Donald Trump’s decisive victory may proclaim an unpredictable new era for American government and society, but it also reaffirmed an enduring political truth: It is virtually impossible for the incumbent president’s party to hold the White House when Americans are discontented with that president’s performance.

Americans provided Trump with a sweeping victory after a campaign in which he had darkly promised “retribution” against a long list of enemies and offered an agenda centered on mass deportation of undocumented immigrants. Trump seems within reach of winning the popular vote, becoming the first Republican to do so since 2004. Republicans, exulting in winning at least three Senate seats as well as the White House, instantly called the magnitude of the victory “a mandate”—and Trump seems sure to treat it as a license to pursue his most aggressive ideas.

Vice President Kamala Harris and her team, recognizing the threat of widespread disillusionment with President Joe Biden, tried to transform the Democratic campaign from a retrospective referendum on the performance of the administration in which she served into a prospective choice about the agenda and style of leadership she and Trump would bring to the next four years. Ultimately, she could not overcome the widespread unhappiness over the country’s current conditions. Biden’s approval rating among voters never exceeded 43 percent in any of the major swing states, according to exit polls. At least 55 percent of voters in each of those states said that they disapproved of Biden’s performance, and Trump typically won four-fifths or more of them.

Overall, despite any expectation to the contrary, the gender gap was not especially large. Harris’s inability to amass a greater advantage among women likely reflected the fact that they were at least as dissatisfied with the economy and Biden’s performance as men were, according to exit polls. Just 44 percent of women in exit polls said they approved of Biden’s performance, and nearly seven in 10 described the economy in negative terms—a view even more emphatic than the one men expressed.

Disapproval of Biden’s record and disaffection over the economy proved a headwind that Harris could not overcome. Exit polls showed that Americans remained concerned about the possible excesses of a second Trump presidency. But in their deep frustration over current conditions, they placed less weight on those worries.

[Read: How Donald Trump won everywhere]

As Doug Sosnik, the top White House political adviser to Bill Clinton, wrote in an email yesterday: “The 2024 election marks the biggest shift to the right in our country since Ronald Reagan’s victory in 1980.” The New York Times calculated that nine in 10 U.S. counties moved at least somewhat toward Trump in this cycle. A striking sign of that change was his dramatic improvement in big urban centers with large populations of Black and/or Latino voters, including the counties encompassing Philadelphia, Detroit, and Las Vegas. But Trump also improved (compared with 2020) in communities dominated by working-class white voters, such as Macomb in Michigan, Luzerne in Pennsylvania, and Kenosha and the small cities around Green Bay in Wisconsin.

Harris maintained the Democratic hold on the prosperous, well-educated inner suburbs around major cities. But in most of them, her party’s margins declined relative to its 2020 results. She slipped just slightly in predominantly white-collar areas such as Montgomery and Delaware Counties outside Philadelphia, and Oakland outside Detroit, and failed to improve on Biden’s deficit in Waukesha, around Milwaukee. The result was that in Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin, Harris’s margins in these big suburbs were closer to Hillary Clinton’s in 2016 than Biden’s in 2020. That wasn’t enough to withstand what I’ve called the “pincer” move of Trump’s concurrent gains in the smaller, mostly white, blue-collar places and the much more diverse urban cores.

The geographic pattern of actual vote tallies for Trump captured the magnitude of the red shift more vividly than the two major surveys that try to measure voters’ behavior for media organizations: the exit polls conducted by Edison Research and the VoteCast survey done by NORC. Neither found any increase from 2020 in the national level of support for Trump among white voters; nor did the exit polls show more than minimal improvement for him among white voters in the Rust Belt states. The exit polls recorded modest improvements for Trump among Black voters, with his gains coming entirely from men, and a big improvement among Latinos. (VoteCast found solid advances for Trump among both Black and Latino voters.) In each survey, Trump made his most dramatic gains with Latino men but scored notable improvements among Latina women as well. Young voters, in both data sets, moved notably toward Trump as well.

