Alec Cowan takes a look at the Bernie Sanders phenomenon and the aftermath of the primary election to find out where the Bernie Sanders supporters have gone and what they’ve been up to.

The post Podcast: Where did they go: the story of the Sanders’ survivors appeared first on Emerald Media.

Emerald political columnists Zach Moss and Alec Cowan discuss Reza Aslan’s recent visit to the University of Oregon, terrorism and Donald Trump.

With one month until election day, all expectations are gone.  

The past week of the 2016 presidential election has been dizzying. Numerous tapes of Donald Trump boasting of his exploits have caused many Republicans to back down from their initial support of the candidate, while a new array of emails has voters questioning Hillary Clinton and her already suspicious character. Both of these developments transpired 48 hours before the second presidential debate, stirring speculation and controversy into the anticipated bout.

The town hall style of the forum opened the candidates to questions from undecided voters. While some of these questions surrounded topical discussions or taxes and Islamophobia, there were also questions of character. The debate opened with a question asking if the candidates are, themselves, positive role models to the public. Both candidates gave expected answers promoting their campaign’s goals, but the question does strike at something deeper within this election: fear.

According to a USA Today poll taken in September, 80 percent of people supporting Donald Trump said they would be “scared” of a Clinton presidency, and 62 percent of Clinton’s supporters said they are “scared” of a Trump presidency.

These are tough statistics in an election where voters want to believe in uprooting the establishment and arising victorious in a new political arena. However, the common thread instead seems to be voting based on fear, not excitement; a scenario in which the winner is the survivor of the cliche ‘lesser-of-two-evils.’

For the undecided voters in the audience at the last debate, this is the difficulty in formulating questions. What questions could they ask that wouldn’t result in the candidates devolving into emails, audio tapes or tax returns? At what point could this election actually get back to politics and not the seemingly endless scandals enveloping their every move? The true answer is, never.

Donald Trump in this debate called Clinton “the Devil” and threatened to lock her in prison should he be elected, a move that some are now attributing to a dictator-like tendency hidden within Trump. Clinton dodged a potential attack against her open border comments and escaped a full scale war against Bill Clinton’s history of sexual allegations. What was designed to address the concerns of undecided voters became a slugfest of scandal.

“That’s why this election feels so depressing to people, because it’s a referendum on the other person – how bad they are,” said CBS News Political Director John Dickerson earlier in this election, and this assertion has only gained momentum after Sunday’s debate.

“Whoever wins, there will be a sourness to the victory, and that’s a problem if you want to actually do something when you get in office,” Dickerson said, which presents a very tricky reality: With partisan politics pushing into deep personal qualities like sexual morality and if a president is trustworthy, how will the country cope after the election?

Within the atmosphere that culminated both before and after the debate, this election is forced to glance at the unethical character of its nominees and question the unethical character of the government itself. This election has the political establishment becoming increasingly self-aware between Bernie Sanders’ call for a purified government and Trump’s domination as an apolitical savior. There has been a constant evolution from the traditional and status quo, which has produced a new awareness of the government but invariably led to the often appalling race that voters see now. The 2016 election is one of dissatisfaction and as Jimmy Carter might say, a crisis of confidence.

The interesting effect of this election is a voting base that is deeply invested in voting but not in its candidates. There is a blooming passion for voter awareness and third party activism, but from a base that in many ways still feels hopeless. It is an election of paradox, in which there is much at stake but little to be gained from two candidates that seem to exist only as the lesser of two evils.

The debate ended on a question of what the candidates saw as positive within the other candidate. It was a touching moment which spoke to a moral tinge outside of the harsh gloves-off debating. But the sweet ending of the debate is met with a looming election day that carries a weight of a drastically different American future. There’s a Supreme Court Justice on the line. The future of the Republican party is on the line.

The future of the presidency is on the line.

Listen to Alec Cowan and Zach Moss discuss political events in the most recent episode of the Emerald’s Political Podcast:

The vice presidential debate is not attractive. Only one is held per election and it features two figures with smaller names and significantly smaller roles than their running mates. Making the debate appealing is difficult, but Tuesday’s provided the best opportunity for voters to see the campaigns’ characterizations of their policies — with some zest, of course.

The surprising result of the debate was one of the best explanations of campaign policies voters have seen. Tuesday’s debate included tax policy, police reform, immigration, and national security.

