Kamala Harris and the cereal problem

It’s been less than two weeks since the presidential debate, and despite general acclaim for Kamala Harris’s performance, there are many Americans who are still troubled by her non-answer to the first question posed by moderator David Muir. It is one of the most important questions of any presidential election: Are you better off today than you were four years ago?
Harris’s evasive response, which began with the head-scratching non sequitur “I was raised a middle class kid” — made clear that the correct answer to the question was “no.” Her unwillingness to confront the question — and the moderators’ unwillingness to press her on it — presented an opportunity for Donald Trump, which he didn’t take. Instead, during his chance to respond, Trump spent half his time correcting Harris’s characterization of tariffs as a sales tax and the other half rambling about immigration.
Two candidates and two narratives. What’s a voter to do?
Immigration, of course, is a huge issue in this election, but so is the cost of cereal, which I’ve pretty much stopped buying based on principle. I’m not the only one. For many of us, anything over $5 a box is a deal-breaker, and at my local supermarket this week, a 12-ounce box of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes is $6.99 with some other brands approaching $8. You expect to pay top price for a cereal containing pricy extras like almonds or dates, but not something made of milled corn and sugar that fills two-thirds of the bag within the box — if we’re lucky.
You’re not better off eating carnivore if you’re pinching pennies — a pound of name-brand bacon at my grocery store ranges from $9.79 to $15.89, and a dozen store-brand eggs are $5.79. No wonder there’s an increased interest in intermittent fasting.
Like face masks and toilet-paper shortages, the higher prices of the pandemic were supposed to be temporary, so why are we still flinching at the grocery store when we check out? Worse, why is there so much gaslighting of Americans struggling to pay their bills, even as the number of people working two jobs is slowly ticking up and both home and rent prices are prohibitively high for many people?
According to the National Association of Home Builders, nearly half of U.S. households can’t afford a $250,00 home. The average home sales price in July was $514,800, according to the Census Bureau. There is a palpable sense of discouragement among young people who don’t already own homes with low-interest mortgages secured before interest rates soared. Average rent prices rose 30% between 2019 and 2023, and nearly half of all renters spend more than 30% of their income on rent, per census data. At the same time, food prices have risen more than 25%, with eggs, dairy and, yes, cereal, among the items that are the most bewilderingly expensive. And don’t look to car insurance for relief — those bills are rising, too.
And yet we’re either told that the economy is just fine, or if it isn’t, it’s Donald Trump’s fault. One writer even rebuked people who dare say that they’re struggling in a New Republic piece entitled “You are way better off than you were four years ago.”
We can expect more of the same in the coming weeks as the Federal Reserve’s interest rate cut, which some see as suspiciously timed, is touted as relief for paycheck-to-paycheck families. In reality, it won’t be, at least not any time soon.
As LendingTree chief credit analyst Matt Schulz told CBS MoneyWatch, “While lower rates are certainly a good thing for those struggling with debt, the truth is that this one rate cut isn’t really going to make much of a difference for most people.” It will likely take several rate cuts to affect credit card rates, Schulz said, and even then, consumers might have to switch cards or negotiate with lenders to get a lower rate. The same is true of car loans and mortgages taken out while rates were high. In other words, many consumers will be stuck with August’s interest rates long after a new president is sworn in.
Jess Bidgood, in The New York Times’ “On Politics” newsletter, tried to make sense of the competing narratives about the economy, writing about a “run of economic good news” for the Biden-Harris administration, which includes falling gas prices, cooling inflation and a much welcomed needed drop in mortgage rates. But there remains a problem blocking Harris’s ascendance to the Oval Office, which she described as “It’s the economic vibe, stupid.” Polling by the Times and Siena College found that 49% of likely voters rated the economy poor, compared to 23% who considered it excellent or good.
The best thing that Harris has going for her now, absent detailed policy plans that resonate with a majority of voters in swing states, is her joy vibe. But joy doesn’t feed families or keep the lights on. And she also runs the risk of being so joyful that she is seen as unserious, particularly when it comes to pain points of the electorate. She tread dangerously close to that line during the debate, laughing animatedly throughout, even at times when a more sober demeanor was called for. This less positive vibe was summarized in the title of an American Compass essay by Newsweek’s Batya Ungar-Sargon: “Let them eat joy.”
In contrast, Trump’s more negative messaging may play better with voters who are dreading November, not because of the election, but because of the heating bills that late fall brings. He could have scored a point during the debate by asking her what a box of cereal costs — and knowing the answer himself. But presidential candidates of both parties tend to be notoriously obtuse when it comes to the concerns of ordinary voters, and Trump’s efforts to leverage the issue so far have been largely lost to clumsy delivery.
The “better off” question was first posed to the public by Ronald Reagan during his debate with Jimmy Carter in 1980. It was powerful oratory that helped get him elected. The president didn’t smile as he spoke. It was a serious question, worth our consideration every four years.