THAT’S JOHN
What America’s most peculiar senator teaches us about ourselves
During the 2022 primary for U. S. Senate, I worked with John Fetterman’s campaign to arrange an interview for a column, which ultimately contrasted Mr. Fetterman as the complicated “man in black” with Conor Lamb as the too-perfect “man in blue.” In my conversations with Mr. Fetterman’s team, I lauded the campaign’s witty Twitter account — some light flattery perhaps, but honest praise nonetheless.
I remember the response to this day, both for the words themselves and the reverence with which they were spoken: “That’s John. That’s all John.”
Now, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck — a cliche that would probably earn me a rebuke from Mr. Fetterman, respecter of rural Pennsylvania. I know that campaign staffers habitually defer to their bosses, and that the bosses are never as authentic as they seem. But this felt different, and I heard it consistently throughout the campaign, both before and after his stroke.
“That’s John.”
Occam’s razor
Like many political observers, I’ve been asking myself what to make of Mr. Fetterman’s apparent pivot away from the left. But the simplest explanation — one that accords with the actual behavior of his Senate campaign — is that he was never a doctrinaire progressive to begin with, at least as that word has come to be defined in 2024. Rather, left-wing Democrats, encouraged by his uncompromising rhetoric on issues such as abortion, LGBTQ rights and above all marijuana legalization, saw him as a promising vessel for their own more extravagant hopes and dreams.
Progressives convinced themselves that candidate Fetterman’s moderate approach to issues like fracking, gun control and, yes, immigration were mere compromises with the commonwealth’s benighted electorate. But it was always wishful thinking to believe the man in black, who made his name as a small-town mayor, was really an ideologue. While progressives on social media are shrieking about having been duped by Mr. Fetterman, they must know on some level that they duped themselves.
And so now Mr. Fetterman’s erstwhile allies are trading in the same insinuations about his health and competence and personal life that they deplored when they came from the right. But this week’s Quinnipiac poll of the commonwealth shows Mr. Fetterman with 76% approval and only 7% disapproval among Democrats, and the approval of members of both parties for his recent remarks on
Israel and immigration.
Meanwhile, some on the right think they have a new ally, or at least a new Joe Manchin, in the Senate. But no one is grappling with the most likely possibility: That’s just John.
Everyday eclecticism
I came to understand, only after Mr. Fetterman defeated Mehmet Oz two Novembers ago, that the man in black’s stroke didn’t hurt his chances because it enhanced his relatability. In fact, it’s always been his peculiarity, whether his size or attire or manner of speech, that made him most normal. And his peculiar collection of opinions and passions only enhances that.
The fact is, despite the ongoing process of polarization and sorting into partisan media silos, most regular people don’t slavishly follow an ideological script. Further, the average “moderate” voter doesn’t have moderate views, but is ideologically eclectic: a little of this, a little of that. Pro-lifers who believe in a robust welfare state. Trans rights champions who favor a muscular foreign policy. Immigration skeptics who want to wind down the carceral state.
Marijuana legalization zealots who think Israel deserves a free hand to neutralize Hamas.
Purification purges among vocal activists — especially on social media — tend to root these people out, but most everyday folks are neither activists nor members of online political cliques. Most voters are, well, normal people. And normal people, because they generally don’t think or care about prevailing ideological dogmas, are complicated and hard to categorize politically. Their views come from some combination of experience and tradition and intuition and the YouTube algorithm, not a party platform or manifesto.
For example, a study from the 2016 election used survey results to map Trump and Clinton voters on two leftright axes: economic views and social/ identity views. Most people in the commentator class assume the great untapped market for “moderation” in American politics is the “libertarian” quadrant: economically right, socially left. And in the rare event of bipartisan legislative compromises, this tends to be where they land.
That may be the sweet spot in board rooms and among ambitious undergraduates, but in real life it’s exactly wrong. It’s the opposite quadrant — people who are anxious about accelerating social change and suspicious of strict free-market economic solutions — where almost all the swing voters live, and where Mr. Trump trounced Ms. Clinton. The “libertarian” quadrant, while it gets all the attention, is nearly empty.
Someone like John
In other words, what party leaders and activists and establishment media consider “consistent” political views simply doesn’t register with many, if not most, average people. And so while internet leftists squeal about Mr. Fetterman’s “betrayal,” most people see his eclectic views and see — once again — someone like themselves.
It’s probably too much to hope that politicians from either party will watch Mr. Fetterman and be encouraged to blaze their own unusual ideological trails (though I’d keep an eye on Ohio’s Sen. J.D. Vance). Most will assume the man in black is a unique case: After all, just look at him.
But I’m all but certain the next politician to really capture an enduring majority of Americans, like Roosevelt or Reagan, won’t be a doctrinaire liberal or conservative or progressive or whatever. It’ll be someone whose views seem inconsistent, but will actually redefine what counts as consistent. It’ll be someone who’s unafraid to challenge the loudest voices in the room, and in so doing expose how few and weak they really are. It’ll be someone who embodies this moment in history, and who can promise and deliver an end to partisan bickering.
It’ll be someone who feels dangerous, at least to some. It might be someone who is dangerous. But it’ll definitely be someone like John.