden stepped away.

Why does he want to run?
Just as he was four years ago, Buttigieg is a young, ambitious politician with a moderate, technocratic vision of government.

Who wants him to run?
Buttigieg’s fans are passionate, and Biden showed that moderates remain a force in the party.

Can he win the nomination?
Not at this moment.

(Scott Olson / Getty) Bernie Sanders


Who is he?
The senator from Vermont is changeless, ageless, ever the same.

Is he running?
No, but if Biden dropped out, it’s hard to believe he wouldn’t seriously consider another go. A top adviser even says so.

Why does he want to run?
Sanders still wants to tax billionaires, level the economic playing field, and push a left-wing platform.

Who wants him to run?
Sanders continues to have the strong support of a large portion of the Democratic electorate, especially younger voters.

Can he win the nomination?
Two consecutive tries have shown that he’s formidable, but can’t close. Maybe the third time’s the charm?

(Chip Somodevilla / Getty) Gretchen Whitmer


Who is she?
Whitmer cruised to a second term as governor of Michigan in 2022.

Is she running?
No.

Why would she want to run?
It’s a little early to know, but her reelection campaign focused on abortion rights.

Who wants her to run?
Whitmer would check a lot of boxes for Democrats. She’s a fresh face, she’s a woman, and she’s proved she can win in the upper Midwest against a MAGA candidate.

Can she win the nomination?
Not if she isn’t running.

(Lucas Jackson / Reuters) Marianne Williamson


Who is she?
If you don’t know Williamson from her popular writing on spirituality, then you surely remember her somewhat woo-woo Democratic bid in 2020.

Is she running?
Yes. Williamson announced her campaign on March 4 in D.C.

Why does she want to run?
“It is our job to create a vision of justice and love that is so powerful that it will override the forces of hatred and injustice and fear,” she said at her campaign launch. She has also said that she wants to give voters a choice. “The question I ask myself is not ‘What is my path to victory?’ My question is ‘What is my path to radical truth-telling?’ There are some things that need to be said in this country.”

Who wants her to run?
Williamson has her fans, but she doesn’t have a clear political constituency. Also, her campaign is perpetually falling part.

Can she win the nomination?
Nah.

(Brian Cassella / Chicago Tribune / Getty) J. B. Pritzker


Who is he?
The governor of Illinois is both a scion of a wealthy family and a “nomadic warrior.”

Is he running?
No.

Why does he want to run?
After years of unfulfilled interest in elected office, Pritzker has established himself as a muscular proponent of progressivism in a Democratic stronghold.

Who wants him to run?
Improbably for a billionaire, Pritzker has become a darling of the Sanders-style left, as well as a memelord.

Can he win the nomination?
Not now.

(Brian Cassella / Chicago Tribune / Getty) Robert F. Kennedy Jr.


Who is he?
The son of a presidential candidate, the nephew of another, and the nephew of a president, Kennedy is a longtime environmental activist and also a chronic crank.

Is he running?
Yes. He announced his run on April 19.

Why does he want to run?
Running for president is a family tradition—hell, he wouldn’t even be the first Kennedy to primary a sitting Democrat. He’s running a campaign arranged around his esoteric combination of left-wing interests (the environment, drug prices) and right-wing causes (vaccine skepticism, anger about social-media “deplatforming”), but tending toward extremely dark places.

Who wants him to run?
Despite his bizarre beliefs, he’s polling in double digits against Biden—though as he has gotten deeper into anti-Semitism and conspiracies, Semafor has deemed his boomlet over.

Can he win the nomination?
Not the Democratic one.


THIRD-PARTY AND INDEPENDENT (Tom Williams / Getty) Joe Manchin


Who is he?
A Democratic U.S. senator and former governor of West Virginia, he was the pivotal centrist vote for the first two years of Joe Biden’s term. I’ve described him as “a middle-of-the-road guy with good electoral instincts, decent intentions, and bad ideas.”

