How to Understand and Challenge Trump Supporters: The Eight Political Styles, Twenty Negatives, and Ongoing Opportunity To Meet Trump Supporters Where They Are
As a white Christian father of four, I have voted for and across both parties my whole life. Over the last decade living in a deep red state, I have also consistently voiced anti-Trump positions to many dear friends and Trump supporters. Here is my working report.
I am convinced that, in order to effect meaningful civic change while remaining (even becoming closer) friends, every US voter could do a bit better job of meeting one another where we are at, extending grace to one another as people, and also critically engage with one another on the substance and the specifics that support civic society. That first includes me. So, to that end, here is my attempt to sketch out the seven styles I see my friends use to support Trump, the nineteen challenges I see against their case, and the opportunity to both understand and challenge Trump supporters where they stand.
I do not have objections to Trump existentially: I think almost 80-year-olds would do well to retire to the golf course. But I see ample reason to be very clear on this: Trump is a bad bet, and it is not too hard to show why.
Seven Political Styles of Trump Supporters
Let’s start by addressing how Trump supporters support Trump. Listed from most likely to least likely, I have encountered the following working seven political styles that my friends use to support Trump so far:
(1) uncertainty (or an absent style),
(2) party affiliation (or a muted social style),
(3) social solidarity (or a visual team spirit style),
(4) fears and threats (or an agitated style),
(5) a worldview correction (or an inverted and often indirect style),
(6) a reaction against anti-Trump sentiment (or a negative style), and
(7) policy positions (or a reluctant style).
Some of these work better than others. (I’ll save the eighth for the conclusion.)
In short, most of my Trump supporting friends so far do not say why they support Trump, some just vote their conventional party ticket, some like the sense of social belonging, some feel agitated and react to that fear, some want to correct the rest of the world, some want to correct anti-Trump sentiment, and a precious few bring policy justifications.
Roughly ordered from most to least frequent, most Trump supporters I know support Trump by…
1. Uncertainty, or never clarifying why they support him. The absent style here is effectively cheerleading without explanation. This most often occurs through the sharing memes where the poster endorses a few words from an unknown meme author to receive a chorus of equally short enthusiasms from their like-minded friends. This absent style enjoys signs of social solidarity without having to express why. Here is my question to this Trump supporter: Why this guy? Trump is not a usual case, even on his own terms; so isn’t it vital to explain your reasoning for positively supporting an unusual case, even if only to yourself? Doesn’t an increasingly unusual case deserve unusually careful explanation (if only to yourself)?
2. A muted party affiliation, or expressing their lifelong or traditional support for the Republican Party, not Trump. The muted style here is to effectively avoid specifics and to lean on cultural mores inherited from parents and others about political parties. This muted style usually is quieter than repeating a meme; instead it requires stretching the assumption that civic politics have not changed since the childhood dinner table. My question here follows: does Trump pass the Republican sniff test to you — how about to your grandparents? And if Trump were to demonstrably NOT represent conservative values (see below), why would you support him?
3. Social solidarity, or a sense of collective belonging to a larger cause. The social style here is almost always formed through social relationships, and is not explicit about content. It is visual, iconographic, full of bright colors, and few to no claims. In other words, here Trump supporters express their support for Trump by repeating and thus reaffirming their social belonging with other Trump supporters — this solidarity with their fellows is clearer and stronger than their solidarity with Trump himself. Tribal solidarity brings excitement about being part of a cause without having to express specific reasons about that cause itself. I get this: almost all humans want to belong to a special group. I dignify that sense of belonging these folks feel. It is normal to want to be part of something important and special and unusual. So while we all understand the draw of tribalism, I wonder, why this specific tribe? What does the Trump tribe stand for, not in vague symbolic sense, but in specific practice? What specific values (not “victory” or a “better future”) does this specific tribe lead to more than any other? What should we do when a tribe feels good on the inside but mostly appears to be oriented against others on the outside? Once we all dignify why you would support one another, what are you all specifically supporting in Trump himself?
