Harris recounts Walz's VP debate performance in new memoir, detailing frustration and selection process

Former Vice President Kamala Harris recounts in her memoir, 107 Days, that she hoped Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz would be the “closer” at the Oct. 1, 2024 VP debate, believing he could deliver when she would not debate Donald Trump again. The book portrays a tense moment during the televised confrontation with Republican candidate JD. Vance, as Harris writes that she looked to Walz to seal the case for their ticket while acknowledging the high stakes of a debate with a sitting governor who was defending his record.

Harris details a moment of personal frustration during the exchange, describing how she turned to her husband, Doug Emhoff, while watching the live coverage. “When Tim fell for it and started nodding and smiling at J.D.’s fake bipartisanship, I moaned to Doug, ‘What is happening?’” she writes, portraying Vance as a skilled, “shape-shifter” who appeared affable even as he pressed attacks. The memoir quotes Harris indicating she believed Walz had been duped by Vance’s “mild-mannered aw-shucks” approach and that the debate’s dynamic hinged on Walz being the one to push back on the attacks.

Harris argues that the “closer” role was not a comfortable fit for Walz, noting that he fretted about his ability to debate. She writes that she had assumed his strengths as a campaign speaker—his quickness and concision at rallies—would translate to the podium, but she acknowledges in hindsight that the assignment carried an unusual pressure. The book also recounts her assessment of Vance’s performance, including her labeling of him as a “shape-shifter” who could pivot his tone while advancing a critique of the ticket’s record. The discussion of Walz’s pause and the way he answered questions—particularly about whether he had ever claimed to be in Hong Kong during the Tiananmen Square protests—appears to reflect gaps that Harris says he later regretted not filling with clearer framing.

Harris writes that Walz had been on track to teach in China that summer but had not yet left the United States on the date of the Tiananmen event. Rather than simply admitting a scheduling mix-up, he described his dates ambiguously and cited biking in Nebraska as a diversion from the issue. The portrayal suggests a disconnect between Walz’s public persona and the details voters expect to hear in a high-stakes debate. Harris’s account portrays her running mate as attempting to respond in real time, while she pressed for a sharper, more mission-focused approach. The chapter also notes the broader context: the decision to place the debate emphasis on a close, attack-ready delivery, and the heightened scrutiny that comes with representing a party in power while facing a formidable opponent.

In the book, Harris also references a moment of cultural note after the debate—a Saturday Night Live sketch that she says mirrored the moment of watching with her husband and spouting wine in disbelief. She notes that while she did not literally spit wine, she found the depiction uncannily accurate in its portrait of the couple’s evening. Harris writes that Walz felt remorse for not performing better, and she reassured him that the election would not be decided by one debate, stressing that its impact on polling had been negligible.

Beyond the debate itself, 107 Days delves into how the campaign team evaluated the pick. Harris writes that her senior staff strongly favored Walz, a former congressman and twelve-year governor, and that her godson, as well as her sister and brother-in-law, also preferred him. She adds that her husband’s input weighed in—though she ultimately decided to go with Walz, she says she told staff that she did not want any more input and settled the choice after a practical moment—she prepared a tasty pork roast rub and went to bed, deciding on Walz for the ticket.

The memoir also contextualizes the personal toll of a presidential campaign. Harris writes that she encouraged Walz to remain resilient in the face of what she describes as unfair attacks on his record and on his family. She quotes a line she says her experience as a prosecutor once taught her: the higher one rises in politics, the more intense the fights become, and the more a candidate’s inner circle can become both a source of strength and a potential vulnerability. The book describes a difficult balancing act for the vice presidential pick: how to project calm competence while managing the inevitable political onslaught and personal scrutiny.

In detailing how the Walz pick came to be, Harris notes that the senior staff’s backing played a major role. She writes that the decision was “always going to have to be my decision,” and that she weighed input from family and close advisers before arriving at a verdict. She recounts a private moment of reflection that culminated in a simple, domestic ritual: she prepared a pork roast rub, a small act that she says helped focus her before the final decision. The passage underscores the human dimension of the campaign and the ways in which personal routines and professional judgment intersect in the lead-up to a national election.

The account in 107 Days offers a rare window into behind-the-scenes dynamics during a contested campaign, including the management of the VP debate, the perceived gaps in a running mate’s performance, and the stresses of balancing public expectations with private concerns. Harris’s narrative about Walz’s strengths and missteps, Washington politics, and the decision process to select a running mate contributes to the broader discussion about how campaigns calibrate candidate personas and debate strategies in real time. The book’s descriptions of the debate, the interpersonal exchanges, and the strategic calculus around the Walz pick will likely feed into ongoing analysis of the 2024 election cycle and the lessons parties draw from it for future campaigns.