The exit polls showed Harris winning women (of all races) by eight percentage points and losing men by 13 points. The VoteCast study similarly showed Harris winning women by seven points and Trump winning men by 10 percentage points. At that level, Harris’s lead with women was much smaller than Biden’s in 2020, and even smaller than Clinton’s advantage in 2016.

The story on the economy was similar. Two-thirds of voters in the national exit polls described the economy as only fair or poor; roughly that many expressed negative views in each of the three former “Blue Wall” states and Arizona, with discontent rising to about seven in 10 in North Carolina and Nevada, and beyond that in Georgia. Solid majorities of those economically discontented voters backed Trump in each state. So did a big majority of the roughly 45 percent of voters who said they were worse off than four years ago.

Harris did win handsomely among those who said they were better off, but they constituted just one in four voters. She also won the narrow backing of those who said their condition was unchanged. But none of that was enough to overcome Trump’s preponderant advantage among those who thought their condition had deteriorated under Biden.

Working-class voters without a college degree—many of them living paycheck to paycheck—were especially down on the economy. More than three-fourths of white voters without a college degree nationwide described the economy in negative terms—as did seven in 10 Latino voters. (An even more telling eight in 10 Latinos did so in the Sun Belt swing state of Nevada.)

The issues that Harris and the Democrats had hoped would offset economic discontent simply did not have enough bite. Two-thirds of voters in the national exit polls said that abortion should be legal in all or most circumstances, but about three in 10 of those voters supported Trump anyway. More than a quarter of women nationwide who supported legal abortion backed Trump.

[Read: Why Biden’s team thinks Harris lost]

The muting of the abortion issue was especially dramatic in the former Blue Wall states that ultimately settled Harris’s fate. In 2022, the first election after the Supreme Court rescinded the constitutional right to abortion, Democratic gubernatorial candidates Gretchen Whitmer in Michigan and Josh Shapiro in Pennsylvania each won about four-fifths of voters who supported legal abortion, while Tony Evers in Wisconsin carried about three-fourths of them. But, in a crucial erosion of that pro-choice support, Harris won only about two-thirds of those voters in Michigan and Wisconsin and about seven in 10 in Pennsylvania. A much smaller share of voters in each state said abortion should be illegal most of the time, but Trump won about nine in 10 of those.

Harris did not entirely fail at raising alarms about Trump. In the national exit polls, 54 percent of voters agreed that Trump was “too extreme.” But about one in nine voters who viewed Trump as too extreme voted for him anyway—a striking measure of their willingness to risk an uncertain future over an unacceptable present. Likewise, in the VoteCast survey, 55 percent of voters said they were very or somewhat concerned that Trump would steer the U.S. in a more authoritarian direction; yet nearly one in six of those voters supported him.

“I think that Trump has been helped by this sense that things are careening out of control at home and abroad, and it makes people more willing to contemplate the smack of authority,” William Galston, a senior fellow at the center-left Brookings Institution, told me.

Jackie Payne, the founder and executive director of Galvanize Action, which studies moderate white women, told me that according to her research, many female voters who believed Trump would improve their economic situation simply brushed aside rhetoric and proposals from him that they found troubling. “They were choosing to believe a vision of him that was aligned with what they wanted to get out of him—a strong economy—and they were absolutely discounting anything that felt extreme as disinformation or hyperbole, even if he said he would do it,” she said.

Voters around the world have reached similar judgments this year in the aftermath of the inflation that followed the coronavirus pandemic: As a Financial Times analyst pointed out this week, incumbent parties have lost ground, or lost power altogether, in all 10 major democracies that held elections in 2024. The priority voters gave to current economic conditions in their decision making followed a long U.S. tradition too. Incumbent presidents with low public-approval ratings almost never win reelection—as Jimmy Carter in 1980, George H. W. Bush in 1992, and Trump himself in 2020 demonstrated. The similar but less discussed scenario is the difficulty facing a party seeking to hold the White House even when its unpopular president isn’t running. That applied when Harry Truman in 1952, Lyndon B. Johnson in 1968, and George W. Bush in 2008 were off the ballot; their party lost the race to replace them in each case. Biden now joins that dour procession.

