American exceptionalism takes a presidential debate hit

The notion of American exceptionalism began to take root nearly 200 years ago, when French historian and political scientist Alexis de Tocqueville wrote glowingly about the relatively new nation after his trip to America in 1831.

The term refers to the belief that the United States is unique and exemplary when compared to other nations. Among the planks cited in support of that argument were our values and our political system. Those “exceptional” qualities were taken to mean — at that time and for the two centuries that followed — that America would be a world leader, and for the good.

And for much of that time, that's largely how things worked out. America was indeed a beacon.

What must the rest of the world be thinking now?

After Thursday night's presidential debate debacle, one can imagine the leaders of other nations wincing in discomfort or grinning with glee, depending on their geopolitical alliances.

Their calculus would go something like this: America has the world's strongest economy and its most powerful military, remains the destination of choice for people worldwide looking for a better place to live, and is home to more than 330 million people. And this is the best it can do? What has become of our vaunted values and our political system?

One candidate is physically and cognitively diminished. The other is a morally bankrupt convicted felon with cognitive challenges of his own. On top of those frightening realities are the troubling optics. Are these two men metaphors for a nation in decline? Avatars of a country that has lost its way? Or are they hiccups in a system that has worked fairly well for nearly 250 years?

There is a danger in being impressed with one's own press clippings, as many an actor or athlete can attest, if you stop doing the things that brought you that positive attention. America can only continue to be exceptional if its people demand that quality from their political parties and leaders — and from themselves.

We have had bad choices and deficient leaders before, of course. But this feels different. Especially after the CNN faceoff.

President Joe Biden seemed enfeebled. He wouldn't be the first president to battle such limitations, but he would have to do that for more than four more years against the realities of aging that only grind harder with time.

Donald Trump showed that his willingness to prevaricate has only grown, if that's possible, to the point where truth is not merely optional, it's eschewed. Such derangement is a danger domestically and on the world stage, where consequences could be dire.

Filling out the unsettling picture is the principal electoral alternative, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., an anti-vaccination conspiracy theorist whose own prominent family has politically disowned him.

Both major party candidates are classic examples of American hubris, a quality that is perhaps an inevitable but certainly unfortunate byproduct of American exceptionalism. Trump's hubris is thinking that he is the only person who can fix things and that he can do so easily. Biden's hubris is thinking that he is the only person who can beat Trump, just because he did it once.

Our hubris would be failing to understand that what lies before us isn't just a choice between two poor candidates. It isn't simply about what's lacking in these two men. It's what their presence on that debate stage in Atlanta as the two principal contenders for the most important job in the world says about the notion that we are an exceptional nation.

The rest of the world might not be laughing at us, as Trump falsely claims. But after Thursday night, they surely would be forgiven for wondering what it means to be exceptional.

Columnist Michael Dobie's opinions are his own.

By Michael Dobie

michael.dobie@newsday.commwdobie

Michael Dobie is a member of the Newsday editorial board.