IT IS BAD form to be dour, doubting or dissenting at a coronation. And Democrats are a well-behaved lot. On July 21st President Joe Biden abandoned his bid for re-election, less than a month before he was to be formally nominated at the party’s convention in Chicago. One day later, his anointed successor, Vice-President Kamala Harris, had secured the spot before any simulacrum of a contest could even begin. Mr Biden transferred his whole campaign infrastructure immediately; his campaign renamed itself “Harris for President” within hours. Her mooted opponents went prostrate: every sitting Democratic governor had endorsed her within a day.

The switch was not regarded with scepticism, but with relief. The party watched in agony as Mr Biden tried to salvage his candidacy after his debate disaster on June 27th. All the while, Republicans were completely united around Donald Trump, who had surged in the polls and appeared messianic after an assassination attempt nearly took his life. Relieved of the albatross of Mr Biden’s bid, Democrats have entered a state of collective euphoria. “It’s the future versus the past now,” says Jake Auchincloss, a Democratic congressman from Massachusetts. “Seventy percent of Americans said we want the top of both tickets to change…Democrats just did it and Republicans didn’t.”