4. Fear or reaction to an external threat, or expressing their support for Trump as an explicit response to an outside threat. I won’t belabor the famous work on “paranoid style” here, except to note that what I am calling the agitated style here shows that the voter’s world is threatened by some outside enemy or opponent, and that Trump represents the response most likely to stop or slow that enemy or fear. The nameable threats shift conveniently with each conversation but they almost always tend to be vague, under-defined, and menacing threats. In other words, the threat is almost never something specific like a person (e.g., the rule of law under Kamala Harris). It has been, so far, foggy bugbears such as “the radical left/liberals/alphabet people,” “blue China or Burisma Ukraine,” “an invasion of migrant crime/foreign gangs,” etc. My question to those battling such fears would be to hear your fears, confirm that I sometimes feel them too, and to ask, quite sincerely, what should we do when the threats add up to a lot of campaign-season smoke but no fire? What do we do with fears and threats when, upon review, they turn out to be diminished or very different? Once vague, threat and fear specifics often look less menacing: for example, the left and liberals are anything but a unified bloc, China is in relative economic stagnation, crime in the US is down, immigrants commit fewer crimes in the US than US-born people — and that’s in Texas. How credible are threats that reliably disappear after campaign season?
5. A correction to an upside down world, or the corrective style indirectly implies Trump support through a clever (if often subconscious) two-step: first, claim that the rest of the world is upside down on some specific issue, and then, imply that, since Trump appears upside down from the rest of the world in general, he must be the best correction to that original claim. For example, the opening ceremonies of the Paris Olympics, fed by misleading news stories on the right, convinced many evangelical Christians and Russian Orthodox that “all the world is mocking Christianity” (even though the remaining billion Christians who saw the ceremonies had no problem): while often left unsaid, the conclusion follows that an upsidedown politician appeared to this small group to be the best correction to an upsidedown world. The reaction to the Algerian boxer story was similar red meat for his base: Trump supporters often raised the upsidedown world objection that “all the world has gone crazy about there being more than two genders” in order to not have to actively defend their specific or positive support for Trump. Similarly, second amendment defenders often point to counterfactual fears so severe —e.g. “ I need my machine gun to defend against government tanks” — that no past legislation or any plausible military scenario in the future would ever justify it. The political style here is to avoid making clear or plausible claims about reality by positing the rest of the world to be upside down — and then implicitly drawing a parallel between a poorly behaved world and a poorly behaved candidate who will correct it. Here I ask, how likely are these two steps in combination: first, that the whole world is upside down? And second, that one person will correct, not exacerbate, that upsidedown? If these were good bets, then, why out of a billions Christians worldwide did only Russian Orthodox and US evangelicals, two subpopulations prone to defend a very specific would-be autocrat, get upset about the Olympic ceremony screenshots? Where is there room in our world for the complex gender and sexuality of athletes if not in our biology, culture, and policy?
Please note that, so far, out of the many political styles, the first five have not asked the Trump supporter to express why they positively support this candidate. There’s two reasons for that, I think, which we will come to in a moment.
6. A negative style, or a reaction against the partisan reaction against Trump. In other words, some Trump support expresses itself as a reaction to anti-Trump sentiment — or as anti-anti-Trump. Such negative style is a normal part of Madisonian negative partisanship in a bipartisan system. When there are only two candidates who can win each ballot contest, it is often appropriate and surely necessary (if likely never sufficient) to argue against the other candidate. Emotionally taxing, negative style is currently necessary to argue for your candidate by arguing against the other candidate (this would change overnight with shorter campaigns for multiple party and rank-order ballots). So while some negative style should be welcomed and expected in campaign seasons, what remains unexplained is the basic philosophical premise of any bipartisan system: why would rejecting one candidate be good grounds for supporting another? In other words, while whataboutisms run in both directions, what remains especially remarkable is their nonequivalence on the question of Trump: namely, I would ask, why should we believe that in civics the opposite of a negative is a positive? Conspiracy theories fail because they also believe this. Why isn’t it more likely that Trump is a negative reaction to an uneven network of other negative reactions? I, for one, am almost always convinced that the opposite of a negative is not a positive — it is another negative.
7. Finally, there do exist the rare Trump policy supporters. These folks have the defining feature of expressing a reluctant style on content around him — and also the defining virtue of being the first of these seven styles to explicitly state what they believe and why in policy terms, to accept the costs of those beliefs, and to place their negotiated bets. Such a reluctant and negotiated style is, of course, sustainablei if rarely practiced: it offers specific, not overstrong support. The reluctant Trump policy supporter welcomes evidence of a complicated world and, since they see politics as a means to an end, they are prepared to check Trump later on (or at least have reconciled with their inability to check Trump later on). Here I would ask, what Trump policies do you support, what specifics in policy did the first Trump administration convince you with, and why?
