Republican vice presidential nominee Sen. JD Vance, left, and Democratic...

Republican vice presidential nominee Sen. JD Vance, left, and Democratic vice presidential nominee Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, before the CBS News debate, Tuesday in Manhattan. Credit: AP/Julia Demaree Nikhinson

Suddenly this season, the vice-presidency became a very big deal.

In a first-ever postprimary switch, President Joe Biden yielded the top slot on the Democratic ballot to Vice President Kamala Harris.

Nearly four years ago came a different vice-presidential surprise. President Donald Trump turned on Mike Pence and dangerously denounced him for failing to support the White House plot to overturn the 2020 election results. 

In federal court filings Wednesday, Special Counsel Jack Smith cited in court eye-popping grand jury testimony: When an aide told Trump on Jan. 6, 2021 that Pence faced danger from a violent MAGA mob, the president replied, "So what?"

So much for the cliché that all vice presidents are condemned to linger in the shadows.

Usually, the debate between VP candidates has little discernible impact on vote results. In 1988, Democratic presidential nominee Mike Dukakis picked elder Sen. Lloyd Bentsen as his running mate against Vice President George H.W. Bush’s number-two, Dan Quayle.

Bentsen’s memorable put-down of Quayle, "You’re no Jack Kennedy" (you had to be there), raced through the pre-internet news media and lifted the "out" party’s spirits. But on Election Day, Bentsen’s perceived "win" in that debate meant nothing. Bush crushed Dukakis in the Electoral College, 426 to 111, and in the popular vote by 7 million.

On Tuesday night, the opposing veep contenders, first-term Ohio Sen. JD Vance and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, met for a 90-minute CBS debate. Moderators asked relevant questions about the U.S. border crisis, wars abroad, and climate disasters down south. Candidates dodged or spun answers. Plenty of fact-checks were issued. One surprising feature: The contenders were civil and mostly showed mutual respect.

For his part, Vance, 40, danced as graceful a dance of loyalty to his boss as anyone in his chosen position could, given the body of ugly facts he had to finesse. As a running mate, Vance could not simply call Trump’s stolen-election claim the destabilizing lie that it was.

Tactically, Vance did seem to defend Trump and his views more intelligibly than Trump defends himself. Vance was asked by Norah O’Donnell at CBS if he’d support challenging election results even if all the governors had certified them. His reply: "Look, what President Trump has said is that there were problems in 2020, and my own belief is that we should fight about those issues, debate those issues peacefully in the public square."

Walz reacted with the demeanor of a football coach ready to throw a red flag from the sidelines. He called Vance’s sanitizing of Jan. 6 as part of a peaceful transition "troubling" as were Trump's recent threats to jail political opponents.

"Here we are, four years later, in the same boat," Walz said. "I will tell you that when this is over, we need to shake hands this election, and the winner needs to be the winner. This has got to stop. It's tearing our country apart."

For dramatic purposes, Vance came out of the scrum as the more interesting player, sounding sharp, aggressive, and more thoughtful than the running mate he once openly called "reprehensible" and "an idiot."

If Trump, who’s 78, loses again this year, Vance could well be the Republican to beat in 2028. If that's the case, Vance wouldn’t be manacled to the "eating-your-pets," "Hannibal Lecter" silliness of his patron's rants. Even if we soon forget about this debate, Vance may have already advanced his own GOP future.

Columnist Dan Janison's opinions are his own.