Tucker Carlson’s Third-Party Push Is Taking Shape, Mark Halperin Says

Tucker Carlson appears to have caught another bout of Christopher Columbus syndrome.

In a news cycle already packed with noise — the country’s semiquincentennial festivities, a blockbuster celebrity wedding, major Supreme Court decisions and a stunning World Cup suspension — one of America’s most prominent podcasters still managed to draw attention.

‘There’s going to be a third party and I’m going to do everything I can to bring that about,’ Carlson told the Columbia Journalism Review on July 1.

‘There should be a good-faith effort to figure out what benefits the country,’ he said. ‘If you make sixty thousand dollars a year, you’re degraded. Your life expectancy has gone down and the promise of your children’s lives is likely gone… The US government should have, as its first priority, the welfare of its own people.

‘I’m going to help build a third party.’

I’ll take that seriously when there is something tangible to show for it.

America has seen third-party and independent hopefuls rise and fade before — Ross Perot, Ralph Nader and, more recently, RFK Jr. among them — usually leaving behind little more than a spoiler label. Taking on the country’s entrenched two-party system demands a level of vision, operational discipline, funding and long-term commitment that Carlson has not yet demonstrated.

Still, if you set aside the theatrical self-importance, Carlson is putting his finger on a reality that many elites in Washington, New York, Silicon Valley and the national media routinely overlook: America is once again entering a New World.

The political earthquakes of the last decade – the rise of Donald Trump, the Tea Party and MAGA, Bernie Sanders and the Democratic Socialists of America – did not happen because the country’s citizens suddenly and impulsively spiraled.

These seismic shifts happened because much of America’s establishment stopped listening, even as the material conditions in the country and the consequent levels of pessimism and fear markedly changed.

Whatever Carlson is now claiming to have discovered, Trump and Sanders recognized years ago.

The two men inhabit totally different political universes, but when they agree on an issue – pay attention. It usually signals something shifting beneath the traditional left-right divide.

Some areas of Trump-Sanders agreement: Americans are ripped off on prescription drug prices; decades of free-trade orthodoxy hollowed out the country’s industrial base; China has taken shameful advantage of the US economically; federal government ownership stake in private companies makes sense as a matter of fairness and financial strength.

Pay close attention to controversial strategist and populist firebrand Steve Bannon, too.

You don’t have to embrace his worldview to recognize that, on questions of economic anxiety and the national mood, he often identifies political currents long before many establishment analysts weigh in.

Americans have grown deeply suspicious of institutions that once commanded nationwide trust. Government. Universities. The media. Big business. Wall Street. Silicon Valley. Public health authorities. Even philanthropy.

Whether that distrust is fully justified is almost beside the point. It exists, it is growing and it has become the central organizing force of modern politics. That lack of credibility of elites helps explain why movements as different as MAGA and democratic socialism both have attracted passionate followings.

Their policy prescriptions often diverge dramatically, of course, yet their diagnosis of the country’s problems frequently overlap; powerful economic interests have rigged the system and ordinary Americans have been ignored.

Both promise to disrupt an establishment that many voters no longer believe deserves the benefit of the doubt.

If you fail to understand that common thread, you’ll keep wondering why voters continue making choices that surprise the experts, the mainstream, the complacent, the status quo-ers.

Economic inequality is a related part of that story as well. Americans disagree vehemently about taxes, regulation and redistribution. But across ideological lines there is growing unease about the concentration of wealth and power. That concern isn’t confined to progressive activists or conservative populists anymore.

Look at another emerging fault line: artificial intelligence, where both Trump and Sanders are among those who have weighed in.

Much of the national conversation has focused on whether AI will replace jobs or create fabulous new wealth, or both. Increasingly, another question is emerging: who bears the costs?

Across the country, proposals to build massive data centers are encountering fierce local resistance. Residents worry about electricity consumption, water use, environmental impacts, property values and quality of life.

The technology companies developing these projects understandably are emphasizing innovation and economic growth in their pitches and spin. But politicians who dismiss local concerns as backward or anti-progress may discover they’re misreading the significance.

Foreign policy reflects similar changes.

After Iraq and Afghanistan, Americans across much of the political spectrum have developed an enduring skepticism toward long military engagements overseas. That sentiment now shapes both parties far more than many Washington foreign-policy veterans seem willing to acknowledge. Leaders who ignore that reality do so at considerable political risk.

The debate over Israel illustrates another misunderstanding. Many commentators instinctively interpret every controversy primarily through the lens of antisemitism.

Antisemitism unquestionably exists and remains a serious problem that has become intense. But much of the current political energy is being driven by macro anti-establishment attitudes, skepticism toward foreign aid and frustration with longstanding foreign policy consensus.

Perhaps the biggest blind spot, though, is cultural.

Political professionals spend enormous energy parsing candidates’ rhetoric. They obsess over every Trump insult, every social media post, every daily outrage. Voters often don’t.

Many Americans have become remarkably adept at filtering out Trump’s exaggerations, personal attacks and theatrical flourishes. What they focus on instead are his positions on immigration, crime, trans rights and other cultural issues.

Members of the old-school media appear ceaselessly triggered by the dramatics, while citizens focus on the substance. That’s one reason so many supposedly shocking election outcomes become perfectly understandable once the votes are counted.

The establishment keeps hearing the performance.

The electorate keeps hearing the message.

None of this means populists are always right. They aren’t. Nor does it mean establishment institutions are always wrong. They aren’t either. It simply means that understanding politics requires something increasingly rare in American public life: intellectual humility.

The surest way to misunderstand the country is to assume you already understand it.

America has a habit of surprising the people who are most certain they’ve figured it out. That’s been one of the defining political lessons of the past decade. And I suspect it’s going to remain one of the defining political lessons of the next.

Welcome to the party, Mr Carlson.

You’re a tad late.