No doubt I have missed some of the styles for supporting Trump (I save one more for the conclusion): please improve my modest attempts at trying to understand my friends. Meanwhile, friends, those of you who find yourself somewhere in these descriptions, please help me think about my own justification for being against Trump.
Note that out of the seven political styles to support Trump above, only one (the reluctant policy supporter) necessarily explains the why.
Most Trump supporters probably don’t know why they are supporting him because, most of the time, they don’t have to know why.
Our civic opportunity — especially the opportunity and obligation of anti-Trump voices — is to meet Trump supporters where they are at — and to gently ask: why do you support Trump? And then to listen.
I think there are at least two reasons that Trump supporters do not publicly justify their support of him, one structural and one specific: first, our Madisonian negative bipartisan system (two winnable parties, where the only way to stop one candidate is to vote for the other) does not require explaining positive reasons from anyone — it only requires voting against the worst candidate, therefore, most voters won’t need to ever reflect on why they feel the way they do. They only need to know why they feel worse about the alternative; all each of us must do is vote for that candidate that will beat the worst candidate (and then spend the next four years checking the candidate they voted for).
Second, and most obviously, is that based only on the balance of evidence, Trump-Vance is a remarkably worse bet than Harris-Walz.
Since the cases are so uneven, folks who do not know why they feel one way have no choice but to dig in. Hence, we all — anti-Trump and Trump supporters alike — need a chance to reflect, dignify, and reweigh the balance of evidence.
Please note I am deliberately NOT focusing on all the many positives that these candidates bring to the decision (not the varieties of experience, not the happy aunt and uncle vibes, not the wealth of good news). Politics seeks to avoid risk, so let’s look the risks in the face.
Negatives against Harris:
1. Harris was a fairly centrist-conservative liberal on the ticket in 2020. She lost in the 2020 primary for her fairly conservative record as a lifelong big cop punishing petty offenders, and, as a firm representative of rule under the law, is unlikely to carry out meaningful criminal justice reform. For conservatives, this should be a relative wash, perhaps a positive.
2. Harris has not made much progress on the US-Mexico border situation, whose system for processing legal immigration has been breaking or broken since the late 1970s. She is not responsible for the Republicans refusing to pass the immigration bill they wrote, but she, like almost all Vice Presidents before her, is responsible for having accomplished very little in her executive office. For most everyone, this is a wash.
3. Noting that centrists are often disliked from both sides, Harris has always been popular enough to win her elections but has never enjoyed massive popularity before assuming the position as presumptive nominee last month. Some but probably not all of this can be attributed to latent misogyny and racism against women of mixed Black and South Asian backgrounds. Whether our country will elect women to where they belong — as the demographic majority of all representative bodies (White House, Judiciary, Congress, on down) — remains an open question given our current record of 45 Mr. Presidents and zero Madam Presidents to date.
There are no doubt there may be other negatives but none rise to the yellow alert level. In short, I believe the appropriate position on Harris is to recognize that her outcomes too will disappoint and should be checked, but, even ignoring her obvious positives, she presents no worse than a minor negative case. Plus her VP gives off adorable good dad vibes.
And, based on the evidence, her opponent is far, far worse off.
Negatives against Trump:
1. Trump is a criminal. Trump is a felon convicted by a jury of his peers (not elected judges) who, after reviewing the evidence, convicted him unanimously on all accounts. His organization has roughly 10,000 legal cases brought against it over his career. He would bring to the Oval Office countless court cases, investigations, and legal fees numbering the hundreds of millions of dollars. This outside legal pressure would make him even more likely to use Presidential powers not in the public interest but for himself. It is not OK to grant a person with mounting legal troubles the responsibility for executing laws for an entire country — and it is even worse to grant official immunity from the law to the executor of the law. This alone is disqualifying.
2. Trump is sexually immoral and abusive to women. Thrice married, he has a long record of facing credible sexual abuse accusations from judges and many women at the beauty pageant he owned. He has bragged publicly about abusing women. He has suggested, without discomfort, that he would have consider dating his daughter were she not his daughter (Ivanka is the closest thing to the female version of the person he loves most — himself). His imprisoned lawyer arranged for hush payments around his alleged affair with a porn star not long after his third wife had given birth. Married to an immigrant, his public rhetoric is anti-immigrant. It is not OK to have an old, abusive philanderer representing a nation whose future is its majority of women and whose vast majority are respectful people. This alone is disqualifying.
