On James Comey's Book Tour, America's Daddy Complex Gets a Pacifier
PoliticsAlthough his name has become a shorthand hiss across the political spectrum, fired FBI director James Comey doesn’t present as an inherently interesting guy. That seems to be part of his appeal.
Comey, whom Trump recently dubbed the “worst FBI director in history,” is a center-right believer in the innate goodness of America’s law enforcement institutions, and possesses the affable demeanor of a little league coach, or a generic provider-type leaning casually over a barbeque in an Old Navy commercial. If I were to write a script for a movie about the life of James Comey, which I would find unpleasant, it would include wholesome lines like “These brussels sprouts are delicious, Patrice,” and “Say hi to your mom and dad for me, kiddo.”
The most interesting thing about James Comey is how wildly attractive these generic qualities have apparently become to a certain swathe of anti-Trump America, even amidst his very mixed record on Bush-era surveillance and torture programs, decisions he made leading up to the 2016 election, and his feelings on mass incarceration and law enforcement in general. Reputationally, he is still seen by many as independent-minded and in possession of some semblance of a moral code, which, though not necessarily rare qualities in a human being, sets him apart from many of the other political celebrities we’ve met in the Trump era. Pounded daily by the juvenile chaos and corruption of the Trump administration, we appear to have invented ourselves a new daddy.
The book tour for A Higher Loyalty, Comey’s highly publicized autobiography, officially kicked off on Wednesday at the Union Square Barnes & Noble in New York City. People waited in line outside for hours to secure wristbands. As I made my way into the back of the event space, the growing crowd sat patiently in their seats while a singer-songwriter gurgled softly over the loudspeaker. I found my place behind the chairs, where a woman who was sitting on the floor quickly made it clear that I was impeding her view and would need to immediately sit down. I got up a few minutes later to stretch, then accidentally sat back down on top of her legs, which she had moved. She gasped at me.
My attention was mainly focused on this intensifying relationship until Comey came up the escalator, to wild cheers and iPhone flashes. It struck me as similar to a Lil Yachty meet and greet I’d once attended, except the crowd skewed about 40 years older and the subject of our rapt attention was a middle-aged white man recalling how he briefed Donald Trump on the pee tape. As he took the stage, my new friend pushed past me to take a selfie with Comey in the background.