Kamala Harris’s latest book is pulling back the curtain on a vice presidential debate performance that left her groaning in disbelief.
The New York Post reported that in her new release, "107 Days," Harris unpacks her deep disappointment with Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz’s showing against Sen. JD Vance during their debate on October 1, 2024, revealing a running mate who faltered under pressure and a campaign moment that tested her resolve.
Let’s rewind to the decision that set this stage: Harris’s choice of Walz as her running mate. She mulled over heavyweights like Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, Arizona Sen. Mark Kelly, and former Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg before settling on Walz after a thoughtful moment seasoning a pork roast.
Her senior staff, godson, sister, and brother-in-law all backed Walz, though her husband, Doug Emhoff, leaned toward Shapiro.
Harris made the final call, banking on Walz’s experience as a second-term governor and long-time congressman to carry him through the rough-and-tumble of a national campaign.
Fast forward to the debate prep, and cracks were already showing. Walz confided in Harris that he wasn’t confident in his debating skills, a concern she brushed aside, charmed by his sharp wit at rallies.
“He had fretted from the outset that he wasn’t a good debater,” Harris writes in her book. Her optimism, though, couldn’t prepare her for the reality of watching him stumble on the national stage against a cunning opponent.
Come debate night on October 1, 2024, Harris envisioned Walz as the “closer” for her campaign, especially since she wouldn’t get another shot at debating her own opponent. But instead of sealing the deal, Walz floundered, trapped in a cycle of defending his gubernatorial record.
Worse yet, he botched a key moment when pressed on a claim about being in Hong Kong during the Tiananmen Square protests. Harris watched in frustration as Walz rambled about biking in Nebraska instead of clarifying his timeline mix-up.
Harris didn’t hold back her dismay, turning to Emhoff during the debate with a groan. She saw Vance’s mild-mannered act as a trap, one Walz naively fell into with nods and smiles, missing the chance to push back against thinly veiled attacks.
Harris paints Vance as a “shape-shifter,” whining petulantly while projecting fake bipartisanship—a tactic that threw Walz off his game. It’s a classic move: look friendly, then strike, and Walz, unprepared for such duplicity, couldn’t pivot.
Being the “closer” wasn’t just a role; it was a pressure cooker, and Harris admits it wasn’t a comfortable fit for Walz. She reflects that no amount of experience could fully brace someone for the brutal spotlight of a national debate.
The fallout wasn’t just professional—Harris notes the personal toll on Walz. Unfair attacks on his record stung deeply, affecting his family and testing his resilience in a campaign that spares no punches.
Post-debate, Harris tried to lift Walz’s spirits, reassuring him that one night wouldn’t make or break their efforts, especially since polling barely budged. Still, her book reveals a lingering question: could anyone truly be ready for such a gauntlet?
Even pop culture took a jab, with a “Saturday Night Live” skit showing Harris and Emhoff spitting out wine in shock at Walz’s performance. Harris clarifies she didn’t actually spit out her drink, but the parody underscores how widely noticed the misstep was.