But the most apt precedent for this election may be 1980. Laboring under widespread discontent, including over a raging bout of inflation, Carter tried to use his campaign to shift attention to the risks he said his right-wing rival, Ronald Reagan, represented, with some success: Doubts about Reagan did keep Carter close in the polls. But in the campaign’s final days, voters decided that continuity with Carter represented a greater risk than change with Reagan—and flocked to the challenger in crushing numbers.

[Read: How Trump neutralized his abortion problem]

Voters were willing to take an even greater leap this time. Trump made almost no accommodation for voters uneasy about him. Instead, he intensified his false accusations, inflammatory racist rhetoric, and profane personal attacks. Trump has surrounded himself with extreme figures who promise a revolution in government and society.

His senior immigration advisers have promoted plans for a militarized mass-deportation operation, complete with internment camps, and the possible removal of U.S.-citizen children of undocumented adults. His party is likely to control both chambers of Congress—and in any case, the president has broad unilateral authority to set immigration policy, as well as to impose the large tariffs Trump has pledged. The Supreme Court’s conservative majority has already rendered him virtually immune to criminal prosecution for any action he takes as president. Trump is returning to the White House unbound.

Reagan’s victory in 1980 solidified a realignment in American politics that began under his Republican predecessor, Richard Nixon. Reagan cemented working-class white voters into the conservative movement’s electoral coalition—both white southern evangelical Christians and northern industrial workers in places such as Michigan’s Macomb County—who became lastingly known as “Reagan Democrats.” Those voters remain a cornerstone GOP constituency: Even four-plus decades later, they were the two groups that supported Trump in the largest numbers on Tuesday.

Many Republicans believe that Trump now has the chance to secure an equally significant shift in the party allegiance of Black men and Latino voters of both genders, who voted for him in historic numbers this week. That opportunity surely exists. But realizing it in a lasting way will require Trump and the Republican Party to maintain the support of millions of voters of color and justify their faith in him on the economy over any concern about policies such as mass deportation and more aggressive law enforcement.

Now those communities, along with all of the other Americans disappointed in Biden over the past four years, will learn whether Trump can deliver the economic benefits he promised without plunging the country into deeper acrimony.

Tuesday evening, while waiting for national election results to come in, I dropped by the victory party for Mark Robinson, the North Carolina Republican nominee for governor. It was, as you might expect, a strange scene.

Robinson, the lieutenant governor, had become persona non grata among most other Republicans in September, when a CNN report revealed his bizarre posts—about slavery, being a “Black Nazi,” transgender porn, and more—on the porn site Nude Africa. He was no longer invited to attend rallies for the Donald Trump campaign, his fundraising dried up, and his campaign was left for dead.

The party, held on the top floor of a skyscraper in Raleigh, was pointedly separate from other North Carolina GOP festivities. Some 60 or 70 supporters crammed into a small room in a private club watching Fox News. It was a more diverse crowd than any other Republican gathering I’ve ever attended, and nearly everyone was decked out in Robinson gear. I noticed only one piece of Trump swag, and a wide range of other fashion choices. A younger Black man wore a satin jacket with red-sequin embroidery; an older white guy wore a white tuxedo jacket, complete with bow tie, over a red Mark Robinson T-shirt.

Polls in North Carolina closed at 7:30 p.m. ET. Just a few minutes later, Fox News projected that the Democrat Josh Stein, the current state attorney general, would beat Robinson. I expected to hear jeers or a murmur or feel some deflation in the room, but nothing happened. I started wondering if I’d misread, but no: Fox repeated the call several times in the next few minutes, and eventually someone changed the channel to Spectrum News. I asked some attendees what they made of the news, and was told over and over that they had hope that the call was premature.

