As a Ph.D. in political science, it’s only natural that I would have an interest in politics. But until today I’ve refrained from writing about domestic politics, for the same reason most people refrain from talking or writing about politics—or religion, for that matter: to avoid offending anyone.

The recent Democratic presidential “debates” got me thinking about something, however, something that seemed so intriguing and potentially important that I decided to break my silence, by publishing my first piece on U.S. politics.

What are referred to today as debates, to my mind are really more like joint appearances than substantive debates between candidates. Each candidate gets a few soundbites. There is some limited engagement and exchange among them but not really enough in my opinion to qualify as debates, in any serious sense of the term (even when there are fewer candidates together on stage).

These joint appearances, though, are still educational. They still help us better understand the candidates and the ecosystem in which they are competing. They serve a useful purpose and are therefore of value.

Sanders doesn’t seem to care much about how he looks, how smooth he sounds or even if he stumbles at times. He is a man on a mission.

After listening to various soundbites from July 30, I was left with the distinct—and disturbing—impression that in a very major way, they were all clones. With the exception of one. And that one was Bernie Sanders. They were all clones because they seemed so heavily scripted and self-conscious, as if they had come prepared to utter a few specific lines in order to implement a few strategic strikes, while scrupulously steering clear of any mistakes.

Sanders came across to me as being in an entirely different league, a league of his own. Why? After pondering this feeling, I came up with an answer. He was the only one in the bunch who impressed me as being truly authentic. He was there because he believes deeply in certain ideas, to which he demonstrates virtually unwavering commitment. He doesn’t seem to care much about how he looks, how smooth he sounds or even if he stumbles at times. He is a man on a mission, deeply committed to ideas and policies intended to improve society.

There are many admirable qualities and achievements associated with the other candidates. There are things to like about all of them. But—and this is a big but—none of the others struck me as authentic. They were all so carefully scripted, so concerned about their images and their talking points. They seemed more concerned with appearances, scoring points with soundbites and avoiding mistakes than they were committed to the causes and policies they propound.

On July 30, Buttigieg failed what to me seemed like a major test. And he failed in a big way.

Originally, I thought that Pete Buttigieg was a serious contender for giving Sanders a run for his money. He is certainly as articulate and intelligent as Sanders, which is not something I can say about all the candidates, as likeable as they may be. But at the most recent debate, on July 30, Buttigieg failed what to me seemed like a major test. And he failed in a big way. The youngest candidate on stage (37), he was thrown a softball question about age (“Should voters consider age when choosing a president?”). Though he started out by taking the high road, the temptation to take a cheap shot apparently proved irresistible, prompting him to eventually say in effect that younger is better and that’s at least part of what makes him a superior candidate. This was clearly an attempt to eliminate some of his key competition, including of course Sanders. Once they are out of the way, he will presumably find some other points of comparison to use to pick off his younger competition.

What was wrong with “Mayor Pete’s” response? It was opportunistic. It was discriminatory (showing ageism, which is not necessarily any better than homophobia, by the way, Mayor Pete). Finally, it was not really intelligent. Should a candidate be disqualified simply on the basis of age? Is it necessarily true that a younger candidate will do a better job than an older one? Does youthful energy always trump experience and the wisdom that comes with it? It’s hard for me to imagine that any thoughtful, intelligent person would answer those questions in the affirmative.

Contrast this cheap shot on the part of Buttigieg in this debate to the reaction by Sanders in 2016 when he faced off against Hillary Clinton and he was thrown a similarly softball question about Clinton’s infamous emails. Did Sanders do in 2016 what Buttigieg did in 2019, by taking a cheap shot, in the hopes of diminishing his competition? No, he did not. “Enough of the emails! Let’s talk about the real issues facing America,” Sanders famously replied. He was not interested in the cheap shot, even though it could presumably have garnered applause and who knows how many replays if he came up with something catchy to say about Clinton’s use of a private email server, in violation of both common sense and government policy. That illustrates the difference between Sanders and Buttigieg. Sanders took the high road, while Buttigieg took the low one. Sanders was principled, while Buttigieg was opportunistic. Sanders wanted to engage on the issues, while Buttigieg chose to do what seemed expedient.

When Hickenlooper mocked Sanders’s hand gesture, Sanders repeated it, as if to stress his exasperation.

