Smart Scottish political strategists should grasp Harris' "weird" tactic with both hands for 2026

“They’re weird.” It’s the insult that exploded across US politics like a dropped hand grenade. And it worked.

When current American Vice President and presidential candidate Kamala Harris slapped "weird" on Donald Trump's campaign, it rattled them unlike anything else the Democrats have ever said. It’s not difficult to see why. The Trump campaign’s entire sense of self comes from seeing themselves as the voice of authentic blue-collar, cold beer-drinking, Americans; any insinuation of “weirdness” runs directly counter to that.

Many in the UK and Scotland resent it, but our politics is still, in many ways, downstream from that of America.

Kamala Harris has used Trump's "weirdness" to great success.

Examples of this are not hard to find. Their formerly sane, big tent, right-of-centre, conservative party has gone off the deep end, ours is in the process of it. They’ve been being unpleasant about immigrants for a while, we’re getting round to it. They had a mouthy stereotype with trademark unusual hair in their highest office, we had Boris Johnson.

It’s not every time, but there’s clearly a pattern.

“Weird” has worked in the race for the White House. Vice President Harris is currently outpacing the muted and roughed-up Trump campaign and the momentum is with her. The efficacy of this bold strategy will have spin doctors in Scotland thinking, or should, how they might use it. Because, in the race for Bute House, “weird” could be a powerful weapon.

The obvious target for this sticky label in Scotland is the SNP, and it could be stuck on in several interesting ways.

For example, canny public relations pros working for the other parties might home in on the endless and relentless psychodrama that has engulfed the party. They could go after the Sturgeon versus Salmond ding-dong or the bitter race to replace the former as leader. They could also focus on how figures like Kate Forbes or their former MSP Ash Regan have rocked the formerly solid foundations of the party’s legendary discipline.

Or, if pushed for time, they could remind everyone about Operation Branchform and clock off for a boozy lunch. It’s all a bit, well, “weird”, no?

Of course, those looking to replace the Nats might consider going after their external performance rather than their internal theatrics.

The party’s embrace of certain controversial progressive policies, particularly on ever-explosive gender issues, may well provide a great hook on which to attach the label of weirdness. As could their insistence that, despite being at the helm of one of the world’s most powerful devolved governments, they have been hamstrung into imposing callous and painful spending cuts. That’s a bit weird. Or it certainly could be framed that way.

Being thought of as “weird” could be as damaging to the SNP as it is to the Trump campaign because of one shared characteristic.

It has nothing to do with policy. The SNP and Donald Trump’s Republicans are about as different on policy as can be. Rather, their similarity arises from self-image. As mentioned above, both parties pride themselves on being the voices of their respective nations.

The SNP has built an identity around speaking for Scotland as a unified whole.

It has never been true, Scotland is as politically pluralistic as most places, but the Scottish National Party’s central tenet is that it speaks for the everyday mass of Jock Tamson’s bairns. “A Future Made in Scotland,” “Stronger for Scotland,” and most of their other slogans speak to that. It’s an identity the SNP has used to great success and anything that would threaten that, like being thought of as “weird”, will cause them unease. It should.

Who deploys the W-Bomb in Scottish politics is to be seen but the obvious candidate is Anas Sarwar’s Scottish Labour. They’re the SNP’s main challengers and probably have the most to gain from its effective use. The Scottish Tories are probably too tarnished by similar issues that make them vulnerable to being seen as “weird” to use it; their UK-wide colleagues and the behaviour of Douglas Ross not having helped them one bit in those terms.

Whether or not Sarwar and his team, or anyone else, has the political nerve to use “weird” in the slightly less dramatic, chummier environment of Scottish politics remains to be seen.

But with the 2026 Holyrood election looming, allowing such a useful tool to remain in the toolbelt, especially with such a vulnerable target would be a serious misstep for any serious political strategist.

Kamala Harris is an inspiringq figure with tremendous acumen, an impressive CV, and the nous and experience to know what works. She picked out weirdness as a key flaw in her opponent and deployed it expertly. Time will tell if anyone in Scotland can follow suit.