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Good morning. It is Saturday, Sept. 7, and no, this God-awful heat wave in L.A. isn’t over yet. Here’s what’s happening in Opinion.
For the first time in his life, Donald Trump will be on TV without being the center of attention. Most people will be watching the person standing next to him. The eagerly awaited (and nearly canceled) presidential debate between him, the twice-impeached ex-commander in chief, and Kamala Harris, the vice president, is the last single event we can count on to influence this deadlocked election before ballots start being counted Nov. 5.
After nine years of MAGA pageantry, this country knows Donald Trump. It knows far less about Harris, even though she has been vice president since 2021 and, before then, served as a U.S. senator from California, the state’s attorney general and the district attorney of San Francisco. She won her first election in 2003, right when Trump was taping the first season of his career-resuscitating TV show, “The Apprentice.”
So in California, we’ve seen Harris debate as a candidate arguing solely on her own behalf (as opposed to defending Joe Biden in the 2020 vice presidential debate or trying to get a word in edgewise in the Democratic primary debates of 2019). One such debate was in 2010 against then-L.A. County Dist. Atty. Steve Cooley, when she was running for California attorney general; another came in 2016 against then-Rep. Loretta Sanchez, an Orange County Democrat, in the race for an open U.S. Senate seat. (For the record, The Times’ editorial board endorsed Harris in 2016, but not in 2010.)
I re-watched both debates this week, looking for clues on what to expect against Trump on Tuesday. Harris’ 2016 U.S. Senate debate involved an opponent who (to put it charitably) didn’t come across as, well, senatorial. Sanchez infamously ended her closing statement with a “dab,” a heads-down, arms-out gesture that all the cool kids were doing at the time. It capped a performance in which moderators had to raise their voices to remind Sanchez she needed to stop speaking (sound familiar?). Harris, who attacked Sanchez over her absence on key House votes and committee hearings, ably put on a poker face as her opponent rambled.
Her 2010 debate with Cooley was different. Though spirited, their exchange stayed focused on the issues of the day and even veered into borderline wonkish, constitutional questions having to do with prosecutorial discretion. The debate resulted in a gaffe that arguably doomed Cooley: He unashamedly said he would collect his public pension while serving as attorney general, to supplement what he called the “absurdly low” attorney general salary of about $150,000. If people remember anything from the debate, it’s that.
And that’s unfortunate, because the debate provided a clear, substantive contrast between the candidates at a pivotal time for criminal justice reform in California. Cooley and Harris exchanged views on three-strikes sentencing, whether to defend possibly unconstitutional ballot initiatives in federal court, enforcing immigration laws and more. Both pointedly highlighted differences where they existed without sounding petty. If I had made my decision based only on that debate, I would have voted for Harris; ultimately, I voted for Cooley, a Republican whose deft management of the sprawling L.A. County D.A.’s office positioned him well to be attorney general.
With Trump on the stage, no one expects a debate like that Tuesday. What you should expect, based on Harris’ past performances in California, is for one of the candidates to exhibit discipline and poise, and to know when to stand back and let her opponent ruin himself.
This could be Kamala Harris’ Achilles’ heel with crucial undecided voters: Her policy proposals on immigration, housing, corporate taxation and inflation either depart from her previous statements on these issues or are unworkable, writes Lanhee J. Chen, a Republican who advised Mitt Romney’s presidential campaign and ran for state controller in 2012.
Californians need electric bill relief. Lawmakers failed to deliver it. Californians pay some of the highest electricity bills in the nation. But that’s not going to change any time soon, the Times editorial board writes: “Months of discussion over a comprehensive package to reduce monthly bills for customers of PG&E, Edison and San Diego Gas and Electric withered into practically nothing by the end of the legislative session last week.”
The list of musicians who have demanded that Trump stop using their songs is incredibly long. ABBA, Adele, even the Village People. Columnist Robin Abcarian counts at least 41 artists who have objected to the former president’s campaign using their music at campaign rallies. Just because the artists complain and threaten to sue, however, doesn’t mean the campaigns must stop using their work — but at least John McCain and Barack Obama were respectful enough to quit playing the music of singers and songwriters who weren’t OK with it.
Take it from a nonbinary professor: Don’t make students state their pronouns on Day One. “When I stand before my class with my mannish body in women’s clothes, students know the score,” writes McGill University law professor Darren Rosenblum. “But I want to make it clear that my classroom is a safe space where people can identify, or not.”
How do we avoid AI-enhanced attempts to manipulate the election? Elon Musk posted an AI-generated audio clip of Kamala Harris saying things she never said. In New Hampshire, a fake Joe Biden voice was used in a robocall. Ann G. Skeet and John P. Pelissero say it’s too late for policy changes to make a difference this election, so voters themselves need to watch for clues that the information they’re consuming was generated by artificial intelligence.
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