As a social scientist who has attended to JD Vance’s writing as part of my research, I was surprised when Trump selected him as his running mate. Vance’s memoir, Hillbilly Elegy, is one of the case studies in my ongoing research study on globalization at the intersection of various cross-border crises through selected case countries: the United States, the United Kingdom and China.
Like Vron Ware’s Return of a Native and Peter Hessler’s River Town, both of which are also part of my research, Vance’s book presents an ethnographic account of the effects of economic globalization on small communities, focusing on post-industrial Appalachian communities and his hometown of Middletown, Ohio.
His story reflects my research findings: peripheral regions — be it the Rust Belt in the U.S., the English countryside or the Chinese river town of Fuling — are never immune to the “slow violence” of global capitalism, which is less visible at the centre of power.
Aside from Ohio’s historical status as a swing state, Vance and Trump seemed to be from very different worlds. However, I realized how wrong I was when I heard Vance’s acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention on July 17.
It mirrored Trump’s speech the following day with its hierarchical thinking, xenophobia, oversimplified or intentionally misleading explanations of the world economy, and empty promises. It also assured me that Vance, despite his background as a young, highly educated person from a working-class family, is unlikely to draw voters beyond Trump’s established base.
Vance’s American dream
Vance’s speech echoed the familiar promise to “make America great again” and restore “what America once was.” However, his new version of the American dream excludes many, including those “who shouldn’t even be here” and “millions of illegal aliens.”
The American dream, in Vance’s speech, is the dream of ordinary people, whom he predominantly describes as deserving, tough, Christian, American citizens. Of course, Vance himself not only qualifies for, but exemplifies this dream.
As does Trump, who Vance described as an ordinary “real estate developer from New York City” who will heroically rescue the nation from various villains. While Trump’s list of villains was long, Vance focused largely on the American economy and the manufacturing jobs that were lost to deindustrialization decades ago.
Vance blamed Biden, Mexico, China and, briefly, multinational corporations for sending or taking American jobs away, but failed to mention that the profits from these jobs still funnel back to wealthier countries like the U.S., where these corporations are based. He also neglected to mention the increasing number of manufacturing jobs that have been lost to automation.
More striking is Vance’s gender nostalgia. Since Trump’s 2016 campaign, the role of women has been central to MAGA’s rhetoric, emphasizing a return to traditional family structures and values. Vance promotes the notion of the heteronormative family, consisting of working men and women as homemakers or caregivers.
He presents himself and Trump as loving family men and relegates his female family members, including his wife, to secondary roles. While this ideal may appeal to some women, it is divisive because it turns women’s rights — including reproductive rights — into a battlefield of the culture war and partisan politics.
The neglected and the ambivalent
Vance’s speech carefully avoided race, despite constantly mentioning other identity signifiers like religion and gender. In a country where racism remains a key issue, this omission proves MAGA’s delusion and reveals its political strategy to ignore racial inequalities. It also suggests a covert longing for a past marked by racial hierarchy, anti-immigrant attitudes and populist nationalism.
Climate change was also absent from Vance’s speech. He did not address the wildfires in California, Hurricane Beryl in the Caribbean or other disasters that have exposed the vulnerability of ill-prepared major cities. This is a glaring oversight, as climate change could displace around 1.2 billion people by 2050.
Vance’s speech was also ambiguous on many key questions crucial for MAGA. What does the American past, which has been glorified by MAGA, actually consist of? There was deafening silence on the lasting consequences of its slavery system and American imperialism.
How feasible is it to put America first in the context of highly integrated global production chains? Relocating factories and jobs to the U.S. in a low-wage, deregulated economy is complex and costly, and AI is poised to disrupt middle-class, white-collar jobs.
The new technological economy has accelerated the polarization of opportunities and wealth between those with technical know-how and those without — not just in the U.S., but globally.
If Vance had spent less time on MAGA rhetoric, it might have given him time to address other urgent domestic and global issues, such as issues affecting Indigenous people, LGBTQ+ communities, gun violence, inflation, social isolation and youth unemployment. Doing so might have enabled his party to get closer to uniting the nation, as they claim is their purpose, rather than further dividing it.
Out of touch
Vance’s version of the American dream is unlikely to resonate with many because it is out of touch with the diverse realities of the American people, the globalized economy, multiple and accumulating crises, and the shared challenges humanity faces — natural disasters, pandemics, misinformation, AI insecurity and unemployment — in an interconnected world.
That version is certainly now challenged by the nomination of Kamala Harris, a racialized woman standing firmly in the spotlight. No matter the result of the election, her achievements are an inspiration to women.
As a politician with first-hand experience of being left behind and the hardship that goes with it, Vance had the chance to tell stories about loss and resilience, instead of focusing on melancholia and self-victimization. He could have addressed the contradiction, for example, between relying on the less privileged while mobilizing prejudice against them, and promoted unity based on common struggles rather than exclusion.
Yanqiu Rachel Zhou receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) of Canada.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
