I felt like I was watching the Seinfeld Show. The debate reminded me of the famous episode, in which Jerry and George decide to pitch a situation comedy show to NBC, a show about nothing, about the interactive foibles of daily life, i.e. in the episode George and Jerry share with the audience the premise of the humor of the show they were watching (then America’s most popular).  “Debate about nothing” seemed to be the Romney performance strategy last night. Again, as in the first two debates, the Governor moved to the center, but this time he pretended to oppose Obama as he adopted all of Obama’s policies, for better and for worse: on Libya, Syria, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and drones. Romney pretended to bury Obama, as he in fact, praised his policies.

Romney expressed his opposition in his body language, in his characterization of Obama’s policies, in name calling, “apology tour” and all, as he supported substantively just about all the policies. Obama’s foreign policies can be and should be criticized by doves and hawks alike, by those who support torture as enhanced interrogation, including Romney until yesterday, and those, including me, who worry about the self-defeating sacrifice of human rights in the name of security, but Romney would have none of this. There is a pressing need for a serious foreign policy debate but Romney had a pitch planned and he professionally delivered it: a potential commander-in-chief, who is not too scary. I am impressed by his acting abilities, which did give reasons for some of his supporters and spinners to be pleased last night and leads me to despair about American democracy.

I can’t emphasize enough how strange Romney was, much stranger than George and Jerry. Of the three debates, last night’s was the most peculiar. As with the other two, it was viewed by the audience and by the performers mostly as a means to an end, deciding the election: less about competing policies and commitments, more getting votes. As with the other two debates, the performance of the candidates was more important than the substance of their positions. But what was striking to me in this debate was the raw cynicism of one of the debaters.

I have long been impressed by the dangers of cynicism in American politics. The first line of my book, The Cynical Society written in 1990: “I believe that the single most pressing challenge facing American democracy today is widespread public cynicism.” Last night, we observed a new high in cynical performance. Romney gave the audience what he thought it wanted to hear, unconstrained by principle, completely defined by interest.

We know from last night how the President conducts and will continue to conduct foreign policy. There was no hint from Romney what he would do. Cynicism is widespread in America, in the past and now, but it has limits. I believe that Romney went too far. Though he was “presidential” in his demeanor, the emptiness of his pitch made it unpersuasive. For this reason, I think, the polls suggest that the majority of viewers think he lost the debate, the overwhelming majority of independents and undecided voters think so, and as Nate Silver suggests, it may move the election just enough to significantly increase the chances of the President’s re-election. If the debate yielded a two percent movement in Obama direction, it would yield an increase from today’s seventy percent chance of an Obama victory, according to Silver’s model, to a eighty-five percent chance, one percent movement would yield an eighty percent chance and even a one half percent movement would yield a seventy-five percent chance. Obama’s debate victory last night does yield such movements, so: Obama wins!

There is a sense that the momentum since the debates has turned from Obama to Romney, while the structure of the Electoral College vote favors Obama. I think that it is now quite possible, given Obama’s command and steadiness, and the flashes of Romney as an empty suit, who will do and say anything to win, that the momentum will change.

Coming up, the last round: intensive campaign events mobilizing supporters. I think Obama can seal the deal if in his upcoming speeches and barnstorming he expresses his hopes and plans for his second term. This is the change in the campaign that I am looking for. It could have much more substance than last night’s debate. It could and should be about something.

As a supporter of Obama – Biden, I found the debate last night soothing. Biden performed well, better than Ryan. From my partisan point of view, it was a good night. After the first Obama – Romney debate, I had a hard time sleeping. Last night, I slept like a baby.

In form and substance, I think Biden was convincing, presenting passionately and clearly the case for re-election, providing Obama a proper introduction for a debate comeback. The contrasting approaches to the practical challenges of our times were on clear view and, I believe, Biden made the Democrats approach more cogent, while Ryan was not able to overcome the contradictions of the conservative Romney-Ryan approach.

First form: Republicans are in convinced. Biden was boorish, Gore – like, patronizing rude. Fred Barnes at the Weekly Standard summarizes their judgment: “You don’t win a nationally televised debate by being rude and obnoxious. You don’t win by interrupting your opponent time after time after time or by being a blowhard. You don’t win with facial expressions, especially smirks or fake laughs, or by pretending to be utterly exasperated with what your opponent is saying.”

Indeed Biden was highly expressive. He interrupted Ryan. He smiled, laughed and non-verbally belittled his opponent. I knew as I watched Biden’s performance that the Republican partisans would draw the Gore analogy. I worried, but was also enthused. Now that I have had a bit of time to deliberately consider the evening, I think that there was good reason for my enthusiasm.

