You can’t negotiate with narcissism.
Sometimes you do things that make you feel ashamed. It was the first day of the Republican convention in 2012 and I had nothing to write about, so I wrote a humor column mocking the Romney family for being perfect in every way. It was a hit with readers, but the afternoon it was published I crossed path with two of Mitt Romney’s sons, and they looked at me with hurt in their eyes, which pierced me. I’d ridiculed people for the sin of being admirable.
A few years later, before he was a senator, Romney asked me to come out to Utah to give a talk to a group he was convening. It’s a pain to write a speech and get on a plane, but I did it in penance for my sins. Of course, all the Romneys were lovely to me, as is their nature. And I learned a lesson: The partisans may applaud if you ridicule those you admire, of any political stripe, but stay faithful to them.
We all struggle to be the best version of ourselves we can be, and Romney’s struggle is now taking him into retirement and out of the Senate. On the way he gave us a gift, in the form of a series of conversations with The Atlantic’s McKay Coppins, who has written a book on him, excerpted in the magazine.
Romney puts on the record what so many of us have been hearing for years off the record — that the Republican Party has become a party of fakers, that its congressional leaders laugh at Donald Trump contemptuously behind his back while swooning over him before the cameras.
Mitch McConnell is the tragic figure in Romney’s tale. He comes across as — and I believe actually is — a decent man who is trying to mitigate the worst of Trump’s effect on his party. But we see the daily corrosions that McConnell must endure to keep up this front — turning a blind eye to Trump’s crimes, turning a blind eye to the threats that were coming in the lead-up to Jan 6.