3. Trump is a clinical narcissist. He expresses grievances against others and has perhaps never expressed public grief for others. He made fame, not fortune, by being a television entertainer known for catchphrases about firing people, and slapping his name in gold to casinos, stakes, and universities that fell through. In the name of his own self-interest, he publicly attacks, divides, lies, and fans the fears of the American public. His self-oriented temperament is constitutionally unfit for the highest office meant to serve others. While politicians necessarily have a worrying will to power, his level of clinical narcissism alone is disqualifying.
4. Trump is unlikely to transfer power peacefully again in 2028. Given that the first administration ended in his tolerating and promising to pardon an attack on the Capitol, a second administration has even more reason to do what the first administration did, which was popularize birtherist objections to its opponents, fan unfounded claims about election interference, cast doubt on the legitimacy of our votes, seek to find additional needed votes to win in swing states, seek out and encourage faithless electors, and generally seek any means by which to not step down from power peacefully (as, in a rare move, Biden just modeled voluntarily). This is very bad for any republic. His actions in 2020 alone are disqualifying — and the threat of worse at the end of a second Trump administration in 2028 rise to red alert.
5. Trump denies the reality of climage change, calling it a hoax in 2024 and withdrawing from the Paris accords in 2017. Any mortal should take seriously the changes besetting the global climate right now — and we all should demand that all of us, especially our leaders, examine and take the causes and consequences of climate change seriously and carefully, collaboratively and timely. Climate change cannot be mitigated without all life on earth learning to work a bit better together, and Trump openly stands for division and brags of isolationalism (a classically democratic position). While one may have different approaches on policy, declaring climate change a hoax alone is disqualifying.
6. Trump fans ethnonationalist, racist, and anti-family rhetoric and policies. He deliberately caged thousands of immigrant children from their parents seeking a better life by declaring legal asymlum in the US, many of whom remain separated today. He promised to make Mexico pay for a wall that he then overspent on, addingly only about 80 miles of new wall to the initial 450 miles of preexisting barriers, with thousands of miles unchanged. The wall, moreover, does nothing to slow legal flights and boats from immigrating into the US. He rolled back DACA, instituted an openly religiously and ethnically discriminatory ban against Muslim travel to the US, and offered a two-page plan, with no criminal justice system reform, for Black America. He accused and fabricates birtherist lies about his opponents. All of this is worrying, obviously immoral, and especially the open evil of caging children is disqualifying.
While no one of the remaining 14 negatives is necessarily disqualifying itself, the combination of any two of them, nevermind 14, clearly is:
7. Trump is unfit to command the top spot for sensitive information since he would not normally be able to earn top secret clearance for the usual rejection reasons of ego, sexual impropriety, and financial liabilities. He also, after mismanaging sensitive documents, refused to return them and obstructed justice. This alone is very worrisome.
8. Trump is not a centrist. He is not a liberal (despite being registered as and donating to liberals including Harris in 2011). He is not a conservative (despite forcing the Republican party to follow him). He is, by almost every record over sixty years, a self-interested opportunitist willing to cheat the system and become as politically radical as it is advantageous to him. He cheats the system, paying less on his taxes than his employees, failing to release his taxes and countless other norms for governors, and he does so (not because everything about our social system is bad, and he’s the clever exception) — he does so for hiimself. He cheats for himself. He does not represent, to put it gently, the best public interest of the US. This is as obvious as it is not virtuous.
9. Trump is surely not an institutional or values conservative. Institutionally, conservative means to limit the state by following checks and balances, not corrupting the state by avoiding checks and balances. Unsustainable radicals are against governance itself and Trump is a self-styled anti-government candidate. (Harris is by comparison the clear institutionally conservative choice.) If the rule of law is a conservative value, Trump is a convict treading water in a turbulent white water of legal cases against him. If conservative values honor families, he cages children, abuses and sleeps around with women, and insult the families of veterans. If Christianity includes conservative values, he has mobilized those values, under the banner of Christian nationalism, into a priestcraft in which a billionaire sells overpriced Bibles while celebrating a vision of our nation with no room for grace, difference, and care. If Christian ethics seeks that which is good, MAGA promises only Greek excellence — “be best” and “make America great again” — while delivering something else entirely.