The juxtaposition of Virginia Sen. Tim Kaine and Indiana Gov. Mike Pence is stark, but the truth is that their personal qualifications for vice president don’t make much of a difference in the long run. Within the debate, personal policies — abortion and religion, for example — didn’t make their way to the stage, significant because both are issues that have defined the candidates’ careers. Regardless, the expectation of a dull evening faded as soon as Elaine Quijano opened the floor to contestations.

The role of the two candidates is simple: add to the party resume and praise their running mate. Pence brings political experience to a campaign bent on marketing its outsider frontrunner, and Kaine brings a moderate and cooperative tone to a Clinton campaign that found itself falling further left after the Bernie Sanders phenomenon.

While the candidates identified some controversial issues, what many viewers thought would be a calm debate quickly became aggressive. Kaine retorted with venom each moment Pence had to speak, and, after enough coaxing, Pence began to retaliate. Donald Trump, who interrupted Hillary Clinton more than 50 times in their match, was overshadowed by Kaine in this debate, who interrupted Pence over 70 times. Pence, however, kept a poised expression for most of the debate, a contrast to his running mate’s style.

Kaine’s strategy, it seemed, was to regurgitate Trump’s own words. In one particular retaliation, he formulated a popular criticism of Trump:

“I just want to talk about the tone set from the top. Donald Trump during this campaign has called Mexicans rapists and criminals.”

Pence responded by calling the Clinton campaign “insult driven,” a label that would follow Kaine throughout the night. While Kaine hoped to force Pence to defend Donald Trump’s words, but each time the Indiana governor let the accusations roll off of his shaking head, or deflected the claims by focusing on the Obama administration and Clinton’s failures. He didn’t defend Trump, which turned out to be his best strategy and ultimately his greatest success.  

What’s left from the debate is a splintered Trump campaign and a somewhat deflated Clinton morale. Pence’s strong showing, which is rumored to have even caught ridicule from his own running mate, gave hope to Trump supporters seeking more political experience and definition on Trump’s policies. Pence himself seemed to show a more confident politician, an experience that has distinguished Trump but cost him voters and established traditional republicans in the campaign thus far.

As the media tallies decisions, it is increasingly obvious that Pence was the winner of the debate. Polished, calm and acutely in control of temperament and message, his performance alone puts the Trump campaign back on track — at least with its image. Most of the things Pence contested from Kaine were fact-checked to be true, and there lies the crutch in the Trump campaign: Trump’s own words.

Pence’s performance gives Americans normality. Now, the only thing left fighting Trump after the debate is the incorrect deflections by Pence, but as Sarah Kohn, a political activist and speaker, told CNN about the debate, “Donald Trump has already bent the electoral process, the media and the boundaries of basic civility to his whims. He may now bend the concept of fact as well. Certainly, his loyal running mate is trying.”

In a year filled with the unexpected, the role of the vice president has become something unexpected as well: a necessary sidekick that brings a valued depth to the election and, inevitably, the presidency. Right now Pence is the glue holding together the Trump campaign, and this debate — typically looked over and forgotten — is a major change in momentum for the Trump campaign. It could very well be that the vice presidential debate pulled voters back into this race.

Republican nominee Donald Trump stared glumly into the camera and flatly dropped the word like he had so many times before.

“Wrong,” he said in a monotone Queens accent.

His opponent, Hillary Clinton, pressed onward, smiling slightly at the interjection but appearing unscathed. At times both candidates took moments to defend themselves against accusations from both their opponent and moderator Lester Holt, all the while adding more claims to be challenged.

Fact-checking was one of the larger topics surrounding Monday’s debate after Matt Lauer’s floundering as moderator in the Commander-in-chief forum earlier this month. Should moderators attack false claims from candidates and seek an admittance of falsehood, or should fact-checking be left to the candidates?

Moving the debate to foreign policy and the anticipated discussion of the Iraq war, Lester Holt attempted to correct Trump on his previously stated support for the Iraq war, but the Republican nominee would not admit to it.

“Mr. Trump a lot of these are judgment questions. You had supported the war in Iraq before the invasion,” Holt stated.

“I did not support the war in Iraq,” Trump responded. What ensued was an exchange between the two in which Holt continued to state Trump’s support for the war while Trump vehemently denied the accusation, even retracing his statements back to his 2002 interview with Sean Hannity. “That is mainstream media nonsense put out by [Hillary Clinton],” Trump accused.