Is he running?
It’s very hard to tell how serious he is. He has visited Iowa, and is being courted by No Labels, the nonpartisan centrist organization, to carry its banner. He’s shown no signs of running, and would stand no chance, in the Democratic primary.

Why does he want to run?
Manchin would arguably have less power as a third-party president than he does as a crucial swing senator, but he faces perhaps the hardest reelection campaign of his life in 2024, as the last Democrat standing in a now solidly Republican state. He also periodically seems personally piqued at Biden and the Democrats over slights perceived or real.

Who wants him to run?
No Labels would love to have someone like him, a high-profile figure who’s willing to buck his party and has policies that would appeal to voters from either party. It’s hard to imagine he’d have much of an organic base of support, but Democrats are terrified he’d siphon off enough votes to hand Trump or another Republican the win in a three-way race.

Can he win?
“Make no mistake, I will win any race I enter,” he said in April. If that is true, do not expect to see him in the presidential race.

(Frederick M. Brown / Getty) Cornel West


Who is he?
West is a philosopher, a theologian, a professor, a preacher, a gadfly, a progressive activist, an actor, a spoken-word recording-artist, an author … and we’re probably missing a few.

Is he running?
Yes. He announced his campaign on the People’s Party ticket on June 5.

Why does he want to run?
In these bleak times, I have decided to run for truth and justice, which takes the form of running for president of the United States,” he said in his announcement video. West is a fierce leftist who has described Trump as a “neo-fascist” and Biden as a “milquetoast neoliberal.”

Who wants him to run?
West was a high-profile backer of Bernie Sanders, and it’s easy to imagine him winning over some of Sanders’s fervent fans. The People’s Party is relatively new and unproven, and doesn’t have much of a base of its own.

Can he win?
Let’s hear from Brother West: “Do we have what it takes? We shall see,” he said. “But some of us are going to go down fighting, go down swinging, with style and a smile.” Sounds like a no, but it should be a lively, entertaining campaign.

Readers Weigh In on ‘Rich Men North of Richmond’

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › newsletters › archive › 2023 › 08 › readers-weigh-in-on-rich-men-north-of-richmond › 675084

Welcome to Up for Debate. Each week, Conor Friedersdorf rounds up timely conversations and solicits reader responses to one thought-provoking question. Later, he publishes some thoughtful replies. Sign up for the newsletter here.

Last week I asked readers to react to the hit song “Rich Men North of Richmond” by Oliver Anthony.

Replies have been edited for length and clarity.

Brian has been fascinated by the music of Appalachia (where Anthony’s grandfather was born and raised) ever since stumbling upon the YouTube channel GemsOnVHS. He argues that divorcing a song from its ethnocultural background is impossible:

The (primarily) Scots-Irish immigrants who populated Greater Appalachia in the 18th century fled a series of disasters caused in no small part by an overreaching, abusive government in the British Isles. The rural, self-sufficient lifestyle many Appalachians maintain isn’t a red hat; it is an effort to distance themselves from the long reach of a federal government that Appalachians have been given every reason to distrust. During the 19th century, Appalachians were split in their allegiances to “North” or “South” because they weren’t fighting the same battle as the Yankees or the Deep Southerners. Appalachians resisted whoever they thought would more meaningfully limit their freedom.

While “Rich Men North of Richmond” is undoubtedly political, and admittedly leans a little to the right, it never registered as overwhelmingly partisan to me. Republicans and Democrats are both to blame for wealth inequality and the inefficiency (or abuses) of some federal programs and policies. There’s no such thing as a one size fits all political classification for the many peoples of Appalachia, and I bet Oliver Anthony isn’t particularly pleased that so many people are trying to speak for him. Last I checked, $300 ties come in both red and blue. Whether it be Puritan proselytizing, a domineering Deep Southern aristocracy, or our modern-day equivalents, Appalachians will be who they want to be, live how they want to live, and fight whoever tries to force them in a different direction. Instead of attempting to claim Anthony’s allegiance, people should quiet down and listen to the words he sings. Millions seem to think they have value.

