When stumbling upon a recent poll, the competition between Former President Trump and President Biden may catch our eye, but below lurks a surprising contender—Robert F. Kennedy Jr., with 16 percent of the electorate favoring RFK Jr. over both Biden and Trump.
But who is RFK Jr.? Frankly, that necessitates more than a one-sentence answer.
As a Kennedy (yes, one of those Kennedys), you might expect him to be a Democrat. As a relatively successful third-party candidate in a politically polarized environment, you would expect a centrist vision for the future. As a popular political newcomer seeking to spoil the political ambitions of two candidates, you would expect someone who speaks for the American conscience. In reality, he’s none of those things.
Originally a high-profile environmental lawyer, RFK paints the world as dark, plotting and inundated with radical conspiracies around controversies like vaccines, abortions, and Covid-19. In fact, he first entered the public conscience after promoting a widely debunked theory linking vaccines to autism. With this mindset, he’s not regarded as the typical centrist candidate one might expect; in fact, I don’t think he’s the candidate his supporters expect him to be.
Besides his “spoiler candidate” label, RFK lacks a firm perspective along the political spectrum, mixing liberal progressivism—like his belief in environmental regulations and deep suspicion of special interests—with conservative culture-war talking points, such as his plan to “secure the border.” On more divisive issues like abortion, his proposed policy “More Choice, More Life,” includes plans for subsidized daycare and greater “adoption infrastructure.” Despite mentioning the word abortion 7 times, RFK Jr.’s website provides no short-term stance on federal abortion law in the wake of Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health. His attempts to appease both sides come at a price—by trying to unite people who believe in opposed ideas, he skirts the political debate. “More Choice, More Life” is nothing more than a catchphrase made to appear inoffensive on a controversial issue.
Similarly, his famous Super Bowl ad plays more on nostalgia than concrete policy. The ad features RFK Jr. ‘s face and name superimposed on an old ad used by President John F. Kennedy (JFK) for his 1960 campaign. However, behind the catchy tune and vague musings on leadership, the ad reveals little concrete details about his vision for the country in the 21st century.
Rather surprisingly, RFK Jr. supporters represent the average American far better than the average Trump or Biden supporter. 34 percent of his supporters are Democrats while 38 percent are Republicans. RFK’s appeal is also balanced across gender, race, and age. Despite his diverse supporters, representing a better cross-section of America than many candidates, RFK’s campaign thrives on the prevailing negative partisanship—an environment where disdain for opposing candidates overshadows positive support for one’s own policies.
As Clifford Young, Sarah Feldman, and Bernard Menendez penned for Ipsos, “A vote for RFK isn’t a vote for RFK—it’s a vote against both Trump and Biden.” A Reuters/Ipsos poll found that 57 percent of Biden supporters support him not out of a love of his policies but instead a hatred of Trump’s. The same is true for Trump, illustrating the prominence of negative partisanship. Alan L. Abramowitz and Steven W. Webster of Emory University found in a paper published in Electoral Studies that “… party supporters’ ratings of their own party have changed very little [from 1980-2012] … [in] contrast, ratings by voters of the opposing party have fallen sharply over this time period.” Rather than rallying behind a common cause, political parties rally their supporters against a common cause.
Ask any RFK Jr. supporter why they’re voting for him—they’ll give you hundreds of reasons surrounding why they hate Trump and Biden yet few reasons to love RFK Jr. One RFK Jr. supporter is quoted in the New York Times as saying “Trump is in all these problems…[and] then Biden—he’s not strong enough.” When asked why she supports RFK Jr., she responded, “He’s outspoken. As far as I know, he’s not crooked.” Never is a policy mentioned—only jabs at Biden and Trump paired with vague statements about the character of RFK. RFK Jr.’s campaign, then, is less about solidifying a new political path and more about capitalizing on the existing divisions between the major political parties. On the surface, RFK Jr.’s broad political appeal, extending from DeSantis voters to progressive Bernie Bros, is cause for celebration; a politician uniting people on opposite ends of the political spectrum seems to be what we’re missing. However, without tangible ideas and policies, RFK Jr.’s campaign relies on ambivalent messages and political clichés. RFK Jr.’s “base” is composed of subgroups that each gravitates towards one dimension of his political persona—like his invocations of the “Kennedy years”—falsely indicating a broad, multi-party coalition.
As always, the question with third-party candidates is whether or not people’s support for them will translate on election day. In other words, if people are voting for RFK Jr. because they hate Biden or Trump, will they truly cast a vote for a spoiler candidate or will they revert to their partisan instincts and cast a vote for one of the two major candidates just to prevent the other from winning. RFK Jr. is a mirage—a veneer absent of tangible policies that exploits a dangerous flavor of political discourse. If a democracy is supported by people voting against someone rather than for someone, something has got to be wrong.