For three nights, a joy approaching euphoria has coursed through the Democratic National Convention. I think the word I’ve heard most this week—more than “Harris,” “Trump,” or “Democrats”—is “vibes.” People say how good the vibes are, ask how the vibes seem, ruminate on how the vibes have shifted since Harris became the de facto nominee one month ago. And though the repetition might be cringe, it’s true: Everyone is feeling great.
But no one seems to be having as much fun as the nominee. Harris hasn’t always radiated such ease, not during her 2020 Democratic primary campaign and not as vice president, but she’s feeling it now and so is her party.
“My entire career, I’ve only had one client: the people,” Harris said in her speech on the final night of the convention. “And so on behalf of the people; on behalf of every American, regardless of party, race, gender or the language your grandmother speaks; on behalf of my mother and everyone who has ever set out on their own unlikely journey; on behalf of Americans like the people I grew up with, people who work hard, chase their dreams, and look out for one another; on behalf of everyone whose story could only be written in the greatest nation on earth, I accept your nomination to be president of the United States of America.”
Harris ended with a call not just to Democrats but to all voters. “It is now our turn to do what generations before us have done, guided by optimism and faith: to fight for this country that we love; to fight fo the ideals that we cherish; and to uphold the awesome responsibility that comes with the greatest privilege on earth: the privilege and pride of being an American,” she said. “Together let’s write the next great chapter in the most extraordinary story ever.”
This was uplift, but imbued with solemn responsibility rather than the glee of the previous three days. Maybe the weight of the task ahead was starting to dawn on Democrats, who had spent the last three days in a state of joy. Wednesday evening on the convention floor, the former Virginia governor Terry McAuliffe told me that this was different from the dozen-some DNCs he’s attended.
“I’ve chaired the party. I’ve run all these things,” he said. “Generally, we need one or two days to bring people together, platform concessions, bring the warring factions together. Here? None of that.”
The main bone of disputation among delegates inside the United Center seemed to be whether 2024 was more exuberant than the 2008 convention that nominated Barack Obama, or simply equal to it. The optimism was notable for how new it still was. “I love Joe Biden, but it’s like there’s been a breath of fresh air,” former Ohio Governor Ted Strickland told me. “This convention is going to turn out to be my very favorite.”
Party conventions, like Twitter, are not real life. They’re populated by the most engaged and excited members of the party, and they’re bubbles where conflicting talking points don’t intrude and the other guys appear only as the butt of jokes or the target of boos. Still, plenty of evidence shows that the excitement about the Harris-Walz ticket isn’t just a convention chimera—national and battleground polls show Harris (narrowly) leading Trump, Democratic fundraising is strong, and Trump seems to be flailing.
The Democrats’ challenge now is to figure out how to keep that energy going for the next two and a half months. Given the recent nominee switch, Harris has barely been tested on the trail and is building her campaign on the fly. The most intense part of the campaign and the most aggressive attacks have not yet begun.
When I asked McAuliffe, whose temperament has always been almost belligerently optimistic, whether Democrats could pull it off, he scoffed.
“Oh, easy. People don’t want to vote for Trump,” he said. “They don’t. We just got to keep giving a good alternative, a good message.”
He told me Virginia Democrats had signed up 10,000 new volunteers since Harris entered the race. People I talked to this week kept spitting stats like this: 24,000 new Ohio volunteers in eight days. A thousand new Georgia volunteers in 24 hours.
“We know that this is not just a moment,” said Representative Nikema Williams, chair of the Georgia Democratic Party. “This is a movement, and there are a lot of people that are joining this movement.”
Part of the goal of a convention is to transmit energy from the activist core out to voters on the ground. “Enthusiasm is like a muscle. The more you have it, the more you generate it,” Ben Wikler, the chair of the Wisconsin Democratic Party told me.
The Badger State has become an organizing model for Democrats elsewhere since Wikler took over in 2019, notching a series of high-profile wins. “The biggest thing that builds enthusiasm is the sense for everyone involved can actually make the future better, the sense of possibility and the sense of excitement and joy about what we can create together—not just the dread and disaster if we lose, but also the joy if we win, that can propel people forward,” he said.
Which isn’t to say that the dread isn’t present. Like Voldemort, Donald Trump was invoked often though named seldom. “I think people understand the stakes of the election,” Representative Jerry Nadler of New York told me on the convention floor.
Each night, Democrats included a prominent segment discussing Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation blueprint for a second Trump administration. Michelle Obama, in her Tuesday night stemwinder, issued a warning. “We cannot be our own worst enemies,” she said. “The minute something goes wrong, the minute a lie takes hold, folks, we cannot start wringing our hands. We cannot get a goldilocks complex about whether everything is just right.”
Hillary Clinton, who infamously did not visit Wisconsin during the 2016 general election and then lost the state by less than a percentage point, warned Democrats not to repeat the mistakes of eight years ago. “No matter what the polls say, we can’t let up,” she said Monday. “We can’t get driven down crazy conspiracy rabbit holes. We have to fight for the truth.”
Those battles will start before delegates start making their way to O’Hare this morning and the fizz of the party gives way to the hard work of getting out the vote. But last night, long after Harris had left and the convention gaveled close, some delegates stayed on the floor bouncing balloons, cycling through slogans, and dancing. For now, it was good vibes only.