Abby lives near where the singer performed for the first time since becoming famous:

My family lives less than a mile from Morris Farm Market in Currituck County, North Carolina, and my son was fortunate to meet Oliver Anthony and, more important, experience the concert vibe of the attendees. He’s 23 and is what I’d call conservative-curious. He’s grown up with my center-left ideology and finds that my thinking doesn’t work in all things.

His main impression of the event is that nearly all the attendees related personally with the message but were not overtly advertising any political bias. The crowd was a mix of tourists and locals, which probably diluted our local 85-percent-Republican voting block. His overwhelming impression was that Anthony captured that magic that happens at some shows, where the people and the artist are singing with one voice.

He and I agree that combative left-versus-right battles mainly take place on social-media platforms. Influencers are working overtime to co-opt this song’s popularity to support their own agendas. This does a disservice to Oliver Anthony and his music fans alike by drawing a right/left line in the sand over lyrics that have broad meaning to people.

M.S. has a suggestion for viewing the song through the experience of other people:

Go on YouTube. Search Rich Men North of Richmond reaction videos and tell me this is a GOP song or a white-tropes song. Every person that watches this song LOVES it and relates to it.

At the reader’s suggestion, I watched reaction videos, starting with the first one in my Google search results, and although it isn’t true that everyone loves and relates to the song, the exercise did give useful insight into how many kinds of people are connecting with the song. (Here’s a compilation of positive reactions, and one from a self-described liberal who doesn’t get why so many people regard the song as right-coded. I do see why, but it’s noteworthy that some don’t.)

Jaleelah believes that the song’s success owes a lot to its politics, which she finds flawed:

I like American folk music so much that I listen to it on a daily basis. The respect I have for established (but less popular) folk singers makes me suspicious that Anthony’s rise to popularity can be attributed to his talent or mastery of the genre. Why are Anaïs Mitchell and Bonny Light Horseman not topping the charts? Why have Joanna Newsom’s authentic voice and lyrics (which are more insightful and well constructed than Anthony’s) never propelled her to widespread success? Plenty of folk singers have been making incredible music in the past five and 10 years. Why is Anthony the first to go viral?

“Rich Men North of Richmond” has some aesthetic resonance. Anthony has a unique, appealing voice—it is hollow and grainy; its timbre is hard to train. He has trouble hitting some notes, but that actually contributes to the authentic vibe of the song. The melody is not complicated, but it is compelling. Anthony is a much more talented musician than Jason Aldean. Still, it’s not an amazing song, and political appeal probably plays a bigger role in its success than quality. I think people who hate the government heard that this song gives voice to their grievances and started streaming it to feel validated. To be clear, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with streaming a song because it validates your beliefs. Nor do I think that practice is exclusive to conservatives.

But the political message of the song seems confused. Anthony laments that politicians don’t care about miners—but the average wage for miners and loggers is $38.09 an hour, higher than the average across all private occupations. He laments “bullshit pay,” then complains that the government wants to have “total control.” Does he want the government to legislate higher wages or not? Unions are absent from his song. And many of the rich men keeping wages down (a choice made by corporations, not the government) live south of Richmond.

Sean argues that music criticism is politicized for a reason:

I’m a professor of music and a musician. My doctorate is in classical composition, my bachelor’s degree is in jazz performance, and I grew up going to hardcore/punk/metal shows. A major reason behind the political bent of most of the coverage lies in a major problem within modern music criticism: Most music critics aren’t actually experts in the field. Music criticism, even in well-respected publications, is often written by pop-culture critics as opposed to music-specific critics. This means the authors of most modern music criticism don’t have the knowledge base that is necessary to discuss ... well, music.

