Whose Responsibility Is It To Vet A Candidate?
Candidate vetting has changed, and not in a clean or consistent way. What used to be treated as a readiness test has become something more reactive, more partisan, and more difficult to apply with any consistency.
For Democrats, questions of character often become morality tests. The party can seem split over whether the goal is winning seats or upholding standards around conduct, inclusion, honesty, and respect for vulnerable communities. For Republicans in the Trump era, the standard has shifted in a different direction. Conduct that once might have ended a political career is often treated by party leaders and the right wing media ecosystem as background noise, a partisan attack, “fake news,” or even proof that the candidate is willing to fight.
That asymmetry has pushed politics into a situation where one party often struggles over whether enforcing standards is principled or self-defeating, and the other has learned that rejecting accountability is itself a political posture.
Consider the recent controversies involving Jadon MacCormack and Erin Stewart here in Connecticut, and the one still engulfing Graham Platner in his campaign against Susan Collins in Maine. In each, problems were discovered long after a candidate had supposedly been vetted and the campaign was already underway.
Candidate vetting used to be more standardized. A competent campaign manager would ask basic but uncomfortable questions at the start of the relationship. Have you ever been arrested? Are there lawsuits, debts, workplace issues, tax problems, or public records we need to know about? Is there anything in your personal life that could become an issue? What have you said publicly? What would an opponent find if they were trying to damage you?
That checklist is more complicated now because every candidate has a longer and deeper public trail. Social media posts, Reddit comments, podcasts, texts, photos, deleted accounts, screenshots, and old public statements can all become part of the record. A serious campaign now has to do opposition research on its own candidate before the opposition or the media does, and decide whether, how, and when to get ahead of a negative narrative.
The harder question is whether the candidate has enough self-awareness to understand what their own record reveals. Can the candidate explain their own conduct honestly? Do they understand why it matters? Have they changed in a way that is visible and credible? Or are they hoping that voters, endorsers, and party leaders will treat every concern as a distraction once the campaign becomes competitive?
No party should expect perfect candidates or perfect people. If there even is such a thing as a “perfect person,” would we really want him or her to represent us? Or are we better off with imperfect people as candidates, the theory being that they share lived experiences with their constituents?
A serious political culture has to allow for growth, remorse, and change. But there is a difference between a mistake and a pattern, between immaturity and conduct that raises legitimate questions about whether someone can earn trust and represent the public with respect.
Parties and campaigns cannot treat vetting as a problem only until the primary is over. Party establishments often oppose a candidate early, then close ranks once that candidate wins and the campaign turns toward the general election (see: Texas, where that’s exactly what’s happened with winner of the Republican primary for US Senate, Ken Paxton). The consequences of losing elections are real. But parties should be honest about the tradeoff. If the only vetting standard is readiness and electability, then endorsements signal only that the candidate is useful first and responsible or aligned second.
Candidate vetting should not be a purity test, and it should not be a tool party insiders use to block every unconventional candidate. It should be a baseline process for determining whether someone seeking public power is capable of winning it, and has the judgment, honesty, and discipline to hold it.