Sam Brownback, the Republican governor of Kansas up for re-election on Tuesday, wears a steel Timex with a black leather band. Bob Beauprez, the Republican challenger for Colorado governor, stumps in a cheap Waltham watch he bought for his father around 1970. Fred DuVal, a Democrat running for Arizona governor, opts for a hand-me-down Bulova Caravelle that may cost less than $100 new.

The conspicuous lack of luxury timepieces in this year’s midterm election cycle is in line with current trends in American political wrist armor. President Obama routinely poses at photo ops with sleeves rolled, flexing a Jorg Gray JG6500 series chronograph that could pass as an altimeter from a Boeing 767, and retails for less than $400 — roughly one-thousandth the cost of the $540,000 Vacheron Constantin of Silvio Berlusconi, Italy’s billionaire former prime minister.

What ever happened to the wristwatch befitting a world leader?

Consider that President Dwight D. Eisenhower, the sartorial equivalent of oyster crackers, appeared on a 1952 cover of Life magazine wearing an 18-karat gold Rolex Datejust that nowadays would look flashy on a Maserati-driving Miami timeshare broker.

The political power watch — a subtle yet potent symbol of leadership, with deep roots in American politics — has been redefined. In an era when any hint of elitism is the third rail of modern statecraft, and even the tiniest fashion faux pas (see: Mr. Obama’s “dad jeans”) is dissected mercilessly, most office holders, in the United States anyway, seem unwilling to risk C.E.O.-level timepieces that were once the birthright of the ruling class.