That’s why so much music criticism, even criticism of non-divisive artists, rests on the narrative arcs of musicians and the place an artist holds within the pop-culture landscape. It’s common to read reviews that only pay lip service to actual musical evaluation, and instead focus on how a song or album fits within the pop-culture climate or where the artist is at in their career. Even within music-focused criticism, a lack of specialization is hurting the effectiveness of the field. One person can rarely speak equally well to the merits of country, hip-hop, rock, pop, classical, jazz, or all the other Western genres, let alone the vast number of folk and classical musics of the entire world.

But that is what is expected of modern music critics. So even people with a deep background in music are almost guaranteed to be writing from a point of ignorance on a regular basis.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with writing about the background of an artist, or how a piece of art fits in our world. The problem is that by focusing criticism through the lens of “pop culture,” meaningful and insightful aesthetic judgment is being neglected. I think that is one of the primary driving factors behind the coverage of “Rich Men North of Richmond.” If a critic can’t effectively criticize the music itself, then their focus must turn elsewhere. In this case, that has meant writing about the political standing of the art and artist.

Denise is reminded of other protest songs:

Woody Guthrie’s “I Ain’t Got No Home” shows us that Anthony isn’t living in such a new world:

   I mined in your mines and I gathered in your corn

   I been working, mister, since the day I was born

   Now I worry all the time like I never did before

   ’Cause I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

   Now as I look around, it’s mighty plain to see

   This world is such a great and a funny place to be

   Oh the gamblin’ man is rich an’ the workin’ man is poor

   And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

No political party can lay claim to the emotions of people who feel that they don’t have a “home” in this country. Both parties fail in meeting the wants and needs of the majority. I’m glad we sometimes luck into hearing talented, independent singers—voices we can appreciate just for their sound and how they express their sentiment, i.e., for artistry. And I'm glad for them that they get discovered. But I think that Woody would tell Oliver that singing about your life isn’t enough and that everyday life is unavoidably political: Yeah, you’ve got a great voice, man, but now suck it up, join a union, and join the chorus. We’ve got work to do. And, oh yeah, please keep on singing. I’d love to see a follow-up story several months from now, to learn how Anthony has dealt with being discovered and whether he feels co-opted.

Andrew dislikes the song’s sociopolitical message:

Oliver Anthony’s ode to victimhood resonates in the current climate, where voices are looking to capitalize on cynicism and hollow rage while listeners are embracing media that discourages personal accountability and nostalgically pines for an era that never existed.

A rejection of the culture of victimhood should be a bipartisan effort. My father, a die-hard Reagan Republican, moved from West Virginia to Florida to take advantage of its opportunities. My wife, solidly liberal, learned a second language, fled the Venezuelan dictatorship, navigated the inhumane labyrinth that is the U.S. immigration system, and found work in a new country. Are we supposed to believe that the “rich men north of Richmond” are preventing rural Americans from driving to a new city 30 minutes away and finding work in the tightest labor market in recent history? There are people immigrating to this country by traversing the Panamanian rainforest for the chance to deliver food, but we’re supposed to feel bad for the guy who refuses to take an air-conditioned bus to the next town over to get a job as a plumber? The American mythos has never been one of victimhood. It’s about taking risks, venturing into the unknown, and building a new life. That so many of us would embrace drinking yourself to death and blaming it on the faceless powers that be is a worrying sign of cultural rot.

Perry has advice for those who relate to the lyrics of the song:

I can understand why a lot of Americans feel this way. My response: There will always be folks with more money. There will always be folks who think they are smarter and better than you. What does that really matter to you? Excel in spite of them. Do what it takes to get where you want to go. STOP WHINING and get to work. Rely on God, family, and friends! YOU ARE WORTH AS MUCH AS ANY OF THEM. I was the 5-foot-8 300-pound father with three boys. I woke up one morning and decided I wanted to see them all married and play with my grandchildren, so I lost 160 pounds. The Rolling Stones said it best: “You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometime you’ll find you get what you need!”