This awkward exchange is certainly entertaining but not in the least educational for those viewing the debate, as the original question on judgement was drowned out by a sea of irrelevant justifications.

This distracting discourse is why many moderators feel that it is not their job to challenge the validity of statements made by debaters. Chris Wallace, the moderator for the third debate this season, shares this sentiment.

“I do not believe that it’s my job to be a truth squad. It’s up to the other person to catch them on that.” Wallace said to his network, Fox News, earlier this month.

There are certainly hundreds of voices at any one moment in a debate who are fact-checking the candidates. Major publications like the New York Times and NPR provided almost instantaneous fact-checks live during the debate. Since the debate finished, entire lists have been compiled of false statements told by either candidate. Fact-checking is certainly thriving online and voters are desperate to educate others on the truths of statements, taking the burden of moderators to halt a debate for validity’s sake. The executive director of the commission on presidential debates, Janet Brown, tackles the argument logistically:

“I think, personally, if you start to get into the fact-check, I am not sure — what is a big fact, and what is a little fact?” she said on CNN this past Sunday. “And if you and I have different sources of information, does your source about the unemployment rate agree with my source?”

What really resulted from this debate between moderator and candidate was a fact left in doldrums. While Trump attempted to explain his past rhetoric the true question of adequate military judgement was lost, which Holt attempted to regain but was finally left buried in the lively defense of Trump to his own words.

Lucas Graves, a journalism professor at the University of Wisconsin Madison, understands that it’s dangerous to allow false statements to be made, however, “The danger of leaving it up to the candidates to fact-check each other is that it doesn’t necessarily bring us any closer to the truth.”

What voters can affirm for themselves is that this past debate provided an often improvised, arduous debate that had an abyss of incorrect assertions with little progress made when those assertions were challenged. The exploration for truth did nothing to realistically present a victory, and only proved to distract candidates from matters pertaining to their own opinions of their character and their ability to provide leadership.

The debate, which offered a record audience the opportunity to understand both candidates in real time, does not need a machismo inflected by one candidate presenting more right answers than the other—it does not need to devolve to a standardized test in which candidates grab for the exact words they once spoke.

Future debates need a fluid transparency of who they are and who they hope to be, both criticizing their opponent while providing their alternative, and trust that the truth will be provided for the thousands seeking it.

Listen to Alec Cowan and Zach Moss discuss the debate further in the most recent episode of the Emerald’s Political Podcast:

Outrage was kindled this past week as Jimmy Fallon, the iconic “Late Night Show” host, ran his comedic fingers through Donald Trump’s well-known hair. Donald Trump was the first nominee this cycle to appear on his show, and the antics produced waves of criticism, mainly asking the question: Why did Jimmy Fallon not take Donald Trump seriously?

This question has been a recent theme in the media. Matt Lauer, “Today Show” host and public figure, was chosen to host the Commander-In-Chief Forum, a quick ‘debate’ where nominees answered questions from both Lauer and audience members pertaining to national security issues. Lauer eagerly questioned Hillary Clinton on her email debacle, hardly allowing for actual responses to audience member questions, while allowing Donald Trump to verifiably lie about his support for the Iraq War. Lauer received blowback from this night because he was reported as harboring “unfairness, sloppiness and even sexism in his handling of the event.”

Thus begins the Fallon fiasco. As a comedic entity, Jimmy Fallon isn’t typically held to the standards of journalistic integrity that Matt Lauer is, but that doesn’t mean that those concerned with the election weren’t eager to press Fallon for taking a “kids-gloves approach” to the evening. Other late night talk show outlets, such as “Full Frontal with Samantha Bee,” “Late Night” with Seth Meyers and “Late Show” with Stephen Colbert, took to scolding Fallon by airing their own investigations into the birther issue, slyly subverting Fallon’s own unwillingness to research the issue.

“Why do so many Americans think playing footsie with fringe hate groups is a disqualifier from polite society, much less presidency?” asked Samatha Bee on her show, “Full Frontal.” She went on to state that comedic celebrity appearances such as ones on the “Late Night show” “gladly nurtured Trump’s celebrity.”

This brings up a difficult issue. Do hosts like Jimmy Fallon, renowned for taking celebrities out of their comfort zone and humanizing them through impromptu games, owe a debt to America to besiege Donald Trump’s policies? Or are actual journalists like Matt Lauer, now emblazoned on the pages of twitter for his “Today Show” antics (dressing like Paris Hilton for one), becoming too entertainment based?

