“…I come to praise Harris today, not dismiss her. As the savvy political analyst Sean Trende wrote last week, she is the most natural politician in the field, and people are now underrating her chances.” – David Leonhardt, New York Times

I agree with Leonhardt (and Jonathan Bernstein, who linked to this op-ed): there’s no reason to count out Kamala Harris in her quest for the Democratic presidential nomination. It’s hardly out of the question that she could pull off a victory (though she’s experiencing a “summer slump,” in Leonhardt’s words).

It’s Leonhardt’s point – and Sean Trende’s – about Harris as the most naturally talented candidate in the field that I question. Trende phrased it this way: “She’s the most natural political athlete of the bunch …”

In the last presidential campaign the Democratic nominee conceded that she wasn’t a natural at seeking office, which serves to put the compliment of Harris in perspective.

Hillary Clinton is not a natural politician, nor is she a natural public speaker. This is not my opinion; this is Clinton’s own. “Look, I have said before and it won’t surprise anybody to hear me say it, this is not easy for me,” Clinton said at a debate in March. “I am not a natural politician, in case you haven’t noticed, like my husband or President Obama.” She has to work hard, in other words, to achieve something that appears to be an innate gift for many of her peers.

If this was meant to endear the voting public toward her, it’s not clear that it worked. Last week, Jamelle Bouie used Clinton’s own “natural politician” line in perhaps exactly the opposite way that Clinton’s camp hoped it would be used, as an example of the reasons why liberals are worried that “she doesn’t inspire in ways we expect our presidential hopefuls to inspire”; a Salon piece echoed that sentiment, repeating the line that she lacks “the charm of her husband or the charisma of Barack Obama.”

So is charm or charisma the mark of natural political talent? Or a savvy gift for relating to people, perhaps?

In an earlier political era, Lyndon Johnson was often referred to as a natural-born politician:

Johnson was … just a natural politician.…

When he was a senator, he was about to embark on a re-election campaign tour back in Texas and convened his speechwriters to review a draft speech that they had done for him. Johnson reviews this speech and he comes upon a passage from Socrates.

And he looks at this passage, and he says, “Socrates? Socrates? Now, let me get this straight. I’m going back home to Texas to talk to just plain folks, and you have me quoting Socrates?” He said, “Keep the quote in, but start it with, ‘My daddy always used to say…”

Johnson had an instinctive understanding of how to connect to people and, often, this was attributed to LBJ’s yearning for connection, to his passion for hand-shaking and back-slapping. (Quite unlike Hillary Clinton, certainly.)

Johnson is a back-slapper, a shoulder hugger, a knee squeezer. “I like to press the flesh,” he says, “and look a man in the eye.”

As Hillary Clinton suggested, the former Secretary of State’s spouse, the exceedingly empathetic Bill Clinton, has long been regarded as a natural pol.

“Bill Clinton is an incredibly gifted politician. Bill Clinton is a room and it doesn’t matter how many people are in the room, you think he’s talking to you.”

Paul Krugman, who made this observation about Clinton, contrasted him to Barack Obama. “But, in fact, Bill Clinton was not a consequential president. And Obama, although clearly not the natural politician, is a consequential president.”

Perhaps Krugman is suggesting that Obama was too cerebral, too reserved, to be considered a natural à la LBJ or Bill Clinton. Another contrast (of two legendary California pols) draws on that distinction: Jerry Brown, elected and reelected to the governorship of California twice (serving two terms beginning in 1975 and then again in 2011), was often compared with his father, Pat Brown (governor in an earlier era), who was thought of as the natural.

This small world, held together by a dense web of friendships and favors, was made-to-order for a man like Pat Brown. Smart, affable, and energetic, Pat had a natural politician’s ready laugh and long memory.

…

Jerry was unlike his father in many ways: less amiable, more introspective, and less disciplined, he was not a natural politician.

Does being a natural politician hinge on amiability, camaraderie, a longing for contact with people – or on a different skill set? Some observers might insist that (contrary to Krugman’s assessment) the intelligent, savvy Obama – a more restrained, more cool (in Marshall McLuhan’s sense) persona than LBJ, Bill Clinton, or Pat Brown – was nonetheless a natural politician. His personal gifts, including his oratory, were certainly a foundation of his political success.