Sue suggests that following such advice can pay dividends:

Why are jobs that pay good wages and that teach critical skills going unfilled across our country? Is it really that hard to pick oneself up and go to a place where opportunity shines a little brighter? Here is my American story. My husband and I moved from our respective home states and met at college. Between 1970 and 1980, we moved cross-country for his jobs and back to the heartland in pursuit of jobs and education.

Living in the rural Midwest during the early ’80s was hard due to a major recession; however, much of the time I could work overtime in a local factory and bring home bullshit pay. Unlike the person in Mr. Anthony’s song, I was happy being working poor. Evenings were filled with friends, music, and homegrown fun. Plus, I was minimizing my contribution to the wealth accumulation of the military-industrial complex. Nonetheless, at age 35, I looked at myself in the mirror and had a “come to Jesus” talk. So far I had nothing to show for my labor. Less than two hours away was a larger town with better jobs than factory piecework. I got a union job in that town, moved, worked nights while taking classes in a field that promised better pay. Eventually I was well prepared to start a career in my chosen field and found desirable employment in a pleasant location.

Was any of this easy? Not really. Was it quick? No. Did I persevere? Absolutely. In my opinion, Mr. Wright is correct that maintaining a strong sense of my agency in creating my own life is critical to success. Was success guaranteed? No way. I believe that a nontrivial part of my happy American story was due to good fortune in timing of opportunities for my professional growth, coupled with my willingness to engage those opportunities.

Quinn is heartened by the lyrics for political reasons:

As a lifelong liberal, I think the song is encouraging, because he’s talking about economic issues. This is the conversation we want to have and a conversation we can win. He’s expressing genuine and relatable pain; we need to convince him that his prescriptions are wrong. This is the conversation we’ve been winning for decades. Bring it on.

I.L. disagrees:

It's a song that boldly proclaims that it’s going to take wealthy, powerful people to task but then instead castigates poor welfare recipients and fat people as if they had any power to decide what [the singer’s] tax rates are. Meanwhile, absolutely zero corporations, agribusiness, super PACs, energy companies, or massive retailers are mentioned. It’s a bait and switch—the target audience is buying the switch and forgetting about the bait.

Meredith gives a mixed verdict:

The honesty, restraint, and emotion in Anthony’s voice evoke some of the best folk, country, and blues singers. His voice has a unique timbre that I find hard to describe. At its most emotional, his voice verges on despair; the guitar keeps enough lightness that the feeling doesn’t go over a cliff into complete self-pity. Some of the lyrics aren’t well thought out—and I say that not because I disagree with them but because they distract from the good lyrics.

From my perspective as a socialist feminist, the ideas and opinions that I disagree with are examples of the way in which the capitalist class divides the working class against itself. Anthony simultaneously criticizes capitalism and its hold on both major U.S. political parties, and incorrectly attributes [the narrator’s struggle] in part to taxes that fund public benefits.

All that being said, having now listened to Anthony’s other songs, I enjoy his melodies and his willingness to be vulnerable in his songwriting. He isn’t grandstanding; he is authentic.

And Jonathon believes that country music’s star is rising:

The verses leave much to be desired, but there is no denying that “’cause of rich men north of Richmond” is a brilliant hook. This song’s success is making me reconsider my perceptions of country music. I grew up on it. There was always a sense among fans that country music was countercultural. It fostered the sense of being a cultural underdog, or easily misunderstood or discarded by the cultural powers that be. But take a look at the chart dominance of “Last Night,” by Morgan Wallen, and Luke Combs’s [cover of] “Fast Car.” Jason Aldean’s “Try That in a Small Town” also hit No. 1. Country music is having a moment that is upending some of its assumptions about itself.

Is Trump Daring a Judge to Jail Him?