John Oliver, host of “Last Week Tonight” and another zesty, comedic and political personality on TV, recently studied the efforts that print media and traditional news organizations go through to produce popular content. What he found was that multiple storied, historical organizations are now pushing to create pop-culture themed stories—those that are typically featured in Buzzfeed, centering on celebrity gossip and things like puppies.

This is the difficult aspect of media today. What has resulted from this election specifically are a media that makes critiques of candidates and yet embrace the insanity of the circumstances. The election cycle is punctuated by a hopeless humor of what should be political debate, but is instead sensationalist entertainment. 

Modern journalism can’t be faulted as it finds itself trapped in an era having to compete with detailed, investigative counterparts and viral pop culture themes. The transition to online delivery forces news organizations to fight with viral home videos and click-bait headlines, which in the elective cycle has led to more conspiracies (and the continuation of others). Conversely, Obama’s hit with younger generations comes not from his campaign’s taxed efforts, but with his effortless style and sly comedy. 

The question then becomes, what is the right answer? Should comedy icons be expected to parlay their personalities and ask ‘hard questions,’ or should figures like Fallon, who gave the same treatment to Donald Trump that he would anyone else, continue to groove in their niche. The lines between politics-as-entertainment and politics-as-history-changing-decisions seems blurred, and hard hitting, investigative journalism seems washed away in a surf of speculation and annoying incredulity. The sardonic approach to this election and these televised gaffes seems to only relay the message that the division between the serious and playful are more and more erased, and that the entertainment value of a Donald Trump—whether that is outrage, devotion or comedy—is too much to pass up.

This past month, the allegedly distant dream of Donald Trump’s candidacy became an undeniable reality as the New York businessman successfully captured the delegate count to secure the Republican nomination. Since its initial arrival, smiling on a shining escalator, the Trump campaign has drawn millions of voters into the roomy 747 that has graced the tarmacs of so many cities with the banner of “Make America Great Again” proudly welcoming every new patron. Trump has officially arrived.

Also arriving with the candidate’s official win is a timely need for introspection: How did he get here, though so many thought it was laughably improbable? Who has he brought along with him? What, more emphatically, has he brought along with him?

The answers to these questions are colorful. Many say his supporters are bigoted, supremacist or uneducated, but the phenomenon of Trump extends much farther than even his own policies. Indeed, Trump’s attraction runs much deeper than political promises and unprofessional jargon: it is built on empowerment.

Trump’s strategy has been more than just representing his voters’ views — it’s about his ability to boost the confidence of his constituents in their beliefs, praising their decision to support him and giving back some of the power he holds in return.

He does this by repeatedly using the words “strong” and “powerful” in contrast to their opposites of “weak” and “powerless,” especially when making the conventional “us vs. them” dichotomy. The way Trump speaks has always been uncouth, but the full effect of his speech is actually felt by those it superciliously uplifts; not by those it attacks.

And, consequently, voters everywhere love it.

“I like people that want to win,” Trump said at his Eugene rally. “Look at all these strong people out here in the audience.”

As Trump opened his rally, he immediately applauded the strength of his supporters; he began by acknowledging his voters’ power, then shifted the focus of that power towards those who would want to take it away.

When a “heckler” began chanting inside the pavilion, Trump looked at them and changed his train of thought. “I love my hecklers,” he said. “A lot of times you’ll have a heckler no one can hear because they have weak voices, but my people are yelling ‘Here, here, here!’” As the crowd clapped for his vocal compliment, he elected to allow this protester to stay.

The next heckler wasn’t as fortunate. His supporters began shouting and pointed them out for their candidate to give the order of ejection. He did so gleefully with a powerful “Get him out of here,” mockingly saying “Go home to mommy“ as they left. Trump later indulged himself by reciting various histories of his experiences with “hecklers,” even attacking a Hillary speech as having “Weak and pathetic hecklers… I think they were for Bernie. These were meek, mild hecklers,” before recounting his own parse record with protesters.

His rhetoric continued throughout the rally. “Women want strength,” he yelled over the enthusiastic crowd, later in the rally. “We are going to put this country back together.”

These moments made the crowd electric, due to the fact that Trump has grown past the convention of just a politician that makes his voters believe in their politics — he is a figure that is making voters believe in who they are as people. Not only are they Republicans or conservatives but men and women with strong and powerful lifestyles, and, by believing in Trump, they have some power that others simply don’t. Put simply, Trump supporters are elevated past their political label and given characteristics that impact their lives outside of politics.

