former vice president

Democrats, despite their hypersensitive, bleeding-heart reputation, can be harsh. Ruthless, even.

When it comes to picking their presidential nominee, it’s often one and done. Walter Mondale, Michael Dukakis, Al Gore and John Kerry were embraced and then, after leading their party to disappointing defeat, cast off like so many wads of wet tissue.

Compare that with Republicans, who not only believe in second chances but, more often than not, seem to prefer their presidential candidates recycled. Over the last half century, all but a few of the GOP’s nominees have had at least one failed White House bid on their resume.

The roster of retreads includes the current occupant of the Oval Office, who is only the second president in U.S. history to regain the perch after losing it four years prior.

Why the difference? It would take a psychologist or geneticist to determine if there’s something in the minds or molecular makeup of party faithful, which could explain their varied treatment of those humbled and vanquished.

Regardless, it suggests the blowback facing Kamala Harris and the campaign diary she published last week is happening right on cue.

And it doesn’t portend well for another try at the White House in 2028, should the former vice president and U.S. senator from California pursue that path.

The criticism has come in assorted flavors.

Joe Biden loyalists — many of whom were never great fans of Harris — have bristled at her relatively mild criticisms of the obviously aged and physically declining president. (She leaves it to her husband, former Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff, to vent about the “impossible, s— jobs” Harris was given and, in spite of that, the failure of the president and first lady to defend Harris during her low points.)

The notable lack of self-blame has rankled other Democrats. Aside from some couldas and shouldas, Harris largely ascribes her defeat to insufficient time to make her case to voters — just 107 days, the title of her book — which hardly sits well with those who feel Harris squandered the time she did have.

More generally, some Democrats fault the former vice president for resurfacing, period, rather than slinking off and disappearing forever into some deep, dark hole. It’s a familiar gripe each time the party struggles to move past a presidential defeat; Hillary Clinton faced a similar backlash when she published her inside account after losing to Donald Trump in 2016.

That critique assumes great masses of voters devour campaign memoirs with the same voracious appetite as those who surrender their Sundays to the Beltway chat shows, or mainline political news like a continuous IV drip.

They do not.

Let the record show Democrats won the White House in 2020 even though Clinton bobbed back up in 2017 and, for a short while, thwarted the party’s fervent desire to “turn the page.”

But there are those avid consumers of campaigns and elections, and for the political fiends among us Harris offers plenty of fizz, much of it involving her party peers and prospective 2028 rivals.

Pete Buttigieg, the meteoric star of the 2020 campaign, was her heartfelt choice for vice president, but Harris said she feared the combination of a Black woman and gay running mate would exceed the load-bearing capacity of the electorate. (News to me, Buttigieg said after Harris revealed her thinking, and an underestimation of the American people.)

Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, the runner-up to Harris’ ultimate vice presidential pick, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, comes across as unseemly salivating and greedily lusting after the job. (He fired back by suggesting Harris has some splainin’ to do about what she knew of Biden’s infirmities and when she knew it.)

Harris implies Govs. JB Pritzker and Gretchen Whitmer of Illinois and Michigan, respectively, were insufficiently gung-ho after Biden stepped aside and she became the Democratic nominee-in-waiting.

But for California readers, the most toothsome morsel involves Harris’ longtime frenemy, Gov. Gavin Newsom.

The two, who rose to political power in the early 2000s on parallel tracks in San Francisco, have long had a complicated relationship, mixing mutual aid with jealousy and jostling.

In her book, Harris recounts the hours after Biden’s sudden withdrawal, when she began telephoning top Democrats around the country to lock in their support. In contrast to the enthusiasm many displayed, Newsom responded tersely with a text message: “Hiking. Will call back.”

He never did, Harris noted, pointedly, though Newsom did issue a full-throated endorsement within hours, which the former vice president failed to mention.

It’s small-bore stuff. But the fact Harris chose to include that anecdote speaks to the tetchiness underlying the warmth and fuzziness that California’s two most prominent Democrats put on public display.

Will the two face off in 2028?

Riding the promotional circuit, Harris has repeatedly sidestepped the inevitable questions about another presidential bid.

“That’s not my focus right now,” she told Rachel Maddow, in a standard-issue non-denial denial. For his part, Newsom is obviously running, though he won’t say so.

There would be something operatic, or at least soap-operatic, about the two longtime competitors openly vying for the country’s ultimate political prize — though it’s hard to see Democrats, with their persistent hunger for novelty, turning to Harris or her left-coast political doppelganger as their savior.

Meantime, the two are back on parallel tracks, though seemingly headed in opposite directions.

While Newsom is looking to build Democratic bridges, Harris is burning hers down.

When Kamala Harris left the White House, she was trailed by three big questions.

She’s now answered two of them.

First off, the former vice president will not be running for California governor in 2026. After months of will-or-won’t-she speculation, the Democrat took a pass on a race that was Harris’ to lose because, plainly, her heart just wasn’t into a return to Sacramento.

