“Perpetuating victimhood, especially when it’s false, is not a great advertisement for leadership.”
With those words, Bill Maher lit a match and dropped it directly onto the Democratic Party’s post-2024 autopsy. During a recent segment on Real Time, Maher didn’t just critique the loss; he dismantled the entire psychological framework of the current liberal establishment. From Kamala Harris’s new memoir to the party’s “no contact” rule with Trump voters, Maher’s message was clear: You aren’t being righteous—you’re being unserious.
“Everyone Sucks But Me”
The focal point of Maher’s ire was Kamala Harris’s new memoir of the 2024 election, titled 107 Days. Maher suggested a more accurate title: Everyone Sucks But Me.
The title 107 Days is, in itself, a framing of victimhood. It suggests that the Vice President was a tragic heroine undone by the cruelty of time. But Maher isn’t buying the “short runway” excuse. He points out the cold, hard numbers: Harris had the vice presidency, the full weight of the party apparatus, $1.5 billion in funding, and a “built-in army” of roughly 75 million people who would have voted for a “human-adjacent life form” as long as it wasn’t Donald Trump.
In the memoir’s narrative, the blame is distributed like glitter at a parade. It’s Joe Biden for not stepping down sooner; it’s Gavin Newsom for a perceived lack of enthusiasm; it’s even the American public for not being “ready” for her preferred running mate. Maher calls this “main character syndrome,” exemplified by the cinematic—yet ridiculous—anecdote of a staffer peeling “Madame President” labels off cupcakes on election night.
“That’s a scene from Bridget Jones Runs for President,” Maher joked. “It’s not leadership.”
The Political Block Button
Beyond the memoir, Maher took aim at the Democratic strategy of refusing to engage with the “other side.” He compared the party’s refusal to talk to Trump, his allies, or his voters to a “political block button.”
“Politics is not Instagram,” Maher warned. “You don’t get to mute half the country and then act shocked when they vote you out.”
The excuse for this avoidance is usually moral: “If we talk to him, we elevate him.” Maher’s retort was a heavy dose of reality: the man was the President of the United States and held the nuclear codes. He is already “elevated.” By refusing to get in the room, Democrats aren’t maintaining moral purity; they are ensuring they have zero influence.
Maher cited examples of those who actually moved the needle—CEOs, celebrities like Kim Kardashian, and even foreign leaders—by simply showing up. Trump, Maher argues, is a “people guy” who operates on personal relationships rather than 40-page policy briefs. If you complain he’s surrounded by “ass-kissers” while simultaneously refusing to enter the room, you have essentially guaranteed the outcome you claim to fear.
The “Worst Cliche” and The View
Maher also touched on the optics of the “Woman’s Party,” arguing that female Democrats are unfairly, but consistently, running against the worst cliches of how people perceive them. They cannot afford to look oversensitive, preachy, or—as in the case of Gretchen Whitmer’s viral Oval Office “hiding” moment—silly.
He saved a special barb for The View, criticizing the hosts for their five-day silence when Jimmy Kimmel was under fire. For a show built on “telling it like it is,” staying “as quiet as a geisha” until the danger passed wasn’t a sign of leadership; it was a sign of strategic branding. Maher’s point? Real courage only counts when the outcome isn’t guaranteed and the backlash is still loading.
Democracy is Not Therapy
The ultimate takeaway from Maher’s “flamethrower” segment is that democracy is not a form of therapy. You don’t have to like voters to represent them. You don’t have to feel morally validated by your opponent to negotiate with them.
The Democratic Party, Maher argues, has developed a “full-blown allergy to accountability.” When they lose, they blame misinformation, bigotry, or the media. They treat every loss as a failure of the audience rather than a failure of the performer.
If the party wants to stop losing winnable races and stop writing memoirs about how unfair the world is, they have to do three uncomfortable things:
- Talk to people they dislike.
- Admit when they screw up.
- Speak out when it actually costs something.
As Maher put it, “Less moral posturing, more moral courage.” Until then, they remain—in the words of Logan Roy—unserious people.