10. Trump, despite his claims otherwise, does not represent the interests of the working class, since he inherited millions that, had he just invested (and done no business), he would have the same fortune he probably has today. A self-proclaimed billionaire with a golden toilet, his name emblazoned on buildings, trailing a long line of broken labor contracts. With a long line of bankruptcies, distrusting former associates, and failed projects, his business record is at best questionable and his public service record is about one tenth that of his opponents (who are twenty years younger than he is). This is not what sustainable leadership looks like.
11. Trump, despite his claims otherwise, cannot represent well the military or public service, since he dodged the draft himself as a young man based on fabricated medical excuses, has attacked his opponents for their military suffering (including fellow Republican John McCain, whose palm bearers included Joe Biden), and has belittled purple heart families. Almost no high-level US military officials that supported his first administration supports him now. This is not the choice of a commander in chief.
12. Trump does not enjoy the trust of those who know him the best. The most serious and sober officials in Trump’s first administration are now against him — or in jail. Those most likely to fill out a second Trump administration are not serious professionals but are populated by a populist LinkedIn for conservatives associated with Project 2025. This is not the pathway to a sustainable second term.
13. Trump backpedaled during the COVID-19 pandemic, advancing silly if not dangerous ideas, and was slow to duly coordinate and distribute resources for a pandemic whose complications sped the deaths of over one million Americas. He politicized public health, its leadership, and its best practices. He has never publicly expressed the burden of a leader’s grief — instead he regularly fans the burden of others’ grievance. In his lack of vigilance and underwhelming reactions, he made it harder for the US public to stay safe and healthy.
14. Trump, despite his claims otherwise, would put America alone, not first, in terms of foreign policy. He admires and is admired by autocrats (North Korea, Russia, Syria, Hungary, Alex Jones, etc.) and almost all US allies worldwide distrust him — and thus his reputation alone makes him unfit to lead the US on the global stage. He threatens to withdraw from NATO, which would destabilize the postwar consensus, isolate countless allies, and put America alone, not first — a move worse than but presaged by Brexit and its anti-immigrant rhetoric and now street violence. He instituted economically damaging and politically convenient tariffs against China (a classically democratic policy), which Biden continues: economists agree that these policies hurt the American manufacturer and worker more than they help. Despite promising to end the war in Afghanistan, he now bitterly attacks Biden for having born the consequences of Biden’s bungled and mismanaged withdrawal without acknowledging the trillions in taxes spent and nearly two hundred thousands of lives lost in that now concluded twenty-year lose-lose situation. Foreign policy for the leader of the free world requires making, and then bearing, endless lose-lose choices — an aptitude wholly foreign to narcissists.
15. Trump pressured Ukrainian President Zelenskyy to dig up dirt on a political opponent, urged a foreign country to attack our democracy, gave classified information to a Russian official. While Russia’s fratricidal invasion of Ukraine appears to be leading to a bloody, entrenched stalemate thanks to Western support, Trump promises to end US support of Ukraine’s security (which costs less than 4% of the US annual defense budget). Withdrawing support for Ukraine would let Putin’s forces seize more of Ukraine, kill more citizens and (forced) soldiers on both sides, and speed the cycle of bloodshed typifying all ethnonationalisms. (Putin’s Russia imagines itself as heir of Rus, with ancient origins in Kyiv, while Ukrainian will fight until one of their anthem lines — “Ukraiina shche ne vmerla,” or Ukraine is not dead yet — is exhausted.) A Russia-dependent Ukraine would topple an independent nation of 30 million people, establish Russia as geopolitical superpower, and permanently destabilize not just the currently small autonomous corners of Ukraine (the DPR and LPR) but a vast crossroad at the center of Europe, the Middle East, and Eurasia, stretching (by comparison) from Missouri to the Atlantic Ocean. None of this is good for the US, Eurasia, Europe, the Taiwan Strait, our allies, and the world.
16. Trump does not just bend the truth like most politicians. He lies regularly, exaggerates almost continuously, and uses language that cannot be checked by reality (technically, BS). For example, even though immigration to the US peaked in 2007 and has been net declining since then, he recently claimed at a rally that if he doesn’t win, about one in seven people in the US — or “40 to 50 million” — will be immigrants criminally rushing across the border. He’s wrong. He’s poorly intentioned. If he believes his own words, he’s a fool; if he doesn’t, he’s a cynic. Either way, he does not represent the sober minds and full hearts that we should want our children, our allies, and one another to have to bear from our highest office.