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › politics › archive › 2023 › 08 › trump-arraignment-charges-judge-first-amendment › 674993

When Donald Trump appeared last week in a Washington, D.C., courtroom for his arraignment on federal election charges, the presiding judge gave the former president a few simple instructions for staying out of jail while he awaited trial.

Trump could not talk to potential witnesses about the case except through lawyers, Magistrate Judge Moxila Upadhyaya told him, and he could not commit a crime on the local, state, or federal level. Both are standard directives to defendants. But then Upadhyaya added a warning that seemed tailored a bit more specifically to the blustery politician standing before her: “I want to remind you,” the judge said, “it is a crime to intimidate a witness or retaliate against anyone for providing information about your case to the prosecution, or otherwise obstruct justice.”

When Upadhyaya asked Trump if he understood, he nodded. Fewer than 24 hours later, Trump appeared to flout that very warning—in its spirit if not its letter—by threatening his would-be foes in an all-caps post on Truth Social: “IF YOU GO AFTER ME, I’M COMING AFTER YOU!” Over the following week, he attacked a potential witness in the case, former Vice President Mike Pence (“delusional”); Special Counsel Jack Smith (“deranged”); and the federal judge assigned to oversee his case, Tanya Chutkan, an appointee of former President Barack Obama (Smith’s “number one draft pick,” in Trump’s words).

Trump’s screeds highlight a challenge that will now fall to Chutkan to confront: constraining a defendant who’s both a former president and a leading candidate to take the White House—and who seems bent on making a mockery of his legal process.

“She’s in a tight spot,” Barbara McQuade, a former U.S. attorney in Michigan, says of Chutkan. Conceivably, the judge could find Trump in contempt of court and toss him in jail for violating the terms of his pretrial release. But even though in theory Trump should be treated like any other defendant, former prosecutors told me that he was exceedingly unlikely to go to prison over his pretrial statements. And Trump probably knows it. (Whether Trump will go to prison if he is convicted is another hotly debated matter.)

[Read: The humiliation of Donald Trump]

“I’m sure she would be very reluctant to do that, in light of the fact that he’s running for president,” McQuade told me. “So I think as a result, he has a very long leash, and I think he will simply dare her to revoke [his freedom] by saying the most outrageous things he can.”

At a pretrial hearing today, Chutkan issued her first warnings to Trump’s lawyers about their client, according to reporting by Steven Portnoy of ABC News and Kyle Cheney of Politico. “Mr. Trump, like every American, has a First Amendment right to free speech,” she said. “But that right is not absolute.” She said Trump’s presidential candidacy would not factor into her decisions, and she rebuffed suggestions by a Trump lawyer, John Lauro, that the former president had a right to respond to his political opponents in the heat of a campaign. “He’s a criminal defendant,” she reminded him. “He’s going to have restrictions like every single other defendant.”

Chutkan said she would be scrutinizing Trump’s words carefully, and she concluded with what she called “a general word of caution”: “Even arguably ambiguous statements from parties or their counsel,” the judge said, “can threaten the process.” She added: “I will take whatever measures are necessary to safeguard the integrity of these proceedings.”

Chutkan had called the hearing to determine whether to bar Trump and his lawyers from publicly disclosing evidence provided to them by prosecutors—a standard part of the pretrial process. The evidence includes millions of pages of documents and transcribed witness interviews from a year-long investigation, and the government argued that Trump or his lawyers could undermine the process by making them public before the trial. Despite her warnings to Trump’s team, she sided with the defense’s request to narrow the restrictions on what they could disclose, and she did not add other constraints on what he could say about the case.

Yet the effect of Chutkan’s courtroom comments was to put Trump on notice. If he continues to flout judicial warnings, she could place a more formal gag order on him, the ex-prosecutors said. And if he ignores that directive, she would likely issue additional warnings before considering a criminal-contempt citation. A further escalation, McQuade said, would be to hold a hearing and order Trump to show cause for why he should not be held in contempt. “Maybe she gives him a warning, and she gives him another chance and another chance, but eventually, her biggest hammer” is to send him to jail.