Biden non-verbally framed the debate, deflecting Ryan’s criticisms, highlighting the thinness of the Romney-Ryan critique of the administrations foreign policy, and the contradictions of the Romney Ryan economic plans. Take a look at the embedded video. Notice that Biden’s expressive behavior was responsive to what Ryan was saying and that it is consistent with what we know about Biden, the man, how he presented himself last night and how he has presented himself in our experience.

Biden is an honest Joe, sitting at the bar, infuriated by the nonsense he is hearing, unable to control himself, wanting desperately to set the record straight. Herein lies Biden’s victory (I am thinking about the great sociologist Erving Goffman and his master essay “The Nature of Deference and Demeanor”). Far from being a weakness Biden’s expressions are at the root of his decisive victory.

Through his demeanor and his lack of deference, Biden managed to define the situation. He turned the evening in his favor. The debate started with Obama – Biden on the run. Romney had won the last debate and has been on a roll. His stock was up, Obama’s down. Romney seemed to be turning the election into a referendum over the Obama record, as he presented himself as a competent moderate Republican technocrat: no right-wing extremist he. Biden last night in his body language reversed the trend. Who are Romney and Ryan? And why are the saying what they have been saying about American foreign policy? With a puzzled frown, Biden underscored this question. And what are they saying about taxes, Medicare and Social Security? With a flash of a smile, Biden raised serious doubts about the veracity of what they have been saying.

Apart from this win, the debate was a success because each man presented his party’s position: on foreign policy, taxes and deficits, economic growth, social justice, and on the proper relationship between religious belief and public policy, including the issues of women’s rights and abortion.

As a partisan, I am very pleased that Biden made the positions of Obama and his party clear, with a full command of the facts. Ryan also presented his party’s positions effectively. As a theater critic, though, I am struck by the fact that Biden’s performance was more sincere, fluid and engaging. But I know that other theater critics, such as Peggy Noonan at that great theater review, the Wall Street Journal, with different politics, review the debate drama differently.

But theatrical performance, of course, is not really the issue. How the performance is defined by and helps define a script is. And this is why I think that not only did Biden win last night, but that Ryan and Romney lost. Their script is flawed, filled with contradictions about which they can’t, in the end, give persuasive account.

Their response to Obama’s foreign policy successes is to tell a story of weakness, of apology for America. They present a neo-conservative position, while not clearly identifying with the position as brought to us by Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld. They want to criticize Obama’s policies in North African and the Middle East, asserting the need for toughness. They criticize Obama for working through the United Nations, consulting with allies, dealing with Russia and China as they are, not as imagined Cold War enemies, but they have not presented alternative policies, which very well might not be popular. As Biden suggested: ground troops in Syria and a regional conflict, an international conflict in Iran with a global economic crisis, and continued American troops in Afghanistan.

On tax policy, Ryan claimed they had a plan but wouldn’t explain any details. Cut tax rates for the rich and middle class alike by twenty per cent, pay for it by closing loopholes and reducing deductions, with only the faintest hint of what would be closed and reduced. There’s a problem. Now Romney-Ryan want to claim that this will not affect the taxes of the middle class, but if it is born by the rich (oopps, I mean job creators), how would this lead to their supply side fantasies of an economic boom created by cutting taxes.

The Ryan plan of old was more about reducing the size of government and unleashing private entrepreneurship, unshackling individual creativity, advocating minimal government, his strong Randian inspired ideological streak, also the rallying cry of the Tea Party. Romney, the severe conservative, supported this during the Republican primaries and his choice of Ryan confirmed this support. Now the running mates are running away from this position, as is confirmed by both debates. Romney somehow pulled this off last week, a commanding performance. Ryan couldn’t.

Biden did his job. He has helped Obama by leveling the playing field for the next debate. Biden wins, and the campaign proceeds. I think with the advantage now turning in Obama’s favor.

