What? You Aren’t Gonna Watch the Debate?
I was hanging with a bunch of guys—hanging on zoom, in the contemporary fashion—the other night. This was a group of very politically alert guys, all younger than I am. And suddenly I realized we hadn’t discussed the elephant on the calendar.
Thursday night the two serious candidates in what is arguably the most important U.S. election in history—with the possible exception of the previous one or the one before that or Lincoln versus Douglas—will be debating.
“Hey, we all have some important TV to watch Thursday night,” I said, or something to that effect, to open a conversation about Biden’s prospects. Instead, it opened a very different conversation
“I don’t know if I could stomach it,” one member of this group of friends said.
“You’re not going to watch a presidential debate?” I responded, with considerable surprise.
“I can’t stand watching that guy,” another reported.
“But doesn’t he win if he chases people like us away from the political process?
“I’ll still vote,” he responded.
“Too depressing,” the friend who had been first to speak added. “Besides these things usually don’t end up making any difference.”
Another friend then noted that he would probably end up watching but isn’t looking forward to it.
And then the guy who may be a touch further to the left than the rest of us (whatever that currently means) and who definitely is more technologically sophisticated spoke: “I don’t want to platform that guy. There are all these algorithms out there trying to gauge what I am interested in, and I don’t want to indicate in any way that I want to see that man on my computer, my phone or my TV. I refuse to watch him at all, ever.”
I was nonplussed.
I don’t believe I have missed a presidential debate since the first one—also featuring an unpleasant, though probably not quite as dangerous, character—was televised in 1960. I observe. I root. I analyze.
I watch the shows afterwards where they evaluate the performances. I read everything I can find on the subject. I discuss what happened, endlessly, with anyone who will engage with me.
It’s not as if, as it might be during the primaries, I need to watch to determine whom to vote for.
But a presidential debate is among the more important public events of my lifetime.
It’s drama.
It’s politics.
It’s my country and a damn important country at that.
I said some of that. Then one of the other guys spoke up: “Yeah, I’ll read about it. I’ll find out what happened. But I just can’t watch that guy lie and lie and lie.”
Can I understand that sentiment and what these guys are saying? I guess, I can. Certainly, their particular eyeballs are not necessary for the political process to proceed or for Biden to succeed. Certainly, mine also aren’t.
But I sure am going to be watching Thursday evening—as a citizen, as a person who wants to understand the culture, as a student of history.
update
Yup, I sure did watch the debate that Thursday evening, with a couple of not-younger friends. And, yup, the debate sure did make history—not for Trump’s compulsive lying. He’d done the same four and eight years earlier, though the lies seemed to arrive even faster this time. Alas, it was President Biden’s apparently age-induced lack of verbal fluidity that proved unprecedented.
My friends did leave the room for extended periods on a couple of occasions, complaining it was too painful to watch. I, as usual, watched every minute: cheered, actually, by the possibility that Biden’s difficulties might soon lead to him being replaced by a younger person—not because such a younger person would be better at governing, but because a younger candidate might better present the case against Trump.