By the time Election Day rolled around, Roy Cooper’s victory in the Senate race in North Carolina, which flipped a seat in the chamber from Republican to Democrat, was almost a foregone conclusion, given how early he took a lead in polls, how consistently he held on to it and how increasingly hostile to Republicans the midterm climate seemed to be.
But make no mistake: This is a purple state, a dab redder than it is blue, and it hadn’t chosen a Democrat in a Senate or presidential contest since 2008, when Barack Obama came out on top here. It was anyone’s to win before Cooper kicked off his bid. And his triumph speaks to a whole lot more than good timing.
“The national environment may have spotted Cooper a few points,” Asher Hildebrand, a Duke University professor who closely tracks North Carolina politics, said. “But the rest of the margin is a story of candidate quality.”
As much as any midterm race, Cooper’s affirmed the power of the right person waging the right campaign. A former two-term governor of North Carolina who had been the state’s attorney general for four terms before that, he had near-universal name recognition, so he didn’t have to waste time or money introducing himself to voters. He had been vetted thoroughly, so there were no private scandals, personal demons or other such drama in store.
He could focus on his chosen message, which is what he did — relentlessly, unerringly, with the confidence that he didn’t need sweeping exhortations, catchy slogans or viral memes to draw attention. His unelectric rallies were billed as the Make Stuff Cost Less tour, during which he spoke in prosaic terms about quotidian anxieties: access to health insurance, the cost of groceries, utility rates. Many Democratic candidates identified affordability as voters’ key concern. Few lived, breathed and droned on about it the way Cooper did.
“Low risk.” “Workmanlike.” That’s how Hildebrand described Cooper’s campaign, and he meant those terms as high compliments. “Voters like his brand of authentic, no-nonsense competence, which is refreshingly idiosyncratic in this age of partisan flamethrowing,” he said.
Cooper’s Republican opponent, Michael Whatley, was unknown to most North Carolina voters when he became the Republican nominee in March. He had never held elected office. He had no record to run on. But he couldn’t turn that inexperience to his advantage by styling himself as a fresh-faced, untainted, anti-establishment insurgent because he’d worked for many years as a lobbyist — and was on the ballot essentially because President Trump had put him there.
That made him “the classic Trump loyalty candidate,” said Michael Bitzer, a professor of political science and history at Catawba College in Salisbury, N.C. And loyalty was liability as the race progressed and Trump’s popularity continued to sink. According to an Elon University poll several weeks before Election Day, 34 percent of North Carolina adults approved of Trump’s job performance while 57 percent disapproved. Perhaps a charismatic Republican untethered to Trump could have transcended that ill will. A phlegmatic toady like Whatley was doomed.
Especially given his uncommonly unflappable and durable rival, who said to the electorate: You know me. You trust me. I’m not here with bitter grievances and gaudy promises. I’d just like the chance to lower your electric bill.
The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: [email protected].
Follow the New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Bluesky, WhatsApp and Threads.
The post How to Bore Your Way Into the Senate appeared first on New York Times.
