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John James

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What Michigan's 2026 candidates revealed during a week of debates

They called it Debate Week, but the three televised clashes this past week between Democrats vying for their party's U.S. Senate nomination and Republicans competing for the GOP's gubernatorial nod was more like Shark Week for Nerds.

Candidates, like their aquatic counterparts, are quick to strike, merciless and, when they sense blood in the water, go into a feeding frenzy.

On Tuesday, July 7, Democrats Abdul El -Sayed and U.S. Rep. Haley Stevens went head-to-head at WOOD-TV (Channel 8) in Grand Rapids, days after state Sen. Mallory McMorrow took the only sure-fire route to survive a shark attack: She got out of the water.

On Wednesday, July 8, and Thursday, July 9, Republicans Mike Cox, U.S. Rep. John James and Perry Johnson chawed on each other at WOOD-TV and Fox 2 Detroit (WJBK-TV).

The Democratic debate was the second time I've watched El-Sayed and Stevens on stage together, but the first time their only target was each other.

The Republican debates were the first times James, a former Army helicopter pilot who tried to fly above the fray, shared a stage with his rivals. And, after securing the coveted endorsement of President Donald Trump, he landed in the middle of a crossfire where he was the prey.

How did things go?

Who did well?

What questions were answered?

Which questions were raised?

And did (fill in the blank) really say that?!?

Sit back, Gentle Reader, as your ol' pal M.L. cuts through the fog and gets you back onshore in one piece by watching every minute of every debate — so you wouldn't have to.

Two to tango

At the risk to taking this fishy metaphor too far, Stevens occasionally looked like she was drowning at the debate on Mackinac Island with El-Sayed and McMorrow during the Detroit Regional Chamber's annual policy conference in May.

She dodged a couple questions, offered a puzzling explanation for another, and seemed to be trying too hard to highlight her knowledge of and love for Michigan.

A lot has changed since then.

Stevens appeared more comfortable on stage in Grand Rapids, had a clear game plan, and hammered on key points designed to undermine El-Sayed's standing as a humble progressive committed to looking out for the less fortunate — and to cast him as the weakest candidate in a matchup with presumptive Republican nominee Mike Rogers.

Crucially, Stevens finally came up with a counter to El-Sayed's charge that she would be a tool of the Israeli government as a senator bought and paid for by the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, better known as AIPAC, whose campaign funding arm has pumped millions into her campaign.

Ironically, Stevens' best defense came from the one Israeli that El-Sayed and his supporters hold most responsible for the devastation of Gaza and the wars raging in the Middle East — Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Hours before the debate, Netanyahu criticized Stevens on CNN, accusing her of "trying to probably excuse anti-Semitism" after he was informed she had criticized his policies.

But debates should be judged on content, not style.

That's also good news for Stevens, because El-Sayed is one of the most poised, disciplined and compelling candidates Michigan has seen in years. Unlike Stevens, who appeared twitchy in some of the shots where she was on screen while El-Sayed was speaking, El-Sayed seemed perpetually comfortable and confident while on screen as Stevens spoke.

As for substance, the former head of the health departments in Detroit and Wayne County relentlessly hammered home his populist message that what really ails America is corporate corruption. Adding, in a thrust at his well-funded opponent, "we also don't need politicians bought off by corporations."

"I'm a threat to politics as usual," El-Sayed said.

Stevens, who is vastly outspending El-Sayed on political advertising, cast Trump as the greatest threat to Michigan.

The one thing the candidates agree on is that Trump is ruining America. They differ in how far they will go to counteract some of his policies.

Both agreed that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is out of control.

El-Sayed said he went to Minnesota after ICE agents killed two protesters and he wants to abolish the federal agency, which traditionally had focused on border control.

Stevens said she called for the resignation of Kristi Noem, who previously oversaw ICE as the Secretary of Homeland Security, and wants to send funds designated for ICE to state and local police. She stopped short of calling for an end to ICE.

While El-Sayed emphasized how much campaign money Stevens has raised and challenged her integrity for taking contributions from corporate political action committees, Stevens tried to shift the focus to El-Sayed's money: She faulted him for failing to disclose personal finance records, and said he is getting millions in campaign support from shadowy sources.

"Abdul is lying," Stevens said. "He has a Super PAC that is run by his father-in-law."