On Wednesday, with publication of the first excerpts from her 2024 campaign diary, Harris answered a second question: What kind of book — candid or pablum-filled — would she produce?

The answer flows directly to the third and largest remaining question, whether Harris attempts a third try for the White House in 2028.

If she does, and the portions published Wednesday by the Atlantic magazine give no clue one way or the other, she’ll have some work to do mollifying the person who made her vice president, thus vaulting Harris to top-tier status should she run again.

That would be one Joe Biden.

Harris’ book — “107 Days” — recounts the shortest presidential campaign in modern U.S. history.

It’s no tell-all.

Surely, there’s a good deal of inside dope, juicy gossip and backstage intrigues that Harris is holding back for political, personal or practical reasons.

Still, it’s a tell-plenty.

The headline-grabbiest passage is Harris’ suggestion that Biden, felled by a thoroughly wretched debate performance that showed the ravages of his advanced age, should have stepped aside before being effectively forced off the Democratic ticket.

“ ‘It’s Joe and Jill’s decision,’ “ Harris wrote. “We all said that, like a mantra, as if we’d all been hypnotized. Was it grace, or was it recklessness? In retrospect, I think it was recklessness. The stakes were simply too high.

“This wasn’t a choice that should have been left to an individual’s ego, an individual’s ambition,” she went on. “It should have been more than a personal decision.”

The relationship between Harris and Jill Biden, which was famously glacial, will surely turn Arctic-cold with Wednesday’s revelations. And Biden’s thin-skinned husband, who still harbors the fanciful belief he would beaten Donald Trump had he been the Democratic nominee, isn’t likely to be any more pleased.

There’s more.

Harris suggests in many ways Biden was more hindrance than helpmate as she struggled to step out from the shadow that inevitably shrouds the vice president.

When Biden finally spoke to the nation to explain his abdication and anointment of Harris as his chosen successor, Harris notes he waited nearly nine minutes into an 11-minute address to offer his cursory blessing.

She also expresses a deep personal pique toward Team Biden and West Wing staffers who had little faith in Harris or her political abilities and had no hesitation stating so — in private, anyway.

“When the stories were unfair or inaccurate, the president’s inner circle seemed fine with it,” Harris wrote. “Indeed, it seemed as if they decided I should be knocked down a little bit more.

“Worse, I often learned that the president’s staff was adding fuel to negative narratives that sprang up around me.”

Fact check: True.

But Harris also skates around certain hard truths, suggesting the staff turnover that plagued her early in her vice presidency was just the normal Beltway churn.

Harris has a reputation for being an imperious and difficult boss — it’s not misogynistic to say so — and she did suffer a notably high level of staff burnout and turnover that hindered her vice presidential operation.

Harris embarrassed herself in some stumbling TV appearances — especially early in her vice presidency — and it’s not racist to point that out. She has no one to blame but herself.

Perhaps most critically, Harris bequeathed the Trump campaign a sterling political gift late in the campaign when she appeared on the TV chatfest “The View” and, served up a softball of a question, whiffed it spectacularly.

“What, if anything,” Harris was asked, “would you have done … differently than President Biden during the past four years?”

It’s a question she could have easily anticipated. The separation of a president and the vice president looking to follow him into the Oval Office is a political rite of passage, though always a fraught and delicate one.

It’s necessary to show voters not just a hint of independence but also a bit of spine.

George H.W. Bush handled the maneuver with aplomb and succeeded Ronald Reagan. Hubert Humphrey and Al Gore did not, and both lost.

Given her chance, Harris squandered a choice opportunity to put some badly needed space between herself and the dismally regarded Biden.

“There is not a thing that comes to mind,” was her tinny response, and that gaffe is entirely on the former vice president.

It didn’t necessarily cost her the White House. There were plenty of reasons Harris lost. But at a time when voters were virtually shouting out loud for change in Washington it stamped the vice president, quite unhelpfully, as more of the same.

‘I am a loyal person,” Harris writes, which is not only self-justifying but has the slightly off-putting whiff of someone declaring, by golly, I’m just too honest.

Perhaps behind closed doors she screamed and raged, telling the octogenarian Biden he was old and senile and sure to cost Democrats the White House and deliver the nation to the evil clutches of Donald Trump — though that seems doubtful.

“Many people want to spin up a narrative of some big conspiracy at the White House to hide Joe Biden’s infirmity,” she wrote.

In fact, she said, Biden was “fully able to discharge the duties of president.”

“On his worst day, he was more deeply knowledgeable, more capable of exercising judgment, and far more compassionate than Donald Trump on his best.”

Fact Check: Again, true.

“But at 81,” Harris went on, “Joe got tired. … I don’t believe it was incapacity. If I believed that, I would have said so. As loyal as I am to President Biden, I am more loyal to my country.”

Plenty of books have been written offering insider accounts of the White House and presenting far more dire accounts of Biden’s physical and mental acuity. Many more are sure to come.

