…I have a slight hangover. I only had two pints of weak, fizzy, pissy American beer last night, so I think it must be the Presidential debate. We’d set watching it as an assignment for the students, so I was obliged to tune in. But I was also fascinated to see whether it lived up to its “historical”, “pivotal” and “consequential” billing.

It actually started pretty well. For the first 20 minutes, they both seemed to be engaging with some serious policy debates around tariffs, taxation, inflation and the wider economic issues that the “stupid” cliche tells us this and other elections come down to. Harris was talking about “lifting up the middle class”. Trump about the cost of groceries, as though he’d just returned from the weekly shop.

I must admit, at that point, I thought he was on the way to a successful evening. Completely phony thought it is, he seemed to be addressing the everyday cost of living concerns of millions, which remains his best path to victory on 5th November. Then the orange mist descended.

His racist rants may have become familiar, but they are still quite shocking. Apparently having held himself back for as long as he could, Trump unleashed a torrent of vile, unsubstantiated, xenophobia, which he repeated several times during the rest of the debate. He, or his advisors, have clearly decided this is his strongest card. So, “millions of people are pouring into our country” became “they’re dangerous” and ended with the almost comic “they’re eating people’s pets”.

On the other hand, it appears the Harris camp has decided directly confronting Trump’s racism is unwise. She did eventually go there, but it was at the third or fourth time of asking. Mostly, Harris seemed to take refuge in the platitudes of diversity. I’ve just asked a local about the thinking behind this apparent timidity. Seems it’s an effort to avoid the “Sapphire Caricature” of black women as angry and aggressive. That’s a depressing conclusion, but maybe makes realpolitik sense. But I was left with the feeling that Trump had been given a more or less free hit at some of the most reactionary sentiments and I fear they could prove decisive.

I say that partly having met Juan the Newark barber earlier in the day. We had a good, but necessarily brief, chat, while he cut what’s left of my hair. He struck me as a very sensitive, intelligent man, who’s probably had a pretty tough life. At first, we seemed to be in accord. He said he couldn’t understand how a convicted felon can be standing for election. I concurred, adding that Trump is a despicable product of the wealthy power elite. Juan agreed. But a few scissor moves later he said he’d probably vote for him! When I asked why, he referred to the number of people coming into the country and receiving benefits. Juan is African American. He’s also a man and he said he doesn’t want anyone who isn’t to be President.

We parted on friendly terms, but Juan’s views were playing in my mind watching the debate. Although not in Newark (where a Democratic victory is almost certain), it seems to me Harris has to find a way to persuade the other Juans in the country she’s offering them something different than the broken promises of the past. On the strength of last night, I’m not sure she is.

On the whole, the debate was 90 minutes of vacuous insult trading.

My thoughts turned to Mrs. Robinson:

“Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon
Going to the candidates’ debate
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you’ve got to choose
Every way you look at it, you lose.”