As Domenico Montanaro from NPR put it, long before Trump’s nomination was guaranteed, “Trump’s supporters aren’t with him because they want to hear the wonky details. They want someone to channel what they feel.”

This power that Trump wields is taking voters outside of Washington, elevating them past the ideal of better institutions and emphasizing their ideal of being a better human being, which is something no other 2016 candidate has done thus far. This is shown in both his rhetoric and the result of it, which has seen an emphasis in racial identity, gender affiliation and physical dominance against those that oppose him. His supporters now feel a new power in who they are and their ability for that power to be felt — they’re a new congregation for the man who loudly proclaimed “I am nothing more than a messenger.”

Trump is very much like a savior to many Republicans. Believing in him not only reinforces what they see as good in the world, but their belief in him gives them strength. He’s against the establishment, like some kind of savior against the pharisaical politicians of old. He’s delivering the country from the partisan bondage of politics to the land of capitalist milk and honey.

Many call him a demagogue, but he is truthfully becoming something more than a demagogue: He is becoming a deity, with powerful and frighteningly enthusiastic followers, and a fixation on his ability to influence others. As his campaign continues, the world is left to see his power shower down on his believers as well, as the new Church of Trump rises against a sea of naïve nonbelievers.

Follow Alec on Twitter @SirAlec_9542

President Barack Obama has held many titles over his eight-year tenure: Christian, Muslim, peacekeeper, communist, ‘Obummer’ and Nobel-prize winner just to name a few.

As his presidency comes to its waning months and Americans are left to look back on his historic office, one of Obama’s more treasured titles would have to be comedian, due to his brief moments of hilarity brought about by viral videos with Buzzfeed and of course, the hallmark Correspondents’ Dinner.

Throughout his terms, the Correspondents’ Dinner has been the opportune time for the President to bring out his humorous side, much to the nervous applause of the media and politicians filling the room. Amid the repetitive and depressing appearances concerning mass shootings and Republican obstructionism, these shining nights have allowed Washington to release some chuckles and playfully acknowledge their own shortcomings, dressed in their finest regalia.

Obama made a dynamic entrance to his final dinner, stepping up to the podium to Anna Kendrick’s cover of “Cups” and acknowledging the lines “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone” with a smile and an affirmation of, “You can’t say it, but it’s true.” The night would follow this joking tone, starting with the biggest elephant in the room: the Republican party.

“GOP Chairman Reince Priebus is here as well. Glad to see that you feel you’ve earned a night off. Congratulations on all your success! The Republican Party, the nomination process—it’s all going great. Keep it up!” he exclaimed in an obviously indulgent reference to the party’s Donald Trump problem.

He continued flexing his pop-culture wit, next harkening to the inevitable topic of the Republican obstruction of his Supreme Court nomination, Judge Merrick Garland:

“In fact, I think we’ve got Republican Senators Tim Scott and Cory Gardner. They are in the house, which reminds me … security, bar the doors. Judge Merrick Garland come on out. We are going to do this right here. Right now. It’s like the red wedding.”

The reference to the “Game of Thrones” massacre led to communal laughter, but the subtle anger underneath the lines was easily felt by the entire room, much to the discomfort of the Republican senators.

The media did not escape the roasting block, either.

“Even reporters have left me. Savannah Guthrie, she has left the White House press corps to host the Today show. Norah O’Donnell left the briefing room to host CBS This Morning. Jake Tapper left journalism to join CNN,” he said.

He finished by thanking the cast of recent Oscar-winner Spotlight for all their hard work in “holding the powerful accountable,” jokingly admitting that they are indeed a cast for a film he described as the “best fantasy film since Star Wars.”

The President has shown that he can communicate his humor to massive audiences in cameos like his viral Buzzfeed video, and he has never shied away from the opportunity to show the lighthearted paragon of his often frustrating presidency at nights like these. Obama’s performances at these dinners particularly have been consistently edgy and humorous, but also always witty.

Though full of joviality, the tension and honesty that emanates from his jokes is something that is almost depressing to enjoy, as even amid the laughter there is a truth that rings through the halls of the nation’s classiest soiree.

