This is a long build-up for saying: Donald Trump had such a challenge, and moment, and responsibility, and opportunity yesterday, after the Nazi violence in Charlottesville, Virginia.

And he failed, abysmally.

* * *

Presidents have a particular burden, and responsibility, when the nation as a whole has suffered a shock, wound, or shame. Franklin Roosevelt responded to one such emergency in 1941, with his “date which will live in infamy” address after the Pearl Harbor attacks. Reagan did so with an address from the Oval Office soon after the space shuttle Challenger exploded in 1986. One of the finest moments of George W. Bush’s presidency (and I say that as someone who doesn’t think there were a lot of fine moments) was his address to Congress nine days after the 9/11 attacks, which was strong on national resolve and free of build-up for an impending invasion of Iraq. (“This is the world's fight. This is civilization's fight. This is the fight of all who believe in progress and pluralism, tolerance and freedom.”) Barack Obama rose to this challenge with his “Amazing Grace” address in Charleston, after the racist murder of church-goers there.

The specific duty of a president in these moments is to: reflect awareness of the grief, shock, fear, uncertainty that people of the country may be feeling on a wide scale; to emphasize the values that the country as a whole is supposed to represent; to define, express, and channel the country’s desire to understand why a tragedy or challenge has occurred—including when that is unknowable, as Reagan did after the Challenger explosion:

And I want to say something to the schoolchildren of America who were watching the live coverage of the shuttle's takeoff. I know it is hard to understand, but sometimes painful things like this happen. It's all part of the process of exploration and discovery. It's all part of taking a chance and expanding man's horizons. The future doesn't belong to the fainthearted; it belongs to the brave.

And, finally, it is the responsibility of a leader in time of crisis to give an indication of what people should do: Hold their heads up; be brave rather than afraid; support their neighbors; live the example they would like others to follow.

Many state, local, and national figures, from both parties, fulfilled their parts of this duty yesterday. Those with the most serious burden, the president and vice president, did not.

* * *

The words in Mike Pence’s official vice-presidential tweet on Charlottesville—“thoughts & prayers w/ families”—are so cheapened by overuse to be in a way worse than saying nothing at all. As I mentioned on Twitter soon after Pence’s statement, the first million or so times that public officials offered their “thoughts and prayers” after a tragedy, the words might have conveyed an actual meaning. Now they’re just word-noise, the equivalent of saying “have a nice day.” Here’s a test: think of any sentiment you really want to convey, whether of grief, of support, of condemnation, or of anything else. Then imagine whether you’d say “Thoughts and prayers.” You wouldn’t. That’s filler for when you’re signaling, “I should say something here, but I’m not going to do anything.”