Judges have sanctioned high-profile defendants in other cases recently. In 2019, the Trump ally Roger Stone was barred from posting on major social-media platforms after Judge Amy Berman Jackson ruled that he had violated a gag order she had issued. (Stone did honor this directive.) The Trump foe Michael Avenatti, who represented Stormy Daniels in her case against Trump and briefly considered challenging him for the presidency, was jailed shortly before his trial on extortion charges after prosecutors accused him of disregarding financial terms of his bail. “He was just scooped up and thrown into solitary,” one of his former lawyers, E. Danya Perry, told me. She said that Avenatti was thrown into the same jail cell that had held El Chapo, the Mexican drug lord. (Avenatti later claimed that his treatment was payback ordered by then–Attorney General Bill Barr; the prison warden said he was placed in solitary confinement because of “serious concerns” about his safety, and Barr has called Avenatti’s accusation “ridiculous.”)

Neither Stone nor Avenatti, however, is as high-profile as Trump, arguably the most famous federal defendant in American history. And Perry doubts that Chutkan would imprison him before a trial. Trump has ignored warnings from judges overseeing the various civil cases brought against him over the years and has never faced tangible consequences. “He has done it so many times and he has managed to skate so many times that he certainly is emboldened,” Perry said.

Indeed, Trump has also suggested he would ignore a gag order from Chutkan. “I will talk about it. I will. They’re not taking away my First Amendment rights,” Trump told a campaign rally in New Hampshire on Wednesday.

Trump’s political motives for vilifying his prosecutors and once again portraying himself as the victim of a witch hunt are obvious: He’s trying to rile up his Republican base. Trump also seems to be executing something of a legal strategy in his public statements about the trial. He’s called Washington, D.C., “a filthy and crime-ridden embarrassment,” possibly reasoning that these remarks will force the court to agree to his request to shift the trial to a venue with a friendlier population of potential jurors, such as West Virginia.

[David A. Graham: Trump is acting like he’s cornered]

That’s less likely to work, according to the former prosecutors I interviewed. “I’d be shocked to see that be successful,” Noah Bookbinder, a former federal prosecutor who heads the anti-corruption advocacy group Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, told me. “It’s sort of like the old joke about the child who kills his mother and father and then asks for mercy because he’s an orphan. I just don’t see a court going for that.”

Trump’s attacks also present a problem for Smith, the special counsel. On one hand, prosecutors have a clear interest in ensuring that their witnesses do not feel intimidated; on the other, Smith could feel that trying to silence Trump would play into the former president’s victim narrative. Justice Department prosecutors alerted Chutkan to Trump’s “I’m coming after you” post in a court filing, and during today’s hearing they voiced concerns that if not restricted, Trump could disclose evidence to benefit his campaign. (A Trump spokesperson said the former president’s warning was “the definition of political speech,” and that it referred to “special interest groups and Super PACs” opposing his candidacy.) But Smith’s team did not ask Chutkan to fully gag Trump or even admonish him. “You see the prosecutors being very, very restrained,” Bookbinder said. “With a lot of defendants who were bad-mouthing the prosecutor and witnesses, they would have immediately gone in and asked for an order for the defendant to stop doing that.”

Bookbinder described the citation of Trump’s post as “a brushback pitch” by the government, a signal that they are watching the former president’s public statements closely. But like Chutkan, Smith might be reluctant to push the matter very far. Fighting with Trump over a gag order could distract from where the government wants to focus the case—on Trump’s alleged crimes—and it could indulge his desire to drag out the trial, Bookbinder noted. But the special counsel has to weigh those concerns against the possibility that an out-of-control defendant could jeopardize the safety of prosecutors and witnesses. “My strong suspicion is that Jack Smith doesn’t want to go there,” Bookbinder said. “I think at some point he may have little choice.”