platner

After a decade of Trumpism, it should come as no surprise that President Trump’s ethos (presenting scandal as strength, outrage as authenticity and public disgrace as evidence you’re a “fighter”) has trickled down into congressional campaigns of both parties.

In Maine, for example, controversial oysterman and veteran Graham Platner, a Democrat, appears poised to face Republican Sen. Susan Collins, after incumbent Gov. Janet Mills’ failure to launch led her to drop out of the Senate primary.

Under old “pre-Trump” rules, Platner’s campaign would have withered instantly after revelations that he once had a Totenkopf SS tattoo, previously identified himself as a communist, said Black people were poor tippers, and wrote that white people “actually are” as racist and stupid as Trump thinks they are.

Instead, after all this surfaced, Platner actually rose in the polls. Considering the circumstances, there are several reasonable explanations for this.

Maybe Maine Dems have concluded that moral purity tests are politically suicidal after years of watching heterodox figures like Joe Rogan and Elon Musk drift away from the party.

Maybe Platner’s rough-edged outsider persona simply feels more authentic than another interchangeable politician in a pantsuit droning on about “working families.”

Perhaps the difference is that, unlike Trump or Texas’ scandal-plagued Republican Atty. Gen. Ken Paxton, Platner has at least attempted contrition.

Or maybe Maine Democrats have absorbed the same lesson Republicans adopted in 2016: Once voters stop treating scandal as disqualifying, policing your own side for off-the-field behavior starts to look like unilateral disarmament.

I mean, who could blame them for thinking you’ve got to fight fire with fire? America, after all, reelected Trump after 34 felony convictions.

At a certain point, continuing to insist that “character matters” starts sounding like advice Ward Cleaver might have offered Wally on “Leave It to Beaver.”

But Maine isn’t the only example of voters viewing scandalous behavior as a “keeping it real” feature, not a bug.

Another just took place in Texas, when the aforementioned Paxton crushed normie incumbent Sen. John Cornyn in a Republican primary runoff, garnering nearly 64% of the vote.

Paxton, it’s worth noting, was previously indicted on felony securities fraud charges, impeached by the Texas House on allegations including bribery, accused by senior aides of abusing his office to help a donor and real-estate developer and accused by his wife (a Texas Republican politician) of infidelity, just to name a few of his greatest hits.

Yet, not only did the scandals not doom Paxton, they probably helped him. They signaled a willingness to fight, casting him as both a victim and an outsider. There may be no purer expression of trickle-down Trumpism than Paxton, which probably explains why Trump endorsed him.

At this point, you might be thinking that all is lost. But there are counterexamples that lend to optimism.

Paxton’s Democratic opponent in Texas, for example, offers a stark contrast, as well as an opportunity to test the level of our societal decline in November.

Texas Democrats could easily have nominated their own chaos agent in Rep. Jasmine Crockett, a progressive firebrand whose flair for viral combat suggests she understands the incentives of modern politics perfectly well.

Instead, they chose James Talarico — a young state legislator, former middle-school teacher and Presbyterian seminarian — who projects the kind of earnest optimism that lands somewhere between Barack Obama and Pete Buttigieg.

If a Democrat like Talarico can win in deep-red Texas — against a scandal-plagued candidate who shouldn’t get within 10 miles of the U.S. Capitol — it will perhaps provide a modicum of hope that red lines still exist, and that some voters still believe character is destiny.

But regardless of who wins that matchup, the fact that both Paxton in Texas and Platner in Maine emerged as their party’s respective Senate candidates (Platner won’t technically be the Democratic nominee until after the Maine primary in June) still suggests something profound has shifted in American politics.

Not long ago, the scandals attached to either man would have ended a campaign overnight.

Today, they function more like résumé enhancements. Because the defining lesson of the Trump era may be this: Nothing is disqualifying anymore.

If a failed nepo baby and middling reality-TV star can become president, survive endless scandals (think “Access Hollywood”), rack up felony convictions, be found liable for sexual abuse, sit by and watch a Capitol riot, and then return to power anyway, traditional ideas about character and electability are simply no longer relevant.

The question now is whether Trumpism has become America’s permanent political operating system — or whether the new rules apply only to Trump himself.

November will offer some hints.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”

PORTLAND, Maine — Republican U.S. Sen. Susan Collins says she has a benign essential tremor, disclosing the longtime health condition for the first time in her decades-long political career as she seeks reelection in one of this year’s toughest Senate races.

Collins first confirmed the tremor to WCSH-TV in Maine on Wednesday after facing questions about her health from appearances in recent videos, including her campaign announcement video.

The condition causes trembling in Collins’ hands, head and voice, and she said she has had it for the entirety of her nearly three-decade Senate career. It affects millions of Americans over the age of 40 and “does not interfere” with work, Collins said in a Thursday statement to the Associated Press. She said it is not a neurodegenerative condition.

“The tremor is occasionally inconvenient, and sometimes the subject of cruel comments online, but it does not hinder my ability to work and, as I said, is something that I have lived with for decades,” the statement said.

Health issues and candidates’ ages have drawn increased scrutiny in high-profile elections following Democratic President Joe Biden’s decision not to seek reelection in 2024 at age 81. Those questions have only lingered with Republican President Trump, who’s 79 and in recent months has been seen with bruising on the back of his hand, sometimes concealed with makeup. The White House acknowledged last year that Trump was diagnosed with chronic venous insufficiency.

Collins is up for reelection in a seat Democrats need to flip to have a chance to take back the Senate. Her likely opponent is Democrat Graham Platner, an oyster farmer and combat veteran, after Democratic Gov. Janet Mills suspended her campaign last week. Age has been an issue in the contest, with Collins, 73, and Mills, 78, more than three decades older than Platner, 41.

Platner acknowledged early in his campaign his own health problems. He has spoken openly about chronic pain in his shoulder and knees stemming from combat service, and he has said he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder after serving at war. Platner has said he has a 100% disability rating from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs but continues to work as an oyster farmer.

“There are a lot of disabled combat veterans, or just disabled vets, at 100%, who still work,” Platner told WCSH last year. “It’s a very normal thing.”

Collins was first elected to the Senate in 1996 and said in her statement that she has had the condition for all of that time. Over the years, the condition has been noticeable in Collins’ debates and frequent public appearances.

As chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee, Collins has been at the forefront of the chamber’s many spending disputes this Congress, often leading the floor debate and providing the GOP’s closing arguments. She frequently engages with reporters in the hallways. Her streak of never missing a Senate vote is up to 9,966 and stands as the second-longest consecutive voting streak in the chamber’s history.

Tremors happen when nerves aren’t properly communicating with certain muscles. Essential tremor, sometimes called benign essential tremor, is one of the most common movement disorders, according to the National Institutes of Health.

The risk of developing it increases as people get older, but at least half of cases are inherited, meaning the tremor runs in the family, and those tend to begin at younger ages. It almost always involves shaky or trembling hands but also can affect the head, voice or lower limbs.

Whittle and Kruesi write for the Associated Press. Kruesi reported from Providence, R.I. AP writers Kevin Freking and Lauran Neergaard in Washington contributed to this report.