When I asked the Stevens campaign after the debate whether they could back that claim up, they sent a statement that said: "Abdul has said repeatedly that he won’t release his personal financial information because his wife’s family has complicated finances. Now, we know his father-in-law is pouring hundreds of thousands of dollars into his Super PAC."

A Super PAC is a political action committee that can raise and spend big bucks to support a candidate. And El-Sayed's father-in-law has generously donated to a Super PAC supporting him. That may give El-Sayed's father-in-law a big say in how the PAC spends its money, but it's not definitive proof he's in charge.

In an apparent counterpunch to Stevens' claims that he is not transparent, El-Sayed told reporters he would release his personal financial data before the Aug. 4 primary.

Back on Mackinac in May, shortly after former U.S. Sen. Debbie Stabenow endorsed Stevens, I told some fellow scribes that I expected establishment Democrats to begin pressuring McMorrow to get out of the race to boost Stevens' chances against the insurgent and surging El-Sayed.

When I shared this theory with a Democratic insider, I was told the opposite was true: Stalwart Dems wanted McMorrow to stay in the race to draw progressive votes away from El-Sayed.

I don't know what happened in the six weeks since we got back to the mainland, but it was clear in that debate on the island that McMorrow — by zeroing in on Rogers and Trump, rather than her rivals — was trying to strike a delicate balance between progressives and mainstreamers.

That's a smart strategy for a general election, but it's also like losing in the first round of the playoffs by using a game plan that won't work until the championship.

El-Sayed and Stevens have never taken their aim off each other.

"It's the money versus the many," El-Sayed said.

"I am fed up and fired up," Stevens said.

Meanwhile, Mr. Rogers is saving his dough and enjoying the show.

In case you missed it

For those of you behind on the news, or preparing to colonize Mars with Elon Musk, James wasted no time letting everyone know he was endorsed by Trump.

Three seconds into the July 8 debate at Fox 2 in Detroit, James mentioned the endorsement.

Twenty-eight seconds later, he did it again.

James brought up the Trump endorsement so many times that I lost count. Curiously, he barely mentioned it 24 hours later in the WOOD-TV debate. More on that in a minute.

While there's no question Cox and Johnson were heartbroken that Trump tapped James instead of them, they took solace in finally getting a chance to get their licks in on the elusive congressman.

When Cox and Johnson weren't busy praising each other's policies — especially calling for the elimination of Michigan's income tax, though Cox took pains to claim he came up with the idea first — they pounded away at James in the two debates.

From accusing him of being a "nepo baby" for taking over a company his father started, to questioning whether the company created the jobs it promised when it got $2 million in state aid, to accusing him of being a disingenuous climber who only wants to be governor as a stepping stone to run for president, Cox and Johnson proved something I learned as a young reporter in New Hampshire: If you really want to know who the front-runner is, don't watch the polls, watch which candidate takes the most shots.

For all his ducking of debates, James was composed and confident under fire.

I've seen James in person at political events a couple times this year, and he always seemed carefully managed, highly programmed, and almost robotic in the way he repeatedly stuck to talking points before being ushered away after delivering his message of the day. Seeing his ability to roll with the punches in Detroit and Grand Rapids — and giving as well as he got — made me wonder why he has been so elusive and so scripted.

James wisely tried to defuse some of the impending fireworks by opening the first debate by telling the audience: "Tonight, you're going to hear a lot of things. I'm going to be focusing on you. My opponents are going to be focusing on me. So, while we're attacking the issues, they're going to be attacking me because, frankly, resorting to deceit and defamation is what they do because they're desperate."

During the first debate, Cox, who on Mackinac Island told me he was confident he would win Trump's support, said: "I don't need the president's endorsement to be a fighter and a winner for the people of Michigan."

That was not his only pivot of the night.

But first, let's examine how the contestants sparred over the definition of "winner."

Cox said James wasn't a winner because he lost two statewide races — for U.S. Senate in 2018 and 2020 — before finally getting elected to Congress in 2022. Cox touted himself as the only Republican who can win statewide in November, citing victories in his 2002 and 2006 races for Attorney General.

James said Cox wasn't a winner because the last time he appeared on a statewide ballot — in the 2010 Republican gubernatorial primary — he finished "a distant third place." He said the last time Cox won an election was before the iPhone was invented.

Cox punched back that he won his 2002 AG race against Gary Peters, who James lost to in the 2020 U.S. Senate race. (Peters decided to retire from the Senate this year.)

