Biden Is Angry but Not Serious

To say this is to see immediately why

Joe Biden

bombed in Philadelphia. FDR rallied the nation against Hitler and Mussolini, and Reagan did the same against the “evil empire” of the Soviet Union. Mr. Biden sounded like an overwrought sophomore by pretending that MAGA Republicanism presents a similar existential threat to democracy, and the next day he showed that even he didn’t believe his own claim that all Trump supporters were threats to the country.

Yes, it was full of nasty stuff. But in the end it was more Beltway bathos than menace. Surely it’s damning that what so many people seem to remember isn’t Mr. Biden’s message but the nakedly political use of the uniformed Marines behind him (calling Gen. Mark Milley)—and the neon illumination that made the stately face of Independence Hall look like the entrance to a bordello in some red-light district.

Even more striking was the tone. Gone was genial Joe from Scranton, the man who persuaded Americans that he would give them a calm and drama-free presidency. In its place was

Dark Brandon,

a superhero saving America from imaginary armies of fascism.

This Joe Biden seems to think anger conveys seriousness. But apparently no one inside the West Wing is asking whether these outbursts really help him—or only underscore his failure to do anything about what he’s complaining about.

Former

Barack Obama

adviser

David Axelrod

understands. In February, after the president’s remarks on

Vladimir Putin’s

invasion of Ukraine, he tweeted that Mr. Biden was having a “strong night” but added that “he too often confuses anger with energy, and lapses into

Clint Eastwood

in Gran Torino.”

Mr. Biden well knows voters aren’t happy with him. For all the talk about his legislative victories and a fortunate drop in gas prices, the president obviously isn’t confident those will prove decisive when Americans go to the polls. He’s not the first politician to calculate that his best path to victory is to paint political opponents as not merely wrong but evil and pray voters end up hating the other guys more than they hate him.

Let’s face it, this is a president who’s mad as hell and wants everyone to know about it. In July, for example, he tweeted out his anger at “companies running gas stations” whose high prices at the pump didn’t “reflect the cost you’re paying for the product.” He wants us to know he’s also mad at the Supreme Court for overturning Roe v. Wade. He’s reportedly even furious with his own White House aides for their lack of respect for what he says in public—and their irritating and frequent habit of correcting him whenever he unleashes a whopper.

He repeatedly snaps at members of the press who ask tough questions, whether it be about inflation (“stupid son of a bitch”) or about surveys showing up to two-thirds of Democrats would prefer a 2024 presidential nominee other than him (“Read the polls, Jack. You guys are all the same”). At an AFL-CIO convention in June, Mr. Biden directed his anger more broadly at anyone who doesn’t appreciate how wonderful his presidency is, almost yelling, “I don’t want to hear any more of these lies about reckless spending. We’re changing people’s lives!”

So Mr. Biden’s problem is hardly that he’s not angry enough. Many Americans are also angry at the way things are going today. But they want their problems fixed. Instead, President Biden merely huffs and puffs. The persistence of all these problems—high gas prices, the erosion of paychecks because of still-high inflation, the chaos at the southern border, the humiliation of our bungled exit from Afghanistan—is persuading people that the job is too big for him.

Macbeth calls life a “tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” Which isn’t quite true, at least for a White House. If Joe Biden isn’t able to fix the problems he’s railing about, his sound and fury signifies the one thing no American president can afford: impotence.

Write to mcgurn@wsj.com.