The landscape of political journalism often blurs the line between critical analysis and uncritical promotion, a phenomenon recently exemplified by coverage of Senator Lindsey Graham. On a particularly revealing day, a major political publication released what many observers interpreted as a flattering profile of the South Carolina lawmaker, simultaneously highlighting both the senator's talent for commanding attention and the media's occasional complicity in amplifying political theater.
The profile in question described Graham as possessing "main character energy," a contemporary phrase borrowed from entertainment culture that suggests an individual's innate ability to dominate narrative focus. While the term might appropriately describe compelling protagonists in television dramas, its application to a sitting senator raises important questions about the standards of political journalism. The comparison becomes particularly problematic when one considers that memorable main characters span from complex antiheroes to comic relief figures, suggesting the descriptor reveals more about stylistic flair than substantive leadership.
What distinguishes this coverage as particularly noteworthy is its timing and context. The article emerged during a period when Graham's political maneuvering has drawn intense scrutiny from multiple quarters. Rather than interrogating the senator's controversial positions or examining his evolving relationship with institutional norms, the piece appeared to celebrate his ability to navigate the contemporary political environment through force of personality alone.
The language of Beltway journalism often transforms what might appear as straightforward sycophancy into supposedly sophisticated political analysis. This specialized vocabulary reframes behaviors that would otherwise be recognized as opportunistic as instead demonstrating strategic acumen. When a politician demonstrates unwavering loyalty to a powerful figure, for instance, this might be characterized as "pragmatic positioning" rather than criticized as a abandonment of principle. This linguistic alchemy serves the interests of those in power while confusing public understanding of democratic accountability.
Graham's relationship with the former president exemplifies this dynamic. The senator has navigated the complex terrain of Trump-era Republican politics with a flexibility that has left many observers questioning his core convictions. His transformation from vocal critic to staunch ally represents one of the most dramatic political evolutions in recent memory, yet it has been frequently characterized as savvy adaptation rather than ideological inconsistency.
The concept of the "lap dog" in politics—an obedient ally who provides uncritical support—has long served as a metaphor for relationships of political subservience. The reference to canine loyalty in political discourse, while colorful, points to a serious concern about the independence of legislative figures and their accountability to constituents versus their service to party leadership. When a senator appears to prioritize the interests and approval of a single powerful individual over institutional responsibilities or constituent needs, democratic processes suffer.
The events surrounding January 6, 2021, cast these dynamics in particularly stark relief. As the nation grappled with an unprecedented assault on the peaceful transfer of power, the responses of individual lawmakers became defining moments in their careers. For some, this period clarified their commitment to democratic principles. For others, it revealed a willingness to accommodate or excuse behavior that threatened constitutional order.
Graham's positioning throughout this period has drawn particular attention. His initial reactions to the events of that day seemed to suggest recognition of their gravity, yet his subsequent actions have complicated this assessment. The senator has been reported to have developed strategies to help colleagues navigate the political consequences of their responses to the insurrection, raising questions about whether such efforts serve democratic accountability or political expedience.
This approach reflects a broader pattern in contemporary politics where the management of political fallout often takes precedence over substantive reckoning with events. When lawmakers focus more on helping colleagues survive political consequences than on addressing the underlying issues, public trust erodes. The prioritization of party cohesion over institutional integrity creates incentives for obfuscation rather than transparency.
The media's role in this ecosystem deserves careful examination. When journalists frame political survival strategies as clever maneuvering rather than calling them what they are—efforts to evade accountability—they become participants in the theater rather than observers of it. The transformation of political journalism into a form of entertainment reporting, where personalities matter more than policies, fundamentally mis-serves the public.
Political theater thrives on this dynamic. When the performance of politics—who appears powerful, who commands attention, who navigates controversy with style—becomes the story, substantive issues fade from view. The public receives a steady diet of personality profiles and strategic analysis while policy implications and ethical considerations receive less attention. This shift serves the interests of those who excel at performance while disadvantaging those focused on governance.
The consequences extend beyond individual politicians or media outlets. When the public loses confidence in both political institutions and the press tasked with holding them accountable, democratic discourse suffers. Citizens struggle to distinguish between genuine leadership and effective performance, between principled stands and strategic positioning. This confusion creates space for corruption, incompetence, and authoritarian tendencies to flourish disguised as political savvy.
Accountability mechanisms depend on clear-eyed observation and honest description. When journalists describe political subservience as "main character energy" or frame opportunism as strategy, they undermine the public's ability to make informed judgments. The specialized language of insider journalism may impress those within the Beltway, but it alienates and confuses the broader public that depends on media to translate political behavior into understandable terms.
The reference to the president's supposed dislike of dogs, lap or otherwise, serves as a metaphorical reminder that political relationships based on unquestioning loyalty ultimately serve no one—not even the powerful figures who demand them. Such relationships reduce complex policy debates to simple questions of allegiance, replacing democratic deliberation with personal fealty.
As the nation continues to grapple with the legacy of recent political turmoil, the need for clear, critical journalism has never been greater. The public requires reporting that cuts through performance to examine substance, that distinguishes between style and principle, that holds power accountable rather than celebrating its exercise. The celebration of political theater, however entertaining, ultimately undermines the serious work of democratic governance.
The case of Senator Graham and his media coverage serves as a microcosm of larger challenges facing American democracy. It illustrates how political figures can leverage media dynamics to their advantage, how journalistic practices can inadvertently support anti-democratic tendencies, and how the public can be left struggling to understand the true nature of political events. Recognizing these patterns represents the first step toward demanding better—from our elected officials, from our media, and from our democratic institutions.