I’d add that Jerry Brown’s successes over a long career arguably surpass those of his father. And Brown completely dominated Sacramento in his final two terms as governor.

Perhaps this mastery, after decades of experience, was learned and not natural? Surely that is not a distinction that the assessment of Harris’s political talent hinges on. First elected in 2004, she has been immersed in the political world even longer. She’s had ample time to learn.

Just to cover all the bases, let’s turn to the other side of the aisle. The most successful Republican political figure in the past half century, Ronald Reagan, was renowned for his stage presence, especially in front of the camera, and for communicating evocative themes in clear, simple terms with convincing sincerity.

Above all, Ronald Reagan was also a natural politician. Virtually every new account demonstrates that the stage and not the Statehouse or Capitol Hill may be the most effective launching pad for power in a picture culture.

He clearly had a knack for politics. Reagan was elected president of the Screen Actors Guild in 1947, long before he spent years honing conservative talking points as a spokesman for General Electric. But, natural or not, Reagan (as with the other successful politicians) had decades to develop into the iconic figure we remember – ‘the great communicator’ who could speak for a nation.

I’ll readily grant that Kamala Harris has an impressive array of political skills. But what is it, exactly, that she has that none of the other Democratic candidates possess in such ample measure? Why is she “the most natural political athlete of the bunch”?

She’s a good debater – sometimes; that is, when she is well-prepped in advance and doesn’t have to think on her feet (though thus far she has turned in an impressive performance in one debate out of three). A handful of sharp questions in the Senate Judiciary Committee also speak of ample preparation, not agility.

Harris – like Pat Brown, as referenced above – has a ready laugh (even when she laughs longer and harder than anyone else in the room at her own quips).

Is she charismatic? That’s a loaded word. One that is often associated with youth, vigor, and – yes – good looks. Think of JFK. Think also of Barack Obama’s enthusiastic commentary on Harris as “the best-looking attorney general in the country.” Trende’s use of the word ‘athlete’ is also suggestive. Does charisma turn on physicality, if not physical attractiveness?

In Leonhardt’s own reckoning, the Harris campaign (at this stage) has exposed a couple of significant weaknesses. “There is a pattern here. Harris can be too quick to speak or react without thinking.” The second weakness is her failure to “develop a clearer theory of her campaign’s case.” In other words, to articulate why she is running for president. She must, Leonhardt advises, “help voters understand her values and priorities.”

Leonhardt continues, “Over the last several months, I’ve had several Democratic voters tell me a version of the same story. They had just listened to Harris appear on television or a podcast, and they really wanted to like her. Yet she didn’t quite meet their expectations. They weren’t sure exactly who she was.”

Leonhardt and I – with those Democratic voters he’s spoken with – are in agreement again. But I think that singling out Harris as the “most natural” talent among the dozen or so experienced Democratic candidates pursuing the nomination reveals a hunger for an inspirational opponent to take on Donald Trump; a hope that Harris will live up to her resume and her identity and those fleeting moments in front of the cameras when she prosecuted the case (against Barr and Biden, for instance); a fervent desire to read into her something Democrats long for – rather than a reasonable assessment of Senator Harris’s political touch circa 2019.

Ed Kilgore writes today of Senator Harris:

From the get-go, she was a smart-money favorite. She was telegenic, well-spoken, and multiracial (half-Asian-American, half-African-American, and married to a white Jewish guy to boot), with a solid résumé of federal, state, and local offices — and nary an electoral defeat.

Democrats have been pulling for her – longing for her to succeed. But, as we watch the primary play out, do Harris’s political skills really set her apart?

The best politicians, those with a real mastery, seem to enjoy the give and take of the political arena. And we enjoy watching political figures – at least those on our side – who thrive in that environment, those who make it look easy and effortless. We may call them naturals.

I have no doubt that Sean Trende can make a case for the natural talent of the junior Senator from California. But placing her above everyone else in this diverse group of candidates? I don’t believe that what we’ve actually witnessed can justify that judgment.