17. Trump’s character is remarkably ill suited for governance. He does not build coalitions with opponents, he does not build and earn trust across difference, he does not earn respect for his competence (even as he demands loyalty from yes-men), he does not read a lot or know much about the specifics of the rest of the world, he does not have the usual guardrails for avoiding foolishness and cynicism, he does not command the details and complexities necessary for prudent governance and sustainable worldviews. He can be entertaining, but he is not inspiring or interesting. His decades spent in real estate, on TV, and on golf courses grant little expertise relevant to the Oval office. Few, if any, major Presidential candidates in modern history have as little public service as he does — and he is a former President.
18. If you are that rare Trump policy supporter (political style number seven above), Trump is not the only way to get relatively conservative economic policy. The centrist Democratic establishment, checked by a fractious congress, is sure to provide enough business as usual to mitigate against the serious risks a second Trump administration (or any radical position) poses to global markets. The serious Trump policy supporter will no doubt have legitimate concerns on the margins of this point, but anyone to the right of Sanders (including Sanders) will see the bet: given the baseline economic centrism of the US state as a whole, the anti-Trump vote is in fact the institutionally conservative one.
19. Trump is old, old, old. He thinks repeating a few words in order and passing a couple baseline intelligence tests are brags. It’s more than a bit pathetic. In the 30 years since I was in middle school, I have lived under US Presidents born between 1942 and 1946 with only one exception (Obama was born in 1961; Biden in 1942, and Trump, like Clinton and W. Bush, were born in 1946). It’s time for another demographic to have a turn.
There may be other serious negatives — and I cannot say that none of them rise to the level of yellow alert or higher. I can only report that, after 19 negatives, my thumbs tire — and I too find myself exhausted by the last nine years of necessary negative partisanship. These nineteen negatives spring to mind without notes. No doubt there are others: feel free to improve!
Cautions: I offer this local negative analysis against Trump fully acknowledging that Trump is himself not the main problem — he is the symbolic figurehead, the symptom, and the amplifier of larger ongoing struggles with populist ethnonationalism in the US and elsewhere. These international and intranational problems will remain after Trump, but voters at least can act now to make the world a bit better by exercising what limited agency we have to get out the vote — and slow and stop it.
The Eighth Political Style, The Twentieth Negative
There’s also the twentieth negative — a negative so bad it beggars belief and should almost be left unmentioned. Namely, there is a very rare Trump supporter who supports Trump precisely because they want to spite the system he represents: that is, they vote for him because they see that he is a bad actor. These rare folks apparently believe that they will vote for him because, since he is the worst bet (which sometimes appears the best bet given the fourth corrective political style above), he will either speed the Christian rapture or the revolution that ends capitalism. (One can justify any present with a future extreme enough.)
To this twentieth (extremist) objection, and the eighth (radical) political style of the Trump supporter, I would ask, I get you, I feel your system pain, and can we genuinely believe, given the twisted state of our economy and Christianity today (the premise of our position here), that any one of us are prepared to make the bet that things will be better after the revolution? Doesn’t the world become better — more like Zion, more like a commune — by building it to be that way step by step, and not by overturning everything, including what works? In short, I object to the rare apocalyptic-accelerationist support for Trump as unsustainably cynical, structurally immoral about the lives and interests of others, and poor readers of the consequences of revolutions and religions. They forget that, in balance of revolutionary history, things usually get worse after they get worse.
Election seasons are, despite analyses like these, seasons for seasoned hope and guarded opportunity to make the world a bit less worse, to make the more probable bet, and to walk together along the more sane, self-checking pathway forward. I also say all this fully aware that, after our only task is to get out the vote, donate, volunteer, and then vote up and down the ballot carefully, with evidence, hesitation, and with a balance of policy concerns — that after all that, comes the hard work of living, reunifying, and building better lives together again.
So, until there’s ballot reform, we must vote against the worst of the two candidates by voting for the less bad candidate who will beat the worse candidate. Our obligation, after the election, is then to check the candidate we vote for. Let’s get to it!
Trump is demonstrably the worse candidate by the evidence.
Vote for Harris