Unfortunately, these dinners—which, sadly, this was his last—are small glimpses into the mind of a stalwart leader. For his supporters it is an incontrovertible annunciation of the failures of those around him to work with him, and for those that object to him, it’s a call to the conscience that is difficult to go along with. Vox writer Ezra Klein put it well:

“It’s evolved into a recital of brutal truths — albeit one neither side ever really admits happened.”

That’s the rub: even after the anxious night and honest tellings, nothing may very well happen. His targets will continue to block him in his self-proclaimed “lame-duck” period, Trump will continue to be the Republican nominee and the media will continue to exhaust coverage of events long past. Though much has changed, much still remains to be fixed. As President Obama looks forward to January 2017 (and his future as the comedic “Couch Commander”), America will be left to remember the humorous and hard times they had with such a historic President.

They may very well miss him when he’s gone.

Emerald political columnists Zach Moss and Alec Cowan discuss recent events regarding transgender rights, including North Carolina’s anti-trans bathroom bill, as well as the University of Oregon’s LGBT friendliness ranking.

As Hillary Clinton comes closer to the Democratic nomination, still contested by a persistent Sen. Bernie Sanders, the heat has turned up. The last debate between Sanders and Clinton was atypical for the duo, as their usually cordial air became more akin to a Republican debate, filled with negative attacks and sly shots at one another.

While most of Sanders’ objections were based on Clinton’s ties to Wall Street, one of the prime accusations against her this season has been that she’s a “flip-flopper”: a politician who changes her opinion any time she sees an opportunity to gain votes.

To say Clinton has adopted different views throughout her political career is fair. She changed her stance most notably on gay marriage and the Iraq war, two monumental controversies of the last decade. Even since her 2008 run, her views have shifted, leaving the public and media at large to question the ethics of her campaign.

“Will you say anything to get elected?” asked Anderson Cooper at the 2016 Las Vegas debate.

“Well, actually, I have been very consistent. Over the course of my entire life, I have always fought for the same values and principles, but, like most human beings — including those of us who run for office — I do absorb new information. I do look at what’s happening in the world,” responded Clinton.

This could be seen as the reaction of a very practiced politician, but the question itself reinvigorates an age-old issue in politics. President Barack Obama was called a flip-flopper during his campaigns, and the title has been bestowed on him even as his administration closes its final months. Flip-flopping has become a commonplace term easily tossed out by voters and analysts, but the major pitfall of the idea is that it shortchanges the ability for politicians to evolve their views.

The staunch divide between Sanders and Clinton — or, more broadly, the revolutionary and the establishment — brings greater credence to the flip-flopper debate than usual. Sanders’ ticket runs on the promise of consistency, of not compromising to gain popularity. But the former Secretary of State and First Lady has acknowledged that throughout her political career she has changed her policies with intention.

The larger question arising from this divide is: Should voters always expect their representatives to continuously hold true to their beliefs, even from the very beginning of their political career? Sanders is a rare bird for sticking to the same policies since the 1980s, but does that show persistence or stubbornness?

Clinton’s former opponent, Martin O’Malley, thought that this obsequious obligation to the public was not the best role for her.

“Leadership is about making the right decision, and the best decision before sometimes it becomes entirely popular,” said O’Malley on CBS’ Face The Nation.

The best argument against the flip-flopper terminology is that it restricts the amount of flexibility that politicians have throughout their career. Society itself changes as time goes on, and most often, politicians are a reflection of those changes.

Throughout his career, Obama flip-flopped on the issue of gay marriage, though many believed that at heart he held convictions of its legality. Only when the American culture decided that this was its issue of choice did Obama feel he could advocate for its constitutionality. This earned him the title of flip-flopper, but that triggered reaction does not do service to the duty that politicians have to both their constituents and themselves, and this evolution is one that Clinton experienced as well.

Their own convictions become second to their duty to voters, which often means a cognitive dissonance in policy.

Clinton’s mobility is perhaps what makes her more center than far left. The ability to move with voters demonstrates greater compromise (perhaps making her a better politician). Sanders is not harmful politically, but it is only through the cooperation of these two figures — the staunch and the flexible — that government begins to work.

As Sanders begins to focus on his influence rather than his nomination, it would not be surprising to see Clinton and the Democratic Party adopt his views heading into the national election. The mass influence that he has garnered can bring massive changes to the party’s outlook, drawing it — and by association, Clinton — farther to left.

This is the balance between Clinton and Bernie; this is the power of compromise, not flopping.