There’s a common misperception about who prosecutors are and what they do. I’m loath to reveal this because, as a former prosecutor myself, it generally works to my advantage. But I’ll pop the balloon.
Contrary to what we’ve all seen in movies and on TV, prosecutors are not, in fact, swashbuckling, badass courtroom gunslingers. Real criminal cases aren’t won with Sleepers-style surprise witnesses, or A Few Good Men–style cross-examination beatdowns, or The Brady Bunch–style spontaneous courtroom demonstrations. In the real world, prosecutors aim to play it straight, drama free, and, if necessary, boring.
In this election season, Vice-President Kamala Harris is relying on her prosecutorial chops — but not how pop culture would condition us to expect. She’s not courting explosive confrontation or looking for mic-drop moments. She’s sticking to primary themes, she’s controlling her own environment, and she’s minimizing risk. Some Democrats desperately want to cast Harris as some striding superhero, but she’s a prosecutorial pragmatist at heart.
Quick story: The night before I gave my first-ever jury address, I asked my supervisor a question that, in retrospect, is cringeworthy: “What exactly am I supposed to be tomorrow? When I stand in front of the jury, how am I supposed to act?” My supervisor managed not to laugh and told me, in essence, this: “Your only job is to be clear and credible. Forget about the emoting and the dramatics. Leave that crap for the defense lawyer. You just put on your case.” Of course, that doesn’t mean a prosecutor must be robotic or boring. But prosecutors usually win with fundamentals, not drama.
Harris must know that. She served as a rank-and-file assistant district attorney, then as the San Francisco district attorney, and finally as California attorney general. She carries those experiences with her now on the campaign trail, and thus far they’ve aided her political ascent in subtle but substantial ways.
Think back to Harris’s hotly anticipated interview on CNN last week, her first since becoming the Democratic nominee. (I’m a CNN contributor.) That interview happened just eight days ago. Do you remember anything specific from it? Did Harris create any moment, any clip, that we’ll see on a loop between now and November? She sat down with Dana Bash, did just fine, and got out of there. She didn’t truly wow anyone. But she got the interview done, she did no harm, and she ended the pesky story line about how she hadn’t faced the media in an unscripted setting. Mission accomplished.
If anything, Harris intentionally walked away from a chance to showboat during the interview. At one point, Bash asked Harris about Trump’s attacks on Harris’s racial identity. The opportunity, and surely the temptation, was right there for Harris to launch into a righteous tirade against Trump’s outrageous tactics. Instead, Harris took the high road. “Same old tired playbook. Next question, please.” Perfect. She passed on the drama, she rose above her opponent’s antics, and she turned the focus right back to the meaningful substance — all in seven words.
Or go back another week, to the Democratic National Convention (which feels like it was six months ago). On the convention’s final night, the arena and social media were abuzz with rumors of a megawatt mystery guest: Beyoncé is going to bring the nominee out, or Taylor Swift will, or maybe both of them together! Instead, the person who immediately preceded Harris on the stage was … centrist Democratic North Carolina governor Roy Cooper. Even watching on TV, you could sense a moment of disappointment sweeping over the crowd: Wait, that’s it? No pop stars? Nope. No sequins or strutting, just the actual person running for the highest office in the land, wearing a navy-blue Chloé pantsuit with a tonal blouse. (I might have looked that up.)
I’m expecting more of the same from Harris when she shares the stage with Trump next week at their first (and probably only) debate. I’m not saying Harris will let Trump get away with whatever he wants; in fact, I bet she’ll have a rhetorical smackdown or two chambered and ready to go. But on the whole, watch for Harris to call on her prosecutorial roots. She’ll aim to stay cool and focused while her opponent rants and seethes and spits bile.
And I don’t think Trump’s inevitable histrionics will bump Harris, either. She has spent much of her career in a courtroom, and trust me: She’s seen worse. (Well, maybe she’s seen equally bad.) I have no idea who will win the debate on the merits and who will articulate a more persuasive vision for their presidency. But I do expect Harris to win on the all-important demeanor test — who looked and acted more calm, more poised, more presidential? Because she knows the prosecutor’s real secret: Leave the drama to the other guy.
This article also appeared in the free CAFE Brief newsletter. You can find more analysis of law and politics from Elie Honig, Preet Bharara, Joyce Vance, and other CAFE contributors at cafe.com.