Harris’ contribution to the oeuvre remains to be seen. Her book is set for publication on Sept. 23 and there is a lot more to come beyond the excerpts just published.

What has been revealed is Harris’ eagerness to settle old scores, to right the record as she sees it and to angrily and publicly call out some of her perceived enemies — including some still active in Democratic politics.

How does that affect her prospects for 2028 and what does it say about whether Harris runs again for president?

You can read into it what you will.

When Kamala Harris was contemplating a run for California governor, one of her supposed considerations was the security detail that attends the state’s chief executive.

The services of a life-preserving, ego-boosting retinue of intimidating protectors — picture dark glasses, earpiece, stern visage — were cited by more than one Harris associate, past and present, as a factor in her deliberations. These were not Trumpers or Harris haters looking to impugn or embarrass the former vice president.

According to one of those associates, Harris has been accompanied nonstop by an official driver and person with a gun since 2003, when she was elected San Francisco district attorney. One could easily grow accustomed to that level of comfort and status, not to mention the pleasure of never having to personally navigate the 101 or 405 freeways at rush hour.

That is, of course, a perfectly terrible and selfish reason to run for governor, if ever it was a part of Harris’ thinking. To her credit, the reason she chose to not run was a very good one: Harris simply “didn’t feel called” to pursue the job, in the words of one political advisor.

Now, however, the matter of Harris’ personal protection has become a topic of heated discussion and debate, which is hardly surprising in an age when everything has become politicized, including “and” and “the.”

There is plenty of bad faith to go around.

Last month, President Trump abruptly revoked Harris’ Secret Service protection. The security arrangement for vice presidents typically lasts for six months after they leave office, allowing them to quietly fade into ever greater obscurity. But before vacating the White House, President Biden signed an executive order extending protection for Harris for an additional year. (Former presidents are guarded by Secret Service details for life.)

As the first female, first Black and first Asian American vice president, Harris faced, as they say in the protective-service business, an elevated threat level while serving in the post. In the 230-odd days since Harris left office, there is no reason to believe racism and misogyny, not to mention wild-eyed partisan hatred, have suddenly abated in this great land of ours.

And there remain no small number of people crazy enough to violently act on those impulses.

The president could have been gracious and extended Harris’ protection. But expecting grace out of Trump is like counting on a starving Doberman to show restraint when presented a bloody T-bone steak.

“This is another act of revenge following a long list of political retaliation in the form of firings, the revoking of security clearances and more,” Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass angrily declared.

True.

Though Bass omitted the bit about six months being standard operating procedure, which would have at least offered some context. It wasn’t as though Harris was being treated differently than past vice presidents.

Gov. Gavin Newsom quickly stepped into the breach, providing Harris protection by the California Highway Patrol. Soon after, The Times’ Richard Winton broke the news that Los Angeles Police Department officers meant to be fighting crime in hard-hit areas of the city were instead providing security for Harris as a supplement to the CHP.

Not a great look. Or the best use of police resources.

Thus followed news that officers had been pulled off Harris’ security detail after internal criticism; supposedly the LAPD’s involvement had always been intended as a stopgap measure.

All well and good, until the conservative-leaning Los Angeles Police Protective League, the union representing rank-and-file officers, saw fit to issue a gratuitously snarky statement condemning the hasty arrangement. Its board of directors described Harris as “a failed presidential candidate who also happens to be a multi-millionaire, with multiple homes … who can easily afford to pay for her own security.”

As if Harris’ 2024 defeat — she lost the popular vote to Trump by a scant 1.5%, it might be noted — was somehow relevant.

To be certain, Harris and her husband, attorney Doug Emhoff, won’t miss any hot meals as they shelter in their 3,500-square-foot Brentwood home. (The one house they own.) But they’re not stupid-rich either.

One person in the private-security business told Winton that a certain household name pays him $1,000 a day for a 12-hour shift. That can quickly add up and put a noticeable dent in your back account, assuming your name isn’t Elon or Taylor or Zuckerberg or Bezos.

Setting aside partisanship — if that’s still possible — and speaking bluntly, there’s something to be said for ensuring Harris doesn’t die a violent death at the hands of some crazed assailant.

The CHP’s Dignitary Protection Section is charged with protecting all eight of California’s constitutional officers — we’re talking folks such as the insurance commissioner and state controller — as well as the first lady and other elected officials, as warranted. The statutory authority also extends to former constitutional officers, which would include Harris, who served six years as state attorney general.

Surely there’s room in California’s $321-billion budget to make sure nothing terrible happens to one of the state’s most prominent and credentialed citizens. It doesn’t have to be an open-ended, lifetime commitment to Harris’ protection, but an arrangement that could be periodically reviewed, as time passes and potential danger wanes.

Serving in elected office can be rough, especially in these incendiary times. The price shouldn’t include having to spend the rest of your life looking nervously over your shoulder.

Or draining your life savings, so you don’t have to.