We can call this first form of political fallibilism, as our sitting President has, self-conscious humility.  Jeff has highlighted what is good and worthy in this practice, especially when compared with strident ideological inflexibility. This argument has also been forcefully put forward in a long-standing controversy about the existence and nature of an “Obama Doctrine.” Some commentators approve of this policy, and others don’t; all agree that the Administration is trying, anyway, to strike a balance between “realism” and “idealism,” between Kissingerian realpolitik and George W. Bush’s “Freedom Agenda.” In other words, the Administration’s policy in Iraq, Afghanistan, and more recently (and more tortuously) in Libya, is all about recognizing political fallibilism, even if not always put expressly in those terms. More recently, over the past weeks, with the circus over the debt ceiling raging, and political leaders competing over who can use the words “imperfect” and “necessary” more often and in closer connection, we’ve seen the “domestic” side of this form of repudiating over-confidence with the uncertainty of political events. Whether at home or abroad, this form of political fallibilism is all about the recoginition of one’s limits. Not just the limits of one’s capacity to act under a certain constellation (such as not having limitless resources, not being able to “dictate” to other nations, or serving as chief executive during a period of divided government). But also, and more importantly, the limits of one’s ability to know the truth about matters that one must act upon. Who are the Libyan rebels? What might a post-Assad Syria look like? How many jobs will be created in the next 6, 9, 12, 18 months under this or that blend of interest rate lowering and/or stimulus spending?.

So far, I suppose, I do no more than provide some contextualization to Jeff’s thoughts, if I have succeeded in doing this much. However, without undercutting this form of political fallibilism, I want to point to a second, and I believe deeper form. To uncover it, we should remember the core convictions of (philosophical) fallibilism, as developed (among others) by the great American philosopher Charles Sanders Peirce. While easy to oversimplify, the heart of this epistemological position is not hard to briefly express. Let’s put it thus: it is neither true that there exists some knowledge claim that can be asserted with absolute certainty, nor is it true that every knowledge claim can be reasonably doubted. A fallibilist, in this sense, is someone who believes in the existence—and the importance—of what Plato’s Socrates calls “true opinion,” but also recognizes that both the subject who believes and the object of that belief are caught up in a developmental process: that all truth is historical. This does not commit one to the view that nothing is true, nor must one think that all beliefs are equally fallible. But it does mean seeing the fallibility as endemic to the possibility of knowledge, and not to the psychology of the knower, or the physical conditions of things to be known. One is not saying here, “I might be wrong about this, but…” Rather, one is saying, “I might very well be absolutely right about this, but even if I am, that about which I am right might very well not be what it is right at the moment. I might be right about it relatively soon.”

A classic example of this “structural fallibilism” is the perception of what Aristotle calls “common sensibles,” most infamously, perhaps, color.  The structural and the humble fallibilists both agree that there is no certain knowledge of color as such; while the humble fallibilist attributes this to the subjective conditions of the knowledge—that the senses err, that other minds perceive color differently than we do—the structural fallibilist says that what is actually “out there” to be perceived as color is context-dependent.  So to say, it’s not our “fault” that we will never perfectly perceive what’s “there,” it’s that, in a very real sense, there’s no “there” there.

And here we see, I think, a difference between the two forms. In the quote with which I began, Jeff—rightly, to my mind—underscored the deleterious role of “true belief” in undermining the possibility of the first form of political fallibilism: one cannot be ready to make political compromises (i.e., recognize the limits of one’s ability to act, responsibly) if one refuses from the outset to recognize the limits of one’s knowledge. At the same time, the second form of political fallibilism actually embraces “right opinion,” and calibrates one’s belief in that opinion not against the limited possibility for one to be right, but against the limited possibility for events to allow for being right. In both cases, one acknowledges fallibility.  The difference is that, while in the first instance, this is based on the certainty that one cannot infallibly assert their view, insofar as any view of things can be mistaken, in the second, one is rather certain that the object of their view is itself uncertain.  This is what makes fallibilism in the second sense an anti-skeptical position.

This second form of fallibilism has an analogue in the political arena. In place of the “humility” of the first form—which is still focused on the psychological and physical conditions of the knower who would act in public, the structural form puts before us the possibility of holding contradictory beliefs, while understanding them as bound within separate spheres. Humility-fallibilism leaves you saying something like: “It is my earnest conviction that, but…” Structural fallibilism provides the space to say: “Given that it is my earnest conviction that the United States can never stand by idly as dictators murder their own people in the streets, and that it is my earnest conviction that the United States cannot use military means to ensure that all people, everywhere, can live free of such indiscriminate violence, it is clear that one or the other of these two convictions will be violated when the decision is made to intervene militarily when a dictator decides to use indiscriminate force against unarmed citizens. All the same, I am going to act, confident that I can never know if events will vindicate my decision, but also that I have acted on the best of my knowledge.” Under this scenario, the fallibilist can embrace the uncertainty of political developments as an end, and not merely as a means, of the cultivation of open societies.