“We made the decision many years ago that rich people in smoke-filled rooms would not pick the next president of the United States,” Warren continued, earning applause. “Billionaires in wine caves should not pick the next president of the United States.”

Then Buttigieg hit back at Warren’s own wealth, earning applause of his own, and made the case that he couldn’t have reached this phase of the campaign without the support of wealthy people.

“You know, according to Forbes magazine, I am literally the only person on this stage who is not a millionaire or a billionaire,” Buttigieg said, underscoring a fundamental reality of the wealth necessary to become a serious presidential contender. “If I pledge never to be in the company of a progressive Democratic donor, I couldn't be up here.”

Andrew Yang, the only person of color on last night’s stage, affirmed the “don’t hate the player, hate the game” mentality Buttigieg espoused when he later said “democracy dollars” (publicly funded election contributions) could create a situation where “many, many more women would run for office because they don't have to go shake the money tree in the wine cave.”

The course of our future being decided in Napa Valley wine caves is a grim thought. So is the idea that these same pricey events might be the most viable option for fundraising a national campaign. Even if I see Buttigieg’s policies as, at best, boring and, at worst, abhorrent, it’s hard to imagine a candidate with more progressive politics getting to this stage of the race on an exclusively small-donor funding model.

Campaign fundraising was only one of the ways that the final debate of the year underscored systemic issues in our election process. At the end, PBS NewHour host Judy Woodruff surprised candidates with an unorthodox question intended to be “in the spirit of the season.”

“You have two options,” Woodruff explained. “One, a candidate from whom you would ask forgiveness for something maybe that was said tonight or another time, or a candidate to whom you would like to give a gift.”

Yang was up first and caught off guard after a debate when he wasn’t particularly chippy with anyone, but said he would like to give the six other candidates a copy of his book. Buttigieg mentioned his book, and Sanders mentioned all four of his. Several of the men onstage waxed poetic about high-minded ideals: Steyer championed teamwork, Sanders talked about love and compassion, and Buttigieg advocated for party unity when a nominee is decided.

Only Warren and Senator Amy Klobuchar (D-MN) — the two women onstage — took the chance to apologize for anything they had said during the debate, highlighting how the gender politics of saying you’re sorry very much exist in our national politics.

“I would ask for forgiveness any time any of you get mad at me,” said Klobuchar, who had her own heated moment onstage with Buttigieg. “I can be blunt. But I am doing this because I think it is so important to pick the right candidate here. I do.”

“I will ask for forgiveness. I know that sometimes I get really worked up, and sometimes I get a little hot. I don't really mean to,” Warren said, before plucking heartstrings with a selfie story.

That Warren and Klobuchar were the only people onstage with the courage to offer an apology for a heated debate highlights how, even when running for president, women feel compelled to apologize for putting up a fight while men spend time lauding their own ideas and accomplishments.