Besides pivoting from the importance of Trump's endorsement, Cox's most impressive shift was away from his hardcore MAGA platform to emphasize his battles as AG with utility, health care, and the pharmaceutical industries.

But it was Johnson — the richest guy running for office in Michigan — who put the most emphasis on the need to lower the cost of living.

"What are the real issues?" Johnson asked rhetorically. "The issues right now are economics."

Johnson repeatedly recalled the days when he couldn't afford a submarine sandwich. Now, he seemingly can afford a nuclear sub; assuming, that is, that he doesn't blow all his loot on running for office.

Johnson, a quality control guru, has spent millions running for governor in 2022, president in 2024 and, again this year, for governor. He said funding his own campaign gives him the independence to make tough choices without worrying about contributors.

Cox and Johnson repeatedly slammed James for taking contributions from donors who support data centers, which are something all three candidates said they would oppose, or at least put major restrictions on.

If you watched the first debate and skipped the second figuring two jawfests from the same gasbags within 24 hours was more than you could bear, you missed two very different debates.

James, who couldn't stop talking about Trump on July 8 in Detroit, spent more time talking about policy and punching back at Cox on July 9 in Grand Rapids.

When asked how they would maintain services if they kept their pledges to eliminate various taxes, all three candidates parroted the Republican mantra of cutting "waste, fraud and abuse," and said they expected tax cuts to trigger substantial economic growth.

The Grand Rapids debate included more policy discussion, but also revealed there is general agreement on the need to lower taxes and the cost of living, improve education by emphasizing phonics, increase skilled trades training, cut regulations, closely monitor the rapid growth of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and rein in utility costs.

It was also more peevish and personal, with the candidates questioning each others' credibility and honesty.

Johnson, who drew the least fire because he doesn't have a track record in public service and hasn't held office, didn't quite walk away unscathed for casting himself as an outsider.

"You're just a failed politician," James told him.

Maybe it was because, like boxers, they changed things up after getting some time in the ring together.

Or maybe they were just eager to strike a blow after taking a chin shot the night before.

Whatever the reason, Cox, James and Johnson were mighty sassy during their second date.

That really happened

If Johnson were running in a Democratic primary, his incomprehensibly and epically bad decision to use a cliche for candor could have ended his campaign: In the midst of a lively exchange between all three candidates over how many jobs James' family company created, Johnson said: "Let's call a spade a spade."

That adjective, which also describes one of the four symbols found on playing cards, is also used as a racist slur against Black people. James is Black. Johnson is white, though you can be forgiven for thinking he's orange due to his Trumpian perma-tan.

Neither James nor Cox, who is also white but often appeared red because his blood pressure seemed to be surging, seized on Johnson's gaffe. If they had, perhaps Johnson would have dismissed their criticism as more woke-ness which, in many GOP circles these days, seems to be a greater sin than racism.

James got his own dig in about 20 minutes later, however, making a comment that could be called ageist.

In a rebuttal to Johnson's claim that James was beholden to campaign contributors, James told the 78-year-old: "Perry, I know that when you were born, Black people could be bought and sold in this country. But nobody owns me."

A few minutes later, James added: "Perry's got more dollars than sense."

Both of James' congressional victories were close races. Given Trump's low approval ratings, combined with historical trends suggesting Republicans will lose their majority in the U.S. House of Representatives after the Nov. 3 general election, there's no guarantee James could have won a third term.

"When it gets hot, you jump," Cox said, adding there's another reason James is moving on. "You don't want to be governor. You want to be president."

That was one of the better ripostes from Cox, who appeared so amped up and eager to get his licks in that his mouth sometimes failed to move as fast as his mind.

As Cox stumbled while trying to deliver the name of his johnjameslies.com website, James seized on a minor controversy from the first debate, when a photo appeared to reveal a talking point Cox had scribbled on one of his palms.

"If it's not on your hand," James jabbed, "you may need some help."

James didn't stick around after the first debate at Fox 2 to take questions from reporters. And he was the first candidate to leave the "spin room" WOOD-TV set up for reporters to quiz candidates.

Cox and Johnson will no doubt criticize him for that. And candidates who don't take questions should concern all of us.

Everyone should decide for themselves who won the debates, but I think the one thing we learned is that James is capable of delivering more than the canned talking points he has been delivering since this race began.