Ron DeSantis was destined to become Scott Walker 2.0
“Donald J. Trump plumbed new depths of degradation in his savage takedown of Gov. Ron DeSantis of Florida, a yearlong campaign of emasculation and humiliation that helped force one of the party’s rising stars out of the presidential race after just one contest and left him to pick up the pieces of his political future.”
So began a New York Times analysis—or obituary, if you will—on the now-defunct presidential campaign of the latest Former Guy from Florida.
My response to it? Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.
Indeed, I record these thoughts with no small measure of schadenfreude. Ron DeSantis, like Donald Trump, is a uniquely vile man. He inflicted what may well prove to be irreparable damage upon his state, all in futile service of unbridled personal ambition. (Has he figured out yet—perhaps through his war on Disney, his six-week abortion ban, his voter suppression, or his so-called “Stop WOKE Act”—how to solve, say, Florida’s insurance crisis?)
While perusing the various postmortems this week following DeSantis’ announcement that he was suspending his long-suffering bid for the White House, I came across one that compared him to another governor and erstwhile presidential hopeful from the Sunshine State, Jeb Bush.
The comparison is apt, but as long as we’re on the topic, I’d like to throw out yet one more for consideration: former Wisconsin governor and 2016 GOP presidential contender Scott Walker.
I long suspected that this similarity might ultimately take shape, despite some prognostications to the contrary. Take, for example, this February 2023 editorial from Nate Cohn, which hasn’t aged terribly well over the past year:
…At least at the beginning of the race, Mr. DeSantis is no Scott Walker. He would start the campaign in a very different and far stronger position, even if there is still no way to know whether he “has what it takes” to succeed against former President Donald J. Trump.
What sets Mr. DeSantis apart from Mr. Walker? It’s pretty straightforward: how many people already say they want him to be president.
To be fair, that was true, at least at the time. DeSantis consistently polled better than Scott Walker, and he got further: Walker never even made it close to the Iowa caucuses in 2016.
But honestly, that’s where the major differences end.
Both men found noteworthy electoral success in their respective states, which was largely responsible for fueling not just the unfounded hype around their candidacies but the narcissistic inclinations they each had that formed the basis of them.
Granted, Walker never won Wisconsin by nearly as large a margin as DeSantis did in Florida in 2022, but that’s mostly because Wisconsin was never as red as Florida. It’s more important to remember that Walker not only easily won re-election in 2014; he also survived a recall attempt in 2012, less than two years after he was first elected and the same year during which Wisconsin later voted to re-elect Barack Obama by a comfortable margin.
Like DeSantis, he leveraged his office to exact harm upon his state that won’t soon if ever be repaired, and like DeSantis, he achieved it almost entirely because he was dealing with a compliant, deeply gerrymandered legislature controlled by his own party.
Nevertheless, like DeSantis, he used this built-in, unearned advantage to claim that he was a competent conservative who could deliver “results”—or “bold reforms,” as he would often euphemistically put it. Relatedly, both men, particularly as their presidential ambitions became clear, worked in overdrive to cast themselves as Mr. Tough Guy, my-way-or-the-highway, never-back-down types who were up against Big Bad Elites or the “mob.” Sound familiar?
But of course, for both Walker and DeSantis, the façade crumbled as soon as they left the safety of their carefully curated, controlled settings in Madison and Tallahassee. Turns out both have personalities and stage presences about as captivating and likable as a used wet sponge; both have voices that grate on the ears. DeSantis sounds a bit like he just sucked on a helium balloon; Walker perpetually sounds like he’s getting over a head cold.
More importantly, both men brought pet issues to their campaigns that they apparently thought would make them stand out, but which, in both cases, landed with a thud. Voters at large weren’t impressed by Scott Walker’s union busting in Wisconsin. (Remember when he compared fighting pro-union protesters to fighting ISIS?) They also didn’t care about Ron DeSantis’ pledge to “fight the woke,” whatever the hell that means.
But it’s the aftermath of their failed presidential candidacies where the comparisons potentially become most delicious.
Remember, just a handful of years after he ran for president, Scott Walker lost re-election to a third term as governor of Wisconsin. And then he promptly faded into obscurity. Does anyone know where he is or what he’s up to these days? Does he have a job? I wouldn’t know without looking it up, and I don’t care enough to do that. All I care is that he’s no longer relevant and no longer holds any clout. Just like his fellow Wisconsinite, Paul Ryan.
Similarly, just a couple years from now, in January 2027, Ron DeSantis’ time as governor of Florida will expire. He can’t run again for that office in 2026 because of term limits. What’s more, neither of Florida’s Senate seats is open that year, so he can’t run for one of those to burnish his credentials or bide his time until 2028, when he clearly hopes to run for president again.
So, absent the bully pulpit (emphasis on “bully”) of the Florida governorship, what if DeSantis does indeed throw his hat in the ring again four years from now?
By then, nearly two years removed from public office and with already one dud of a presidential campaign behind him, he’ll be very, very old news. Moreover, if in 2024 he has a repellent personality and lacks the requisite political skills to succeed on the national stage, there’s no reason to think he’ll somehow manage to repair those liabilities by 2028.
Scott Walker was never going to run for president again after his first failed attempt. Eventually, Ron DeSantis will likely see the writing on the wall and won’t either. But even if he does, it’s even more likely that he’ll fail again. Which is great. Because he’s awful.
As I’ve mentioned already, the election year ahead carries deep, deep peril, and with the New Hampshire results now in, the most dangerous individual of all is already the de facto Republican nominee.
But I have to say: It doesn’t feel bad that the repugnant Ron DeSantis—who arguably could have been just as terrible, had he found success—is going the way of Scott Walker.
Not bad at all.
