JD Vance’s political career has been marked by growing pains. As a vice-presidential nominee with a steady stream of negative polls and internal party scrutiny, the Ohio senator’s rise seems to be stalling. Critics point to his staunch social conservatism, while supporters blame media bias for his image. Yet, a deeper look at Vance’s past—specifically his early days as a blogger—reveals a more nuanced and perhaps instructive explanation for his struggles today.
In the early 2010s, Vance, then still going by his adopted name JD Hamel, contributed to FrumForum, a platform run by David Frum, a former George W. Bush speechwriter and current Never-Trumper. His posts, while forgettable in terms of content, painted a picture of a man who was deeply engaged with political ideas—perhaps too much so for the modern political landscape.
Vance’s blogs were full of typical, yet dated, Republican fare from the Obama era. He preferred Jon Huntsman over Mitt Romney, criticized Grover Norquist on ethanol subsidies, and took shots at Paul Ryan’s austerity proposals. But it’s not the content that matters so much as the mindset behind it—a mindset that was academic, intellectual, and, at times, overly self-serious.
Fast forward to today, and Vance is a prominent figure in Trump’s inner circle. His personal and political evolution—from a wonky, Huntsman-supporting intellectual to a staunch Trump ally—has attracted both admiration and criticism. Yet, the primary issue isn’t simply Vance’s shifting views or political flip-flopping. It’s his ideological framework, which seems fundamentally at odds with the practical realities of campaigning.
Politics, at its core, is a contest of persuasion. Successful candidates must sell an inspiring message, one that resonates with voters and appeals to broad constituencies. This requires a certain pragmatism—something Vance’s blog posts often lacked. Instead of focusing on mass appeal, his early writings reflect an obsession with philosophical consistency and intellectual purity.
As Matthew Yglesias, co-founder of Vox, pointed out, “Trying to be an interesting writer and trying to be an effective politician are somewhat antithetical.” In Vance’s case, his writing—much like his current political persona—often feels disconnected from the realities of electoral politics.
Consider Vance’s remark in his blog about becoming a conservative after reading Robert Bork’s Slouching Towards Gomorrah. This kind of intellectual indulgence, while resonant among a select circle of like-minded thinkers, is likely to turn off the broader electorate, especially in a moment when style, charisma, and populism dominate the political stage.
Vance’s critics frequently accuse him of hypocrisy, pointing out his shift from a moderate, science-respecting Republican to a fervent Trump supporter. Yet the more fundamental issue is his struggle to translate his intellectual passions into an effective political message. While his transition to Trumpism is not necessarily unusual within the modern Republican Party, Vance’s approach to politics seems more suited to the confines of academic circles than to the tumultuous and often crude world of electoral politics.
This tension between Vance’s academic inclinations and his role as a candidate mirrors the trajectory of other intellectuals-turned-politicians. Take, for example, Elizabeth Warren. While she too is known for her intellectual rigor, Warren’s path to political success included spending years in grassroots organizing and enduring a humbling loss. Vance, on the other hand, leveraged his intellectual celebrity, aligning with figures like Trump and Peter Thiel, to fast-track his way to power—bypassing the necessary political maturation that could have given his intellectual ideas more practical grounding.
Vance’s public missteps, like his controversial “childless cat ladies” remark, highlight the clash between his intellectual identity and the need for electoral finesse. It’s clear that Vance is trying to fit his ideological beliefs into the mold of the modern GOP, but the result is often clumsy and out of step with the electorate. His comments on abortion and other social issues have alienated large swaths of potential voters, especially suburban women—a demographic crucial to his campaign’s success.
Vance’s strategy of blending intellectual conservatism with populist rhetoric has so far yielded mixed results. In a world dominated by social media and partisan divides, his approach of combining high-minded political theory with provocative far-right rhetoric may energize the political elites and online communities that power the Trumpist movement. But it risks alienating the very voters Vance needs to win over in November.
“I kind of appreciate that [Vance] is a broad reader and participant in the world of ideas; I find that admirable even if it’s unusual in a potential vice president,” Yglesias said. This is, perhaps, the most generous reading of Vance’s political style. While his intellectual curiosity may endear him to some, it remains to be seen whether he can balance his academic inclinations with the demands of a winning political strategy.
In the end, Vance’s journey from intellectual blogger to vice-presidential nominee offers a valuable lesson: politics isn’t just about being right. It’s about persuading people, understanding the art of compromise, and crafting a message that resonates with a broad electorate. Until he learns to master this balance, Vance’s political future remains uncertain—no matter how many blogs he wrote back in the day.