[David A. Graham: The great, disappearing Trump campaign]

This was not exactly a denial, and around 9, Robinson took the stage and conceded the race. “The window of opportunity for us to win this race is closing quick, folks,” he said. “Doesn’t seem like it’s going our way tonight. But it’s always going our way. Whether people want it to or not, people of faith know it’s going to go the right way, because we’ve read the back of the book. We know how this all comes to an end.” He barely alluded to the scandals that had sunk his campaign, saying, “It’s not about the lies; it’s not about the half-truths.” Soon, attendees began streaming out, clutching handfuls of campaign signs and hats.

It was a fittingly weird start to a weird night in North Carolina politics. The Old North State delivered a series of results that show why national Democrats have been so hopeful about flipping it, while likely discouraging them from trying again for some time.

Trump won the state in the presidential election. Kamala Harris received both a smaller percentage of the vote than President Joe Biden did four years ago and (in unofficial results) a smaller absolute number of votes. That all happened despite a massive campaign infrastructure and get-out-the-vote operation, especially as compared with the Trump campaign. In the deep-red counties where Harris had hoped to cut into Republican margins, she barely managed to move the ball or else lost ground. National Democrats poured money into the state, and once again, it broke their hearts.

Down the ballot, however, North Carolina Democrats had a good night. Stein beat Robinson by almost 15 points. That matches with some of the public polling on the race, but most insiders seemed to expect a margin closer to the high single-digits. The Democrat Rachel Hunt flipped the lieutenant governor’s seat. Jeff Jackson held off Dan Bishop for attorney general; no Republican has won the seat since the 19th century. Secretary of State Elaine Marshall won another term. For superintendent of public instruction, Mo Green beat Michele Morrow, who attended the January 6, 2021, rally and called for Barack Obama’s execution. In a heartbreaker for Democrats, state-supreme-court justice Allison Riggs appears to have lost her seat narrowly, but in the state legislature, Democrats broke a veto-proof Republican supermajority. U.S. Representative Don Davis eked out a win in northeastern North Carolina.

[David A. Graham: Mark Robinson is testing the bounds of GOP extremism]

One lesson from this is that North Carolina really is a purple state, as the political scientist Chris Cooper describes in a new book. Voters are happy to elect Democrats at the state level; they just don’t want them in the White House or the U.S. Senate. (The last election North Carolinians selected a Democrat for either was in 2008.)

Across the country, the election looks similar—more a repudiation of national Democrats, and especially the Democratic candidate for president, than a rejection of Democratic policy priorities. (I argued yesterday that Trump’s simple message on the economy is what carried him to victory.) Harris made abortion a centerpiece of her campaign and lost, but voters in seven states passed ballot referenda protecting abortion rights—some in blue states, but also in purple and red states including Arizona, Nevada, and Montana. Missouri voters overturned an abortion ban. And 57 percent of Floridians supported a ballot issue, a number that nonetheless fell short of the 60 percent required for passage. A majority, but not the requisite supermajority, of Floridians also voted to legalize recreational cannabis use. Even in U.S. Senate races, Democratic candidates ran ahead of Harris in almost every competitive contest. (Florida was the odd race out.)

That mixed result is also a mixed message for Democrats trying to figure out where the party goes from here. Having a reasonably popular policy platform is theoretically good news for them, but that isn’t much use if they can’t win the offices required to institute or defend those policies. But with little real power in Washington for the next two years, they’ll have plenty of time to think about the conundrum.

The morning after the election, a second result emerged beside the blindingly obvious one that Donald Trump will once again be president of the United States: In some places, abortion rights remained a winning issue.

Ballot measures to expand abortion access passed in seven states, including Missouri, Arizona, and Montana, three places that Trump won. Previous polling and election outcomes had shown that most Americans support abortion rights. Less clear was how they’d behave with Trump on the ballot. The issue of abortion may have shed its partisan salience—just not in a way that helped Kamala Harris and other Democrats. Abortion access “is becoming less partisan, ironically, in the sense that Republicans and independents are more likely to support abortion rights,” Mary Ziegler, a law professor at UC Davis and an Atlantic contributor, told me, “while not translating that into support for Democratic candidates.”

