By Stephen Macaulay

Glenn Youngkin held Donald Trump at arm’s length during his run for a seat that Thomas Jefferson once occupied. More or less. (It is hard to imagine Jefferson suffering a fool gladly or otherwise.)

It seems that Trump was more interested in Youngkin than vice versa. Trump probably saw that Youngkin was a contender, and if that resulted in a victory, then he could take credit for it.

Youngkin isn’t dumb. He knew that there was more downside to being against Trump than being rather non-committal about the whole thing (relatively speaking: various other Republican candidates have shown embarrassing subservience to their defeated leader).

Youngkin, who points out on his website that he started his working career “washing dishes and frying eggs at a diner in Virginia Beach,” spent his career at The Carlyle Group. The Carlyle Group? “We manage $293 billion in assets. . . .” It is probably as far away from cooking two eggs over with a side of ham as you can get.

Again, according to youngkinforgovernor.com, while at the investment firm “His efforts have helped fund the retirements of teachers, police officers, firefighters and other frontline public servants and supported hundreds of thousands of American jobs.” One also assumes that his efforts helped pad the coffers of those who never ate eggs in a diner, people whose names are conceivably in the Pandora Papers.

Under the headline “Why I’m Running,” Youngkin’s first sentence is telling: “I’m not a politician.” Somehow that is laudable. Would you go to a dentist who was running to head the local dentist’s association who wasn’t a dentist him-or herself? There is a certain Trumpyness now associated with the “I’m not a politician” stance, but it is far from being definitive. (When Rick Snyder ran for the governorship of Michigan in 2010 the non-politician venture capitalist presented himself as “One Tough Nerd.” That’s separating oneself from being a politician.)

He goes on to point out, “I’m guided by my faith, values, and an unshakeable belief that Virginia should be the best.” Perhaps the last was inspired by Melania Trump’s anti-bullying campaign, just said somewhat more coherently.

Youngkin notes the ways he has answered when he “heard a call to service”: “ Glenn volunteered to coach multiple youth basketball teams, and he served on the boards of many non-profit organizations, including the Virginia Ready Initiative, Virginia Tech’s Innovation Campus Advisory Board, the Museum of the Bible, and the Meadowkirk Retreat Center.” The man clearly was in the trenches of “service to others.”

This is an interesting humble brag: “When COVID-19 hit Virginia, Glenn and Suzanne founded the Virginia Ready Initiative, a nonprofit, public-private partnership dedicated to helping Virginians who are out-of-work get the training they need to secure in-demand jobs.” When COVID-19 hit Virginia, Glenn didn’t come out in favor of masks and name-checked one of Trump’s former faves, Florida governor Ron DeSantis, when it comes to anti-masking for school children. Perhaps there wouldn’t be so many Virginians out of work were the pandemic under control.

The question of whether other Republicans will follow Youngkin’s playbook is perhaps simply not one that is particularly germane, outside of making claims like “I’m not a politician” and “I’m guided by my faith” and not stepping on Trump. These are tactics, not strategy. That’s the bigger issue.