It’s remarkable, in one sense, how little Buttigieg’s sexual orientation has come up in the primary so far, considering that only 10 years ago, the election of a lesbian woman as Houston’s mayor was enough to make national headlines. But regardless of the reasons behind his depressed support, Buttigieg’s candidacy is a case study in the dilemma facing gay and lesbian candidates running at all levels of office today. It’s hard to know how much that discomfort truly matters - even a number of the skeptical focus group voters were still open to supporting Buttigieg - and to the extent that it exists, it’s certainly not confined to one group. And another scapegoat has emerged: Last month, a leaked memo described the results of a focus group conducted by Buttigieg’s own campaign in July, which found that some black voters in South Carolina were uncomfortable with his sexual orientation. Voters of all races may also balk because he has faced criticism for his handling of the predominantly white police force in South Bend, where a white officer recently shot and killed a black man, and for implementing economic policies that some feel ignore or harm communities of color. His lack of statewide or national political experience is one potential stumbling block. There are plenty of reasons, of course, why Buttigieg might struggle to gain traction among more voters. But as his profile has risen, murmurs about how his sexual orientation might affect his bid have gotten louder and louder. Always something of an underdog in the Democratic primary, Buttigieg has started to poll well in Iowa and New Hampshire relative to his national numbers and has proved to be a formidable fundraiser.
There’s nothing like a national election to illuminate the complex and slippery nature of bias at work in the country today.