When John Hickenlooper challenged Sanders on healthcare in a way that Sanders found uninformed at best, Sanders threw up his hands in exasperation. When Hickenlooper mocked Sanders’s hand gesture, Sanders repeated it, as if to stress his exasperation. Not using any mean or disrespectful language, he made his passion and commitment evident, as he clearly articulated a convincing rebuttal: “Interestingly enough, today is the anniversary of Medicare. Fifty-four years ago, under Lyndon Johnson and a Democratic Congress, they started a new program. After one year, it had 19 million elderly people in it. Please don’t tell me that in a four-year period, we cannot go from 65 down to 55 down to 45 to 35. This is not radical.” Sanders, in other words, focused on the substance of the issue at hand. Buttigieg, in contrast (in the episode described above) personalized his soundbite opportunity, by focusing on a biological characteristic of some of his opponents.

I could go candidate by candidate, to show how each of them failed to match Sanders’s authenticity but with so many candidates to cover, that would take too long. As one last example here, I will mention what has been referred to as Cory Booker’s epic side-eye (some called it “evil eye”) meme, clearly showing his irritation at fellow candidate Beto O’Rourke for showing off his Spanish-language skills first, beating Booker to the punch on that score. If any incident offers a classic illustration of what it means to be contrived versus authentic, this would have to be near the top of the list.

A large part of Trump's 'genius' rests in his ability to communicate in a way that is so outrageously in violation of generally accepted norms of decency but with enough artful ambiguity that he manages to elude being taken to task for those utterances.

But where things really get interesting, I think, is with regard to the overlap between Sanders and his archrival, Trump. You don’t have to like Trump to acknowledge his (non-material) assets. Indeed, if you consider him an adversary to be defeated, you’d better acknowledge his assets. That’s the only intelligent approach to take with any “worthy” adversary. Trump is certainly a lucky son of a gun, one of the luckiest to ever enter the realm of politics. At the same time, I would actually concur with one of Trump’s most seemingly over-the-top self-congratulatory statements—that he is a genius. In a way, I think he has demonstrated that he truly is. He is a genius in his use of the media, honed over several decades in the limelight, including hosting a prime-time “reality TV” show. He is a genius in his instinctive mastery of manipulation of individuals and groups. A large part of his genius rests in his ability to communicate in a way that is so outrageously in violation of generally accepted norms of decency but with enough artful ambiguity that he manages to elude being taken to task for those utterances.

Above all else, perhaps, stands one asset in particular: authenticity. It is Trump’s aura of authenticity that enables him to strike such a responsive chord and inspire his “base” to the extent that he does. Authenticity—or at least the perception of such—has been one of the most prized assets of successful demagogues and despots throughout history.

There was more than one reason for Hillary Clinton’s surprise loss of the 2016 election to Trump. One that few would dispute is the widespread perception that Clinton lacked authenticity. She came across as so heavily scripted and contrived that she simply could not be “likeable enough,” as Obama charitably described her during a four-way New Hampshire Democratic presidential debate on January 5, 2008, involving the two of them, together with Bill Richardson and John Edwards, before his fall from grace.

The 'secret sauce' for Sanders and Trump is the same: in a word, authenticity.

If the 2016 Democratic primary had been a fair fight, Sanders would have beaten Clinton. He would have beaten her mainly because he came across (and still does) as so much more authentic. Now the nation approaches a turning point, a critical crossroads in our development as a democracy based on the values enshrined in our Constitution. Will we continue to be led along the trail that is being blazed by Trump, who has effectively hijacked the Republican party, making it “the party of Trump,” as he trashes those values? Or will we choose a leader who will get us back on track, toward restoring our cherished principles of liberal democracy?

A Democratic nominee who is less than authentic is not likely to inspire voters in 2020 any more than Clinton did in 2016. We’ve seen that movie and should have learned our lesson. In the absence of a credible dark-horse candidate who may yet emerge, Sanders is the only primary candidate whose level of authenticity and genuineness can match that of Trump. Sanders may well be the only one who can inspire the opposing “base” of voters the way that Trump is capable of inspiring his. The “secret sauce” for Sanders and Trump is the same, in other words: authenticity.

Authenticity is what is in demand. Authenticity is what is capable of inspiring voters and getting them to the polls. If Sanders—who is only four years older than Trump—is trashed because of his age (as Buttigieg and now ex-candidate Eric Swalwell) would apparently have us do, the Dems will likely pit their unauthentic candidate against the very authentic Donald Trump. And if the result is similar to what happened the last time around, we would have no right to be surprised.

Daniel K. Berman is a writer and consultant based in Silicon Valley.