Dark Horses: From Truman to Trumpala

They called it “peanut politics.” 

Imagine running for president with no money to afford hotels, staying in strangers’ homes on the campaign trail, making the bed in the morning, and leaving a thank-you note.

That’s the level of grit Carter had.

He was the anti-establishment candidate before it was trendy. And yet, despite the simplicity of his methods, he won.

In 1976, Jimmy Carter was an unknown.

No one saw him coming.

By 1974, Carter was a one-term governor of Georgia, and yet two years later, he became the 39th president of the United States.

In a field of Democratic heavyweights—Ted Kennedy, Mo Udall, Jerry Brown—Carter's rise was an anomaly, the type of dark horse that defies expectation.

Here’s the crazy part: Carter didn’t win Iowa.

He came second to “undecided.”

Yet, through sheer force of will (and a little media magic), Carter spun that second-place finish into victory.

In this week’s podcast, I sat down with David Rubenstein to discuss his book, The Highest Calling, where he dives into the lives of U.S. presidents—from George Washington to George W. Bush.

Rubenstein’s deep dive into presidential history reveals a powerful truth: history rewrites its heroes. And nowhere is this clearer than with Jimmy Carter.

Today, when people think of Carter, they see the man who brokered peace at Camp David, the humanitarian who’s spent decades building homes with Habitat for Humanity.

But in 1980, the general consensus was that Carter failed as a president.

The economy faltered, the Iran hostage crisis consumed headlines, and he left office with a dismal approval rating.

Yet, much like Harry Truman—who was loathed when he left office but later hailed as a hero—Carter’s legacy is being re-examined.

As Rubenstein pointed out, if you look at Congressional Quarterly, Carter passed as much legislation as any president before him. Yet, he got crushed for what he couldn’t do.

Here’s the first lesson: what we think of presidents today is rarely how they’ll be remembered tomorrow.

Take Lincoln, for example.

Today, Abraham Lincoln is a revered figure—the great emancipator, the president who preserved the Union.

But in his time, Lincoln was a long-shot candidate, an Illinois lawyer who had lost more elections than he had won.

His 1860 nomination surprised many, especially since he wasn’t even on the ballot in most Southern states. But it was his persistence and his ability to outmaneuver his rivals at the Republican convention in Chicago that won him the nomination.

Rubenstein shared that each president he studied was deeply flawed in some way.

Jefferson, a man who wrote the immortal words “all men are created equal,” was a slave owner with a complex, often contradictory legacy.

FDR, the president who led America through the Great Depression and World War II, was idolized, yet he made decisions that today are condemned—like the internment of Japanese Americans.

But here’s another lesson: we, as a society, often fall in love with the idea of presidents. We idolize them because their biographers do.

Rubenstein mentioned that when Doris Kearns Goodwin spent ten years writing about Lincoln, she inevitably grew fond of him. It’s impossible to spend that much time with someone—even someone dead—and not romanticize them.

Rubenstein suggests that’s why so many presidents are written about with such reverence. Biographers, like all of us, fall for the charisma, the power, the larger-than-life personas.

In his book, Rubenstein doesn’t just profile presidents; he dissects the stories we tell about them.

Why do some presidents, like Lincoln, get mythologized, while others, like Hoover, are forgotten?

Hoover is fascinating because while he's often remembered for the Great Depression, Rubenstein reminded me that Hoover did work post-presidency, advising on government efficiency and helping with famine relief in Europe.

But perhaps the most interesting part of our conversation was Rubenstein’s take on the current political landscape.

He said that while the presidency remains the highest calling, the polarization of today’s politics has made it nearly impossible for anyone to be seen as a unifying figure.

He believes we’re more divided than ever—something echoed by almost every president he interviewed for the book.

Yet, Rubenstein’s book isn’t just about presidents; it’s about the power of history to change our perceptions.

Carter, Hoover, Truman—they were all seen as failures in their time. But history is kind. And who knows? Maybe in 50 years, the same will be said about the presidents we love to criticize today.

What’s the lesson here?

History isn’t a snapshot; it’s a long, drawn-out story, constantly edited and revised by those who come after.

For better or worse.

There’s much more ground to cover on this front…

Here’s the full podcast. Give it a listen.