Vice-presidential debates are usually meaningless, but Tuesday’s might be different

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Unacknowledged but undeniable: American vice-presidential debates are meaningless.

Until Tuesday, maybe.

The confrontation between Republican Senator J.D. Vance of Ohio and Democratic Governor Tim Walz of Minnesota will be the 12th vice-presidential debate in American history. Most of them have been forgotten, often blurring into the ether minutes after they have concluded. Who today remembers anything about the 1996 clash between Al Gore and Jack Kemp? Is anyone this week watching reruns of the 2016 debate between Tim Kaine and Mike Pence?

This one might be different.

There are several reasons why:

— Mr. Vance, a magnet for media attention, has been an unusually controversial candidate for an office so insignificant that the giant 19th-century political figure Daniel Webster once turned down the vice-presidential nomination because “I do not propose to be buried until I am dead.” Mr. Vance has had to defend remarks dismissing “childless cat ladies”; was pilloried for resurfaced comments about childless teachers who, he said, were “trying to brainwash the minds of our children”; and was quoted as saying that parents should get more votes than people without children because “if you don’t have as much of an investment in the future of this country, maybe you shouldn’t get nearly the same voice.”

— Mr. Vance and Mr. Walz are so different in temperament that the 90-minute session in a CBS studio has the quality of a classic Mars-versus-Venus confrontation, with the combative Republican candidate and the down-home Democratic candidate providing the kind of contrast that could make for good television, if not for substantive exchanges.

— The two previous presidential debates this year have been unusually significant, perhaps the most important since the first 1960 debate between senator John F. Kennedy (who seemed vivid, polished and confident) and vice-president Richard Nixon (who faded into the studio background and appeared tentative and uneasy). The June clash between Donald Trump and Joe Biden effectively ended the President’s re-election campaign and in essence swept Kamala Harris into the Democratic presidential nomination. The September clash between the Vice-President and Mr. Trump provided Ms. Harris with a clear victory that added to her credibility as a candidate for the White House and provided a substantial fundraising boost.

— The presidential race is achingly close, and a slight advantage somewhere – anywhere, in any forum, maybe even this week’s debate – could tip the contest between Mr. Trump and Ms. Harris, herself a principal in the 2020 vice-presidential debate, which was memorable only for the presence of a persistent large black fly on the white hair of vice-president Mike Pence.

Earlier vice-presidential debates have been spectacles without significance.

Senator Bob Dole of Kansas did not do the 1976 Republican ticket headed by president Gerald Ford any good by referring to “Democrat wars” – American political figures generally do not blame wars on rival political parties – but the Ford-Dole ticket was doomed months earlier by Mr. Ford’s pardon of Mr. Nixon for his Watergate crimes and by the persistence of inflation. Vice-admiral James Stockdale, who was tortured in a Vietnamese prison and had 26 combat medals during 37 years of Navy service, was unfairly ridiculed for being clueless by opening his remarks in the 1992 debate by saying, “Who am I? Why am I here?” but the ticket he shared with entrepreneur Ross Perot was not a threat to win that election even though it took 19 per cent of the vote.

The most memorable moment in vice-presidential debates was in 1988 – and it made no difference.

It came after senator Dan Quayle of Indiana, then 41, was asked whether he considered himself qualified for high national office. Against the advice of his aides, he answered, “I have as much experience in the Congress as Jack Kennedy did when he sought the presidency.”

Senator Lloyd Bentsen of Texas, the Democratic vice-presidential nominee, was ready – and he delivered perhaps the greatest riposte in American debate history. “Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy,” he said to a stunned Mr. Quayle. “I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy.”

Mr. Bentsen was the clear winner in that debate. His ticket, headed by governor Michael Dukakis of Massachusetts, was a clear loser in the general election.

There were no vice-presidential debates until 1976, and the 1980 event was cancelled.

It is intriguing to imagine a debate in 1960 between senator Lyndon B. Johnson of Texas, who was Mr. Kennedy’s running mate, and ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge, who was Mr. Nixon’s running mate. Mr. Johnson’s legacy was spoiled by his prosecution of the Vietnam War. For nearly two years of his eventual presidency, his ambassador to Saigon was Mr. Lodge.

And who wouldn’t delight in a 1920 debate between governor Calvin Coolidge of Massachusetts, the GOP vice-presidential nominee, and former assistant secretary of the Navy Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the Democratic vice-presidential candidate. Mr. Coolidge, known for being taciturn, became president at the death of Warren G. Harding. Nearly a decade later, Mr. Roosevelt, known for his easy communication style, became president himself.

The advent of vice-presidential debates came as the position, a power centre perhaps only during the two terms of Dick Cheney (2001-2009), grew marginally in prominence, having advanced slightly from the position Thomas Jefferson (vice president 1797-1801) characterized as being “environed here in scenes of constant torment, malice and obliquy, worn down in a station where no effort to render service can avail anything.”

Today’s vice-presidents have regular meetings with the president, large staffs, their own jetliner, and, as 15 of them have proven, they sometimes become president themselves. Vice-presidents now matter, a little. Vice-presidential debates – clashes without consequence – don’t. Until Tuesday, maybe.