Republicans Could Learn From J.D. Vance’s Appeal to Compassion

Last week’s vice presidential debate will likely serve as the last chance for voters to compare the two presidential campaigns head-to-head. And the Republican ticket couldn’t have asked for a more polished and professional final word than it got from Sen. J.D. Vance.  

In many ways, he made the pitch for Trumpism to undecided voters more succinctly than anyone, including Trump himself, ever has. He argued convincingly for the government to take a proactive role in buttressing the family, tilting the scales in favor of American workers, prioritizing energy production, and more. 

To put it mildly, whether the policies proposed by the Trump-Vance campaign would accomplish those goals remains open to debate. And Vance himself has had to fight past a too-online persona at times before; one successful night on stage won’t fully erase the memory of “childless cat ladies” in the popular imagination. 

But there’s no question that Vance showcased an ability to channel conservative populism into rhetoric that can appeal widely, a talent that helped fuel his supercharged ascent on the national scene. In the weekly New York Times opinion podcast, columnist Michelle Cottle suggested that, “What we saw in the debate was the J.D. Vance that had made much of the political class fall in love with him, including a lot of more progressive folks.” 

Vance, in his debate performance, represented an ongoing generational shift within the party toward a more muscular approach to conservative federal policymaking. He showed he can talk about social and economic policy in ways that appeal to median voters—and avoid the trap of too-online patois and demeanors that he and other populist Republicans have fallen into before—suggesting an intriguing path forward whatever comes this November. If he can maintain that approach, as my colleague Henry Olsen suggested for the New York Post, he may very well be able to complete Ronald Reagan’s “project of making the Republican Party America’s natural, working-class-dominated, governing party.”

This is unprecedented territory. After all, what Cottle’s praise inadvertently underscores is what made some right-wing Vance critics unhappy: that his ability to appeal to voters beyond the base seemed to be selling out traditional conservative principles. The MAGA-centric website American Greatness worried that beyond his comity and cogency, Vance was giving away the store: “The worst-case scenario is Vance and Walz really do agree that much because to agree with Tim Walz in principle is to eliminate any limiting principle on the size, scope and cost of government.” 

On the topic of abortion, in particular, Vance was dinged by some rock-ribbed pro-life voices for responding to a question with empathy and self-reflection. He talked about knowing working-class women who had unplanned pregnancies, including a friend who he said was watching that night’s debate: 

She told me something a couple years ago, that she felt like if she hadn’t had that abortion, that it would have destroyed her life because she was in an abusive relationship. And I think that what I take from that, as a Republican who proudly wants to protect innocent life in this country, who proudly wants to protect the vulnerable, is that my party, we’ve got to do so much better of a job at earning the American people’s trust back on this issue where they frankly just don’t trust us.

Compare that level of empathy for the difficult circumstances that lead women to consider abortion with some of the tone-deaf comments on reproduction Republican men, including his own running mate, have made over the years. Vance also sought to reframe the GOP, often criticized by abortion advocates as being solely “pro birth,” as authentically pro-family, saying “I want us to make it easier for moms to afford to have babies. I want it to make it easier for young families to afford a home so they can afford a place to raise that family. And I think there’s so much that we can do on the public policy front just to give women more options.”

That’s a vision of the Republican Party I, personally, could get excited about. Some to the right of him, however, sensed not compassion but weakness. Lila Rose, founder of Live Action, said Vance’s “backing down on life is NOT going to help him this election, it’s hurting his debate, and it is morally wrong.” National Review’s Dan McLaughlin said he sounded “weaselly and weak.” The Daily Wire’s Matt Walsh called Vance’s abortion answer “incessantly apologetic,” and later in the debate, Walsh took issue with the premise that the federal government should have a child care approach at all. 

To be sure, Vance had extra reason to be measured in how he came across on issues of reproduction and family formation. In the wake of his vice presidential nomination, past comments about female fertility and the ability of childless leaders to effectively govern had resurfaced, making his reasoned and effective advocacy for his pro-life, pro-family views an act of political necessity. 

But beyond the expediencies of the moment, Vance’s political philosophy lends itself to the kind of earnest discussion of ways to materially support families needed in this post-Roe moment. It’s no secret that conservatives with an eye toward boosting families and protecting the unborn were always in a marriage of convenience with those of a more libertarian or limited-government bent. 

Vance, as his short time in the Senate has indicated, represents a champion for those who would like to see government shore up the family as the basic building block of a healthy society. Polls suggest voters want to see pro-life lawmakers express compassion and support for women in dire circumstances. Doing so is one way to establish your credibility as being fully pro-life, beyond just anti-abortion, and to counter the left-wing stereotype of Republicans obsessed with policing women. Similarly, firmly stating a belief in exceptions for case of rape or incest will doubtless upset some pro-lifers but is a necessary political stand in a world in which polling suggests vast majorities favor permitting abortions in those rare but criminal cases. Vance showed how to address the new reality the pro-life movement faces in a smart and sympathetic way, rather than relying on old arguments that have failed to persuade the majority of Americans who consider themselves pro-choice. 

And—at a time when Donald Trump has been running from the issue—it was a welcome if subtle recommitment to the idea that unborn life is innocent, vulnerable, and worthy of protection. With 10 abortion-related initiatives on ballots around the country this fall, more Republicans at the national level should show Vance’s courage.

It’s also worth noting what Vance didn’t say: He didn’t bring up declining fertility rates, a favorite topic of his. No woman facing an unexpected pregnancy wants to think about long-range demographic trends; she wants to hear what kind of support her family might rely on as they contemplate adding another high chair to the table. His answers on family policy, in which he explicitly spelled out the need to “spend more” to create more “child care options for American families,” emphasized the variety of options parents look for, instead of denigrating for-profit child care or exclusively emphasizing stay-at-home parents.

A more genteel Trumpism still has to deal with Trump: It’s no accident Vance’s weakest moment came when he side-stepped a question about the 2020 election, and his political future would be brighter if he hadn’t put himself in a position where he felt compelled defend his running mate’s inexcusable conduct on January 6. 

Vance’s policy preferences will drive traditional economic conservatives crazy, and his rhetorical gestures to the middle may irk his more doctrinaire fans. But he’s far from the first national Republican figure to recognize the political appeal of leading with compassion. And as National Review’s Mark Wright wrote in the wake of last debate’s performance, Vance’s perspective and attitude could help usher out the conservative focus on shrinking government per se, but rather making it work better and more efficiently.

Wright suggests that, “Out will be Ronald Reagan’s old joke that “the nine most terrifying words in the English language are: ‘I’m from the government, and I’m here to help.'” Instead, he writes, “In will be Florida governor Ron DeSantis’s famous competence at deploying government to clean up in the aftermath of a hurricane. It will be Georgia governor Brian Kemp’s or Virginia governor Glenn Youngkin’s emphasis on making sure that government solves problems.”

That goes for the bread and butter of competent government like better roads and a sounder tax policy, not just the politics of social policy. Republicans who want to do a better job appealing beyond their base should take a page out of Vance’s book—lead with compassion and a recognition that Republicans need to do a better job focusing on policies that can resonate with working-class Americans. 

Successful Republican governors like Kemp, Youngkin, and DeSantis have followed a similar path to victory. And with his career-defining, if not career-saving, performance last week, it’s a playbook Vance himself could have the opportunity to offer to voters in 2028 or beyond.