DV Journal

(For an alternate point of view, see: “Counterpoint: The Party’s Over for Political Conventions”)

The consensus that conventions are an anachronism, a leftover historical relic that no longer matters, is credible, increasingly widespread — and wrong.

Conventions don’t decide the nominee anymore, but they can be decisive or influential in shaping national politics.

First, conventions can shape or change the trajectory of a presidential race. With Al Gore’s acceptance speech in 2000, he gained 13 to 18 points in the polls, depending on which surveys you believed. By the Saturday after the speech, Gore, who had been double digits behind, was suddenly in the lead. (And I continue to insist that Gore was elected, just not inaugurated, due to the fiat of a Supreme Court that acted like a partisan ward committee.)

Similarly, four years later, George W. Bush turned his September convention in New York City, just dozens of blocks from Ground Zero, into a vehicle to reinforce vividly his central — indeed, almost his only — message: in the face of a terrorist threat, he was the safest choice to protect America.

Sometimes, convention moves that look as if they could supercharge a campaign fizzle out afterward. John McCain’s 2008 Hail Mary pass — picking the previously unknown Sarah Palin as his running mate — is a case in point.

She wowed the delegates and the country in her acceptance address, and McCain took the lead over Barack Obama in polls. However, Palin soon became a liability, a punchline that cast doubt on McCain’s judgment when she spectacularly fumbled basic questions in interview after interview.

And the fumble can occur at the convention. For example, Mitt Romney’s invitation to Clint Eastwood to speak at the 2012 GOP convention. Eastwood castigated an empty chair standing in for Obama, overshadowing Romney’s remarks that night.

Two decades earlier, Pat Buchanan’s sulfurous screed on social issues overwhelmed Ronald Reagan’s last appearance at a Republican convention and polluted the first George Bush’s plan to use his week in the sun to reach out and broaden support for his re-election. The look on Barbara Bush’s face as Buchanan thundered his jeremiad was painful — and priceless.

Second, a convention can see a new star emerge or recast the dimensions of the next race. It happened in 1956 when a little-known senator from Massachusetts spoke three times to the Democratic conclave and almost won an open contest for the vice-presidential nomination. Had John F. Kennedy not lost at the end of the roll call, his Catholicism would have been partly blamed for the ticket’s landslide defeat. Instead, he then took a polling lead among Democrats that held until 1960.

History repeated itself with Obama’s stunning keynote at the 2004 convention. He didn’t lead Hillary Clinton heading into the next presidential campaign, but he had emerged as her most likely rival.

Even well-known leaders can be boosted by a convention in which they do not prevail. Ronald Reagan’s powerful remarks in 1976, unusually delivered at Gerald Ford’s invitation after his acceptance speech, positioned Reagan as the front-runner for the 1980 nomination. Ted Kennedy’s ringing affirmation of Democratic values and the worth of his campaign after he was defeated by Jimmy Carter in 1980 had the same effect among Democrats, although he declined to run again.

Third, a convention can signal or speed up major transformations in public policy or national life. Reagan, in 1980, put supply-side cuts at the center of Republican orthodoxy that holds to this day. Kennedy’s successful insistence on a gay rights plank in the 1980 Democratic platform, the first in history in either party, was seen by many as a reach too far; today, that cause is a consensus among Democrats and a majority of Americans. Walter Mondale’s choice of Geraldine Ferraro as his running mate was another first. By 2020, three women were running for president. One of them became vice president and soon may be elected to the highest office in the land.

Conventions are fundamentally about the message. This year, after the assassination attempt on Donald Trump, there was supposed to be a new, “kindler and gentler” Trump who would premier at the GOP convention. Instead, with the selection of JD Vance and Trump’s abrupt decision to abandon the teleprompter during his acceptance speech, he doubled down on the darkness of anger and grievance.

Now, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz will seek to use their convention as a joyous defense of freedom and democracy and a hopeful summons to a new future. In November, we will learn which message persuaded more Americans — and which convention mattered more.

