The 2024 U.S. Presidential Race: A Tale of Suboptimal Candidates and a Nation’s Uncertain Future
As the United States stumbles toward another election, the race is defined not by bold ideas or inspiring leadership, but by disillusionment, political theatrics, and a stark ideological divide.
The 2024 race for the White House feels like a long sigh of frustration rather than a typical political contest. Many Americans feel stuck choosing between two unsatisfactory options, both of which seem like the lesser of two evils. It’s a reality check on the state of U.S. politics: murky, contentious, and, at times, downright bizarre.
The late withdrawal of President Joe Biden—who by mid-2023 appeared to be straining against his own limitations—sparked a whirlwind of speculation and strategy shifts within the Democratic Party. His departure left Vice President Kamala Harris at the helm, a figure who, despite years in one of the most visible roles in politics, has struggled to define her place and purpose in the national spotlight. The result is a contest that, for many, feels like it’s missing something crucial: clear purpose, a genuine vision, and candidates who inspire belief rather than resignation.
If there’s one defining characteristic of the 2024 campaign, it’s the almost complete absence of meaningful policy debate. Instead, voters are inundated with personal jabs, rehearsed zingers, and oversimplified narratives that insult the complexity of the country’s issues. From snippets of rallies to televised debates, it’s clear that campaigns have abandoned nuanced discussions of policy in favour of targeting personalities. This shift speaks to a more troubling trend in American politics: the emphasis on image over ideas, clichés over creativity.
Both candidates have failed to present coherent platforms that address America’s most pressing issues—climate change, healthcare, inflation, or the crumbling social infrastructure that many Americans rely on. Instead, campaign strategies seem almost exclusively focused on tearing down the opponent rather than lifting up the nation.
Kamala Harris has had a challenging campaign season, to put it mildly. Thrust into the spotlight after Biden’s departure, she’s faced intense scrutiny, not least because her tenure as Vice President has been, in many respects, unremarkable. She has struggled to make a lasting impact on national policy or to rally a solid base of support. Her campaign has largely consisted of attempts to highlight her “untapped potential”—an approach that has often backfired, as it implicitly suggests her achievements so far have been lacklustre.
What’s more, her frequent shifts in stance on key issues have not helped to endear her to the electorate. Voters want consistency, conviction, and clarity, none of which Harris has convincingly delivered. While she may have inherited Biden’s backing from core Democratic power players, the support seems motivated more by a shared aversion to Trump than by genuine enthusiasm for her as a leader.
Donald Trump’s return to the campaign trail is different this time around. Gone is the whirlwind of 2016, the unconventional, magnetic disruptor who electrified rallies with raw energy and a taste for theatrics. Instead, Trump has re-emerged with the same old grievances but lacking the spark that once set him apart. His unbridled self-confidence now veers into the realm of oppressive narcissism. The once-compelling mix of bravado and humor has been replaced with bitterness, as though even he is tired of hearing himself.
Expectations that Trump might soften with age, perhaps adopt a more statesmanlike approach, have been dashed. Instead, he’s doubled down on the strategies that once worked but now feel outdated. And yet, he has the complete and unwavering support of his party, which, over the past eight years, has come to rally behind him not merely as a leader, but as a symbol of Republican identity.
While neither candidate may be particularly appealing on their own merits, major political forces have coalesced around them for one reason: fear of the other side. Harris’s campaign has attracted support from the Democratic establishment, not necessarily out of belief in her potential, but out of fear of a Trump resurgence. Meanwhile, Trump’s backing is fueled by a fierce commitment to countering what many Republicans perceive as a liberal agenda threatening American values.
This election is shaping up as a referendum not on the candidates themselves but on the broader ideologies they represent. Harris embodies a Democratic legacy of progressive, often idealistic, goals, one that traces back to the post-Cold War vision of America as a “city upon a hill”—a global beacon of democracy and social progress. Trump, on the other hand, symbolizes a more isolationist, protectionist stance, one that prioritizes domestic stability over global engagement. These opposing worldviews reflect not just the candidates’ platforms, but a fundamental divide within American society.
To understand today’s political landscape, it helps to revisit the ideological foundations laid in the late 20th century. The end of the Cold War marked a turning point for the Democratic Party, which seized upon America’s newfound global dominance as an opportunity to expand its influence, not just abroad but also within its own borders. The ambition was monumental: to mold America into a modern, socially progressive powerhouse. This vision continues to resonate among Democrats, particularly among progressives who see themselves as catalysts for radical change.
The Republican journey over the same period has been more complex. After playing a pivotal role in the fall of Soviet communism, the GOP initially embraced a foreign policy of expansion, heavily influenced by neoconservative ideals. However, this phase was short-lived, with many Republicans quickly recoiling from the burdens of global intervention. Today, Trump’s “America First” rhetoric, which calls for prioritizing national interests over international ones, has reshaped the Republican Party into a bastion of nationalism and self-reliance—a counterpoint to the Democrats’ globalist ambitions.
What we’re left with, ultimately, is a simplified version of America’s choice: “liberal-globalists” versus “national-patriots.” This binary is reductive, to be sure, but it captures the basic dilemma confronting American voters. The choice isn’t a straightforward fork in the road but rather a collision of ideologies that echo through a deeply divided society.
This isn’t a clear-cut decision that will forever alter the country’s trajectory. America’s vastness and complexity mean that there will be no neat, linear path forward, regardless of who wins. Nevertheless, the ideological divide is stark, and the stakes are high, particularly as both parties use every available means—including advanced digital manipulation and highly targeted social campaigns—to sway public opinion.
Two centuries ago, Alexis de Tocqueville described American democracy as a theatrical affair, vulnerable to the influence of targeted messaging and mass manipulation. Today, those words ring truer than ever. In the age of social media and nonstop news cycles, political discourse is dominated by calculated campaigns that shape, filter, and distort reality to fit specific agendas. Americans are caught in a web of political marketing, where the lines between fact and fiction blur.
This manipulation has only intensified as powerful interest groups, with access to sophisticated tools for influencing public perception, have taken the reins of the nation’s discourse. The same mechanisms that drive capitalism—branding, relentless advertising, and polished marketing—now define political campaigns, transforming elections into theatrical performances rather than authentic democratic exchanges.
The 2024 election isn’t about charismatic leaders or transformative ideas. It’s about choosing which version of America will dominate for the next four years: an America that champions progressive, often interventionist ideals at home and abroad, or one that turns inward, focusing on its own needs and safeguarding its traditions. What’s clear is that this ideological tug-of-war will persist long after the ballots are counted, as each side grapples with its vision for the nation.
In a world where politics has become as much about spectacle as substance, the 2024 U.S. presidential race may very well be a turning point—not because it offers the country a bold new path, but because it reveals just how uncertain that path has become. This election, in all its convoluted theatrics and carefully staged moments, might be less a battle for the White House than a reckoning with what America aspires to be.