So. The story thing.
This backward look isn’t designed just to get everyone all depressed again. I want to think about what lessons we can take from the campaign, so we avoid fighting and losing battles the same way for the next four years.
Let me avoid answering that directly by first questioning the premise of whether the Clinton general-election campaign had a story or not. No argument from me that she wasn’t as laser focused as Trump on a small set of issues, and she practically reveled in the sheer quantity of policy proposals and position papers that filled up her website. She could have honed her presentation further, and made a stronger, more consistent presentation of her economic message.
But she did try to turn her wonkishness into an asset by emphasizing her workhorse, prose-more-than-poetry approach to campaigning and (crucially) governing. The story around this could be defined in appropriately uninspiring language as, “I’m not flashy, but I will always work my hardest to get the job done.” Which, despite being true, had the unfortunate distinction of following on the heels of one of the most inspiring political figures in generations. (Obama. I mean Obama, people.)
Okay, so maybe there was a story there, but it was a lackluster one that couldn’t be turned into a rallying cry, or open itself up to allow different audiences beyond a small set of Pluggers to see themselves in it.
There was another campaign story, however, that was more stirring and more inviting: Stronger Together. From the very first campaign video (even before that tag line was in place), the sense of inclusiveness, the willingness to directly address traditionally marginalized populations and the optimistic idea that we can be more powerful when we stand united was the core of a story that, but for 80,000 or so votes, we would currently be retelling and holding up as a masterful achievement. But ultimately this story was pushed off toward the sidelines. It never went away, but circumstance and calculation led in another direction.
And that was the story the campaign stuck with through the fall, what I’d call, “Can you believe this guy?” Presented variously in serious, shocked, mocking and alarmist tones, it was a story intended to highlight the historic, and historically threatening, reality of Donald Trump as president. It was supposed to be a wakeup call — to Democrats and progressives, to “mainstream” Republicans, to right-thinking people everywhere. It was a very simple, very scary story: We can’t let this happen.
So while there may not have been a single story thread from campaign’s start to its bitter end, there was in the final months a faceoff between two stories. Make America Great Again v. Keep American Sane Already.
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All of which is remarkable, when you step back from the day-to-day campaign and remember that Hillary was going to be our first female president.
This was supposed to be huge. And unlike 2008, this year she embraced the ceiling-breaking nature of her run. Yet it was always as a representative of a greater, deserving, longsuffering “we,” not a triumphant “I” — she was just plugging away on behalf of other women. Clearly she recognized the inspiring nature of this story, and knew that there were millions of women and men passionate about what she represented. It was a rallying cry she could use in stump speeches (and catchphrases: I’m With Her).
But it was never the overt center of the campaign — in part I think because they assumed the history-about-to-be-made was a story that had a life and energy of its own; a story they could leverage for free. What they didn’t bank on was this story becoming completely subsumed by a different kind of history-making story.
Even without that motivational tale, though, the other ones the campaign rolled out seem like they should have been good enough. Unfortunately, there turned out to be several fatal flaws with her approach — some strategic, some tactical and one insurmountable.
And on that cliffhanger, stay tuned for part three!