WHEN Hillary Clinton recently said that she puts half of Donald Trump’s supporters in a “basket of deplorables”, calling such folk “racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamophobic—you name it,” her Republican rival gleefully dubbed this outburst “the single biggest mistake of the political season”. Certainly, Mrs Clinton does seem to have broken a cardinal rule of politics: attack those running for office and their policies by all means, but never blame the voters. As Democrats scrambled to defend their nominee, they urged Americans to consider Mrs Clinton’s remarks in context, and to study the kindlier thoughts that she shared next, about how she puts other Trump backers into a second “basket”, unhappily filled with folk who feel the government and the economy has let them down, leaving them “just desperate for change” and deserving of understanding.

Alas, if Clinton allies think that sympathy will get them off the hook, they may be misjudging how much voters enjoy being called “desperate”. Take a step back, and the whole Trump-bashing riff by Mrs Clinton, delivered on September 9th against the slightly unhelpful backdrop of a fund-raising gala in Manhattan, points to a dreadful dilemma that the Republican presidential nominee represents for the entire political establishment, meaning not just Mrs Clinton and the Democrats, but principled and thoughtful Republicans, and (at the risk of navel-gazing) journalists trying to report fairly on this election, too.

Put simply, Mr Trump’s shtick should not be working. In part, that is because he has repeatedly made appeals to bigotry since entering the race more than a year ago. It is dismaying to see so many Americans either nod in agreement or pretend not to hear what he is really saying. To be still more blunt, to anyone with their critical faculties undimmed by partisan rage or calculation, he is obviously a con-man. He is a self-styled billionaire who will not reveal his tax returns and claims credit for acts of charity that others funded. He is a portly 70-year old who likes to insinuate that Mrs Clinton is in desperate health while declining to reveal his own medical records. Then there are his promises to restore American greatness if elected president, and to do this at head-spinning speed (“so fast”, is a favourite Trump boast). In a country long used to fibbing candidates and policy platforms constructed out of flim-flam and magic money, Mr Trump breaks new ground. He is, arguably, the first major party nominee to realise that when working to please a crowd, there is no reason to offer policies that even try to make sense. Just start with the businessman’s most famous promise, that he can make Mexico pay for a 2,000-mile border wall which will stop both illegal migration and drug smuggling: a nonsensical claim that reliably provokes roars of delight at Trump rallies, and chants of “Build That Wall”.

Mrs Clinton has now revealed that two aspects of the Trump phenomenon appal her. She is disgusted by how many of her countrymen cheer his nastiest attacks on women and minorities—though she later expressed regret for saying that she thinks fully “half” his supporters are prejudiced. She also sorrows that so many are wretched enough to fall for his empty promises—though, during her riff in Manhattan about understanding Trump-fans, she correctly noted that those pinning their hopes on the Republican may not buy “everything that he says”. Conventional wisdom holds that her disgust will hurt her more than her sorrow. The Trump campaign clearly agrees, rushing out TV ads for use in battleground states, replaying the “deplorables” line and accusing Mrs Clinton of “viciously demonising hard-working people like you.” Conventional wisdom is wrong. Calling Trump-backers bigots is a gamble that could yet pay off. Greater peril lurks in telling them that they are marks for a con-man.

True, Mrs Clinton’s analysis of Trumpian bigotry was horribly sweeping. At one point she called some Trump voters “irredeemable”, which was inexcusable. She has further enraged conservatives: some Trump-backers struck defiant poses in hastily printed “Deplorables” T-shirts. But here is another truth, born of today’s deep partisan divisions. Most Trump-backers were lost to Mrs Clinton long ago. If she is lucky, her words will help her, by firing up apathetic Democrats and by depressing the Trump vote among squeamish Republicans—among them moderate professionals and suburban women who do not want to back a bigot.

If the question from enraged Trump voters is: “Who are you calling racists?”, Mrs Clinton may yet feel safe staring them down. The rest of the political establishment is more or less comfortable weighing that question, too: rival politicians, journalists and the fact-checkers employed by news outlets are all accustomed to assessing claims that a given policy will have an outsize impact on a particular race, ethnicity or religious group. Instead, it is another question from Trump-backers that makes political professionals squirm with discomfort, including many reporters and pundits. That question is: “Are you calling us stupid?” Social class makes that discomfort still sharper, as polls and campaign-trail interviews reveal how much of Mr Trump’s support comes from blue-collar whites who hail him not just a candidate, but a champion who sees the world as they do and speaks for them, only with the authority of a fabulously successful businessman.

Fact-checking a peddler of dreams

In short, Mr Trump has brilliantly manoeuvred himself into a place in which fact-checking him sounds like snobbery. As his campaign manager, Kellyanne Conway, has bragged: “He’s built a movement and people are proud to be a part of it. When you insult him, you insult them.” That makes the presidential debates, set to start on September 26th, more important than ever: they are Mrs Clinton’s best chance to challenge Mr Trump’s nonsense directly, without seeming to scold his fans. The Republican is already trying to intimidate the moderators, growling that debates will be “rigged”. Good. That means he knows what is at stake.