Five minutes into a rally in Corinth, Mississippi, on Oct. 26, President Trump told the crowd that Democrats “promote the transgender mutilation of your children.” He said comparatively little about the price of gas, which stood above $4.25 a gallon as of Oct. 21, with inflation at 3.7 percent. The order of those priorities captures the Republican Party’s closing argument for the midterms, and it explains why that argument is failing.
Republicans have aired transgender-themed advertisements roughly 217,000 times this cycle, at an estimated cost of $183 million. That is more than they had spent at the same point in 2024, a presidential year. The electorate has asked for nothing of the kind. Only about one in 10 registered voters rank transgender issues among the most important in this election, while roughly eight in 10 cite the economy or the cost of living.
In Texas, which has not elected a Democratic senator since 1988, Republicans nominated Ken Paxton, a candidate burdened by a 2015 securities fraud indictment, an impeachment by the Texas House, and a publicly known affair. Trump’s endorsement of Paxton over the incumbent, John Cornyn, made the race much more competitive than it should be. In a recent poll, Democrat James Talarico leads Paxton 48 to 46 and wins independents 60 to 32. Paxton has responded mostly with identity-politics-infused playground insults, calling his opponent “Six-Gender Jimmy,” “Talafreako” and “Low-T Talarico,” wildly distorting a 2021 comment Talarico made about chromosomal variations. Republicans have poured an estimated $58 million into transgender ads in Texas, more than in any other state.
Michigan follows much the same script. Mike Rogers, who lost to Elissa Slotkin in 2024 by fewer than 20,000 votes, has held few public events while outside groups carry his campaign on the airwaves. Against Democrat Abdul El-Sayed, the Muslim son of Egyptian immigrants, the attacks have concentrated on identity. Trump branded El-Sayed a “RADICAL Extremist, Terrorist Sympathizer,” and Rogers labeled him a would-be “Senator for Palestine,” even though seven in 10 likely voters who call the cost of living extremely important to their vote favor El-Sayed by 13 points. Republicans are now also spending millions on transgender ads in South Carolina, Kansas, Iowa and Mississippi, red states the party would not ordinarily need to defend.
It may seem surprising, then, that Republicans are doubling down on the culture war while barely engaging with the economic strain Americans face. Cultural grievance can energize a base, but when household finances are under pressure, it has consistently been secondary to the economy. In 2020, an incumbent presiding over a pandemic recession lost to a challenger who promised stability. In 2024, voters punished the incumbent party for high inflation and returned Trump to office on the promise of lower prices. Today, 68 percent of Americans disapprove of his handling of the economy, including 37 percent of Republicans. Yet the party’s leaders seem unable to meet the moment.
So why double down? Because the strategy rested on two assumptions, and neither has held. The first was the SAVE Act, which Trump made the party’s top legislative priority. Republicans likely believed that, had it passed, its proof-of-citizenship requirements and restrictions on mail voting would reshape the electorate beyond the reach of Democrats. Yet by May, Senate Majority Leader John Thune conceded, “We don’t have the votes to get rid of the filibuster.”
The second was a quick end to the Iran war. As early as March, Trump promised that the conflict would be over “very soon,” and by his prime-time address in April he was insisting that it was “very close” to completion. Trump and his allies likely expected a swift victory to hand Republicans a rally-around-the-flag moment, with gas prices falling in time for voters to feel the difference by the midterms. That victory is nowhere in sight. Nearly eight months in, with 65 percent of voters disapproving of Trump’s handling of the conflict, the party finds itself without either of the advantages it had counted on: an electorate skewed by new voting rules, or one rallied by a quick and decisive win. With both gone, the culture war is all it has left.
Beyond that lies complacency. Trump has described rising costs as “a very inexpensive price to pay for what we’ve done.” Trump may well see himself as a lame duck with little to gain and little time left, despite his constant projections to the contrary. With no election of his own left to win, he campaigns as though the consequences of his presidency belong to someone else.
This complacency deserves scrutiny, not relief. A party this far behind would ordinarily accept the verdict that follows. This administration, however, has sued Washington, D.C., and at least 21 states for voter data. Trump has also said Republicans should “nationalize” and “take over” elections. Asked whether he would send ICE agents or National Guard troops to polling sites, he replied that he would “do anything necessary,” even though the administration later ruled out mass ICE enforcement at the polls. Thus, the complacency for Trump and Republicans shown this election cycle, then, should not be assumed to carry over or mistaken for a willingness to simply accept the outcome once the results are in.
A culture war may win elections when voters feel secure enough to vote on grievance. This year they do not. They will vote on the cost of their groceries, their rent, and the gallon of gas that manufactured outrage cannot pay for.
The Zeitgeist aims to publish ideas worth discussing. The views presented are solely those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect the views of the editorial board.