For Democrats and abortion-rights activists, last night’s referendums were glittering pinpricks of light in an otherwise long, dark night of defeats. The White House—gone; control of the Senate—gone; the House of Representatives—clearly leaning Republican. Missouri, which went for Trump by 18 percent and had one of the strictest abortion bans in America, voted 52 to 48 percent to establish a constitutional guarantee to the “fundamental right to reproductive freedom.” Similar measures passed in Arizona and Montana, by 23 and 15 points so far, respectively. Four other states—Nevada, Maryland, New York, and Colorado—passed their own abortion measures, though these were less politically revealing, given the existing abortion-rights protections there.

Not all the news was rosy for abortion-rights activists. Ballot measures failed in Nebraska by 2.6 points and in South Dakota by 17. Different reasons might account for those losses, Ziegler said. Nebraska had two abortion referendums on the ballot, each proposing contrary changes to state law, which could easily have confused voters. In Florida, a large majority of voters did support an effort to overturn the state’s six-week abortion ban—but it fell a few points short of the 60 percent needed to pass.

Those three state results were the biggest wins the anti-abortion movement has achieved since the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022. Expect to hear this example touted more widely, Ziegler said. “Activists will take that to Republicans and say, ‘Hey, you don’t need to be afraid of being pro-life. You can take aggressive positions,’” she told me. “This should be a huge encouragement to the pro-life movement,” the conservative political commentator Matt Walsh wrote on X yesterday afternoon. “We have a lot of work to do. But the people are on our side.”

That would be an overstatement, based on last night’s results. Harris had worked to make abortion rights a strong campaign issue—though not enough, evidently, to carry her party to victory. But abortion-rights groups achieved victories in spite of the Democrats’ failed presidential efforts. Several factors are involved: Abortion access is popular. And Trump, through his chaotic and confusing abortion tightrope walk, may have successfully neutralized the issue for now, for his voters: assuring enough pro-choice voters that he would protect their reproductive rights, while hanging on to pro-life base voters who want him to further restrict abortion access. “Trump created this possibility of being all things to all people,” Ziegler told me.

[Listen: Are we living in a different America?]

But when you’re president, you have to pick. A near future in which Trump continues to downplay any talk of restricting abortion and focuses instead on issues that do not divide his voter coalition, such as immigration, is easy to imagine. “And then there’s a scenario where he doesn’t, and the partisan divide springs back as ever,” Ziegler said. If that happens, then what the anti-abortion movement will be demanding from a second Trump administration is immediate executive action to restrict abortion. That could mean appointments of committed anti-abortion officials to important Cabinet positions—former Texas solicitor general Jonathan Mitchell for attorney general, say, or Heritage Foundation adviser Roger Severino as the head of the Department of Health and Human Services. It could also involve a reinterpretation of the Comstock Act, which could see abortion banned across the country de facto, without any congressional legislative action at all.

The anti-abortion movement may not be successful in these maneuvers. Little suggests, right now, that Trump is interested in cementing his legacy as the most pro-life president in history. But the one thing Americans can almost certainly count on is a slew of new anti-abortion judges appointed to the federal courts. Conservative groups are already floating favored names—such as the Fifth Circuit’s James Ho and Kristen Waggoner, the chief executive of the pro-life group Alliance Defending Freedom—for the Supreme Court. With a Republican Senate, these could be easy appointments. “That may be how Trump has his cake and eats it too,” Ziegler said. “Put conservatives on the courts, and their decisions may not happen until years after he’s no longer in office.”

After last night, abortion-rights activists can take a measure of comfort in the confirmation that their position is still popular. But cutting against that is the fact that abortion rights are no cure-all for Democrats—especially when the leader of the Republican Party has apparently managed to detoxify the issue.