Charles Lipson
Donald Trump is a showman and a master marketer, and he’s put those skills to good use again with his proposal to repeal the tip tax. It’s not just clever, it’s brilliant.
After the cheers from waiters and other service workers died down, political analysts weighed in. Here’s what they concluded: This is a very clever way to gain an advantage in Nevada, where the presidential election is close. Yes, it is. But Trump’s proposal is much smarter and would have a bigger impact, not so much because of its impact on tips, but because it would send a bigger signal to low-income workers across the country: “I understand your struggles, and I’m with you.”
No matter how hard Democrats try, they cannot convince voters that Trump is a billionaire who looks down on them and is lining the pockets of his friends at their expense.
Trump’s proposal makes that clear: It’s a blow to the IRS (who wouldn’t like that?) and a concrete example of how the former president is connecting with everyday workers, a much broader demographic than those who rely on tips.
President Biden has emphasized his ties to workers. He regularly refers to himself as “Scranton Joe” and says he was raised by every group in the town except the Hmong and Native Australians. (Those groups would no doubt be included if there were enough voters in battleground states.)
This struggle for working-class support has been central to American politics since the time of Andrew Jackson. The working class has been central to the Democratic coalition since Franklin Roosevelt’s reelection in 1936. Roosevelt cemented the party’s coalition. Since then, successful Democrats at the national level have counted on the working-class vote; those who haven’t (most famously Adlai Stevenson in 1956 and George McGovern in 1972) have suffered crushing defeats.
Ronald Reagan, a New Deal Democrat in his younger years, launched a frontal attack on President Franklin Roosevelt’s coalition, initiating long-term change in the process. Donald Trump has gone even further. He’s winning over white voters, vying for Hispanic voters, and at least slightly eroding black voters. Shifts among these three groups could have a major impact on the battleground states of Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Nevada, and Arizona. This year’s election may hinge on these states, and even slight changes could change the outcome.
Trump’s challenge to the core of the old Democratic coalition is part of a larger realignment of American voting patterns, most notably in affluent suburban areas that are gradually moving from moderate Republicans to moderate Democrats, where the divisive issue is Republican social conservatism, which alienates rather than resonates with them.
The suburbs are uncertain this year because of a weak economy, persistent problems in public schools (which are tied to Democrats because of their ties to teachers unions), and a Democratic Party that has shifted significantly to the left. But regardless of how the suburbs vote this year, long-term changes are clear.
An equally clear shift in the opposite direction is happening in working-class areas, what Chicago residents call the “Bungalow Belt,” once home to immigrants from Eastern Europe but now home to second- and third-generation Mexican Americans, Puerto Ricans, and Central American pilgrims.
Trump has emerged as an unlikely champion for this base. He knows they don’t want ideological indoctrination in public schools, or control by teachers unions rather than parents. They want cheaper energy, not overpriced electric cars. And they definitely don’t want some bureaucrat in Bethesda telling them they can’t cook on a gas stove. They rebel against the idea of unelected officials imposing their agenda.
Their resistance is part of a broader, more populist movement that is very different from the Republican Party’s traditional supporters of tax cuts and deregulation. That old base is no longer under the party’s control, as Trump’s leadership has made clear.
But that doesn’t seem so clear to Democratic election consultants. They say what they always say: “Republicans are just trying to help the rich.” This year, that’s not working. Why? Because Donald J. Trump is not George H. W. Bush, and Trump’s party is not Bush’s party.
No matter how hard Democrats try, they cannot convince voters that Trump is a billionaire who disrespects them and is trying to line his own pockets at the expense of his friends. Nor can they apply these labels to today’s Republican Party, which has become a populist, working-class party. And voters know it.
Democrats counter that Trump is a billionaire. Yes, he is, but that label hasn’t hurt him for a few reasons. First, his personality. He effectively presents himself as a regular guy who connects easily with regular people. He knows how to entertain people, and he demonstrates that every time he steps on stage. Second, he didn’t make his money as a banker, stock trader, or middleman. He did something concrete that workers could relate to: he built buildings. It may have been high-end housing or golf clubs, but those were Trump’s consumers, not Trump himself.
It’s just not possible to paint the former president as a country Republican who looks down on country folk. Voters don’t see him that way. Many voters think, “Hey, he’s doing what I would do if I had his money. I’m flying my own plane, I’m putting my own name on it, I’m eating all the Big Macs I want, and I’m tipping the poor man or woman who works behind the counter. What a damn job.”
The best part of Trump’s “no tax on tips” idea is this: He’s telling people to write the message on their bills when they pay. It’s another clever ploy, directly engaging consumers (and voters, of course) and showing their support for both service workers and Trump. Who doesn’t want to say something kind to people who serve others? Trump not only makes it easy to do so, but he makes it clear that doing so gets consumers on his side. Consumers don’t have to wear MAGA hats to do it.
It’s a small ball in a big game. But if the election is close, it will matter. And it proves once again why Trump’s instinct for marketing and handshake showmanship give him such an advantage. His challenge now is to stay disciplined and not set himself up for failure.
This article was originally published by RealClearPolitics and published via RealClearWire.
Charles Lipson is the Peter B. Ritzma Professor of Political Science Emeritus at the University of Chicago, and co-founder and director of the University’s Program in International Politics, Economics, and Security. He is a regular contributor to RealClearPolitics, SpectatorWorld, and other publications.
