The speech concentrated mainly on his biography--again. One hesitates to say this because McCain is an authentic hero; his bravery is something that very few of us, least of all this writer, could ever aspire to match; and knowing what inner resources he brings to his candidacy is of course an essential part of his appeal--but how many times does this story need to be told? This week his audience has heard it over and over again. Endless repetition must eventually dull its impact. His heroism and his