(For an alternate point of view see: “Point: Political Conventions Still Matter”)

Talk about unintended consequences. Democrats may not know it, but they may have just sounded the death knell for national political conventions.

When Vice President Kamala Harris received her party’s presidential nomination via a “virtual roll call” on August 6 — 13 days before the Democratic National Convention was scheduled to begin — it exposed the needlessness of the elaborate and grossly expensive quadrennial tradition.

There’s just no escaping reality any longer. The emperor has no clothes. The event is now as outdated as powdered wigs and the town crier.

When the first national political convention was held in the United States, it served a need. Some 155 delegates from 18 of the then-24 states met in a large saloon in Baltimore on Dec. 13, 1831, and unanimously made Henry Clay the National Republican presidential candidate in the following year’s contest. (Spoiler alert: He lost.) Though the candidate was defeated, a winning tradition had been born.

For more than a century, a party’s nominee was chosen at the convention. Highly important but often shunted off second-fiddle status was the adoption of the platform during that gathering. It’s a statement of what the party stands for and what it intends to do in office.

Over time, things changed. Though state presidential primaries had been held since the early 1900s, they were often little more than political beauty contests with little practical effect.

However, they came into their own in 1960 when John F. Kennedy used the primary route to demonstrate to the city bosses who controlled the Democratic Party machinery at the time that his Catholicism was not an obstacle to winning in November.

Then, a populist reform wave in the early 1970s shifted power from the smoke-filled rooms of convention lore to the primary and caucus system. When little-known former Georgia Gov. Jimmy Carter used it as a path to emerge out of nowhere and secure the Democratic nomination in 1976, the paradigm was shifted once and for all. Whoever won enough pledged delegates via those early contests would clinch the nomination.

From then on, conventions became little more than coronation ceremonies, ratifying the decision voters had made earlier at the primary polls.

Another trend began emerging. Presidential nominees on both sides started ignoring their party’s platform. Though that document may have said X, if the candidate believed Y, he just shrugged and went on his merry way down the campaign trail. Party platforms, once lengthy detailed documents, shrank into political Happy Meals. Soon, they became irrelevant to politicians, pundits and the public.

The final flicker of suspense was snuffed out once nominees began announcing their running mate days and sometimes weeks before the convention started. (Trump’s selection of JD Vance as the GOP convention opened in July is a rare exception.)

With the last bit of drama snatched away, what’s left? A four-day infomercial where a mélange of Washington luminaries, Hollywood types, and just plain folks are herded on and off the stage in a mashup resembling a political version of “America’s Got Talent.”

However, there is the balloon drop. Democrats and Republicans alike stubbornly cling to that tradition. They want to see their ticket appear together, arms hoisted overheard in unity, waving with their families at their side as a cascade of colored balloons slowly descends.

So, what’s the price tag for this orgy of partisan excess? Open Secrets estimates it took $65.7 million to throw the GOP’s big bash in Milwaukee last month. When all the bills are tallied, the larger Democratic pow-wow in the more expensive Chicago could likely be even higher.

And what does all that money get? A few seconds of balloons dropping on network TV.

Here’s a thought. Why not pull the plug on this time and money waster? Focus on a single National Campaign Kickoff Day to launch the official start of the fall campaign instead. Hold it just after Labor Day when summer vacations are over, the kiddies are back in school, and Americans are finally getting serious about the election. It could even be a multi-city event with the nominee in one place, the running mate in another, and various other big-name worthies hosting high-profile events in crucial swing states.

You could throw National Campaign Kickoff Day for a fraction of the cost of a weeklong convention. The tens of millions of dollars saved could be used instead for voter registration drives, advertising and all-important GOTV (get out the vote) efforts on Election Day. In short, these are the things that can help determine which candidate wins.

That would be a far more responsible way to use party resources. And, of course, there could still be balloons, too. You gotta have balloons.