The State of the Union response has a problem: It almost never responds to anything.
What was once a smart adaptation to the television age has become a lifeless ritual that rarely functions as a fitting rebuttal to the speech the president has just given. Instead of a rebuttal, we get a recital: a prewritten monologue delivered in a quiet room by a “rising star” who’s staring into a teleprompter and reciting safe contrasts that sound like every other speech voters have heard a thousand times before. It is political comfort food: bland, predictable and instantly forgotten.
As the party that doesn’t currently control the White House, Democrats can do better. And they should start doing better now. If our party is serious about breaking through in an era dominated by attention and voter cynicism, then Virginia Gov. Abigail Spanberger, who’s giving the Democrats’ English-language response, should rethink the format entirely and give America something it almost never sees anymore: Something unscripted. Something human. Something real.
It is political comfort food: bland, predictable and instantly forgotten.
In every political campaign — be it for the House, governor or Senate — candidates are expected to think on their feet. They debate live. They answer questions. They hold each other accountable. They react in real time.
Yet on one of the biggest political nights, we pretend those skills don’t matter.
In large part that’s because, over time, the opposition party’s State of the Union response has become less about the speech the country just heard and more of a national audition and a test of message discipline for the next generation of party leadership.
But here’s the irony: None of the solo responders in the modern era has ever become president. What has become routine is something else: awkwardness, overproduction and viral mishaps that overshadow the substance of the message.
The response is designed to offend no one and inspire even fewer.
The president speaks live before Congress, surrounded by ceremony, applause and history. The responder appears alone, in a sterile setting, reciting a script written days earlier. The first feels human. The second feels manufactured.
And voters can tell.
Imagine a different approach.
Instead of a studio set and a teleprompter, we get a live shot of Spanberger watching the address while revealing her facial expression and body language from a small picture-in-picture in the lower- or upper-third corner of the shot.
She’s taking notes. Conferring with her staff. Absorbing and reacting to everything she observes and hears from the president.
Then, when he concludes, she steps in front of the cameras, delivers a concise, organic statement and takes questions from reporters.
Authenticity comes from unscripted moments — when reactions are raw, when conviction shines through tone and posture.
No script. No artificial staging. No theatrical gloom. No overacting. And most importantly, no teleprompter. Trump is the most skilled television and media politician of his generation and a belligerent master of live performance, spectacle and driving the news agenda. And you don’t bring a teleprompter to a street fight.
Authenticity comes from unscripted moments — when a leader’s guard is down, when reactions are raw, when conviction shines through tone and posture.








