Democratic Men Are Stepping Up for a Woman President
Originally published by Karrin Vasby Anderson for The Conversation
Women have been running for president of the United States since 1872, and for almost that long people have been asking what women need to do in order to break what Hillary Clinton has called the “highest, hardest glass ceiling” left in American culture.
Almost no one has asked what men need to do in order to remedy the problem that the job has been off-limits to more than 50% of the talent pool since … forever.
At the 2024 Democratic National Convention, that changed. Democratic men made choices that were entirely new, or exceedingly rare, in support of a woman presidential candidate and in service to the nation. It was unprecedented.
As a communication scholar who studies gender and political leadership, I’ve argued that the biggest impediment to electing a woman as president is not a dearth of qualified woman candidates but a collective inability to recognize them as such. The fault is not in the candidates but in American culture.
As it turns out, men in politics were also to blame.
When faced with competitive women as presidential candidates, many men historically have leveraged their power and privilege in ways that undercut women’s candidacies. But the Democratic convention was different.
For the first time in history, men in a major political party offered unified support for a woman candidate. They refrained from strategically deploying the stereotype that strong women are not likable, as Barack Obama did with Hillary Clinton in the 2008 Democratic primaries.
They accepted the party’s overwhelming support for a woman candidate, instead of insisting on being entitled to superdelegates, as Bernie Sanders did in 2016.
And they put their career on hold to support their spouse’s candidacy instead of undercutting it by offering support to primary campaign challengers, as Bob Dole did when Elizabeth Dole sought the Republican Party’s nomination in 2000.
‘Relinquishing male power’
Rhetorical choices reveal the underlying motivations of individuals and groups. The messaging of Democratic men at the 2024 convention signaled that their party was finally ready to do something that no major party has ever done. They were not only nominating a woman candidate but relinquishing male power and privilege.
Biden surprised everyone when he pulled out of the race in response to pressure from flagging poll results, skeptical donors and party leaders, and nervous down-ballot candidates. Any resentment he may have felt, however, did not turn into pique or pettiness at the convention.
When the crowd chanted, “Thank you, Joe,” he instructed, “Thank you, Kamala, too,” and promised to be “the best volunteer the Harris and Walz camp have ever seen.” He didn’t just give up his candidacy. He ceded his authority – to the people and the party, but also to Harris, specifically.
Although Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg angled to be Harris’ running mate and may still harbor his own presidential aspirations, he did not use his convention speaking slot to audition for the 2028 campaign. Instead, he performed the role that historically has been reserved for women at political conventions: pitching the party’s message via the perspective of a parent whose primary concern is “kitchen table” politics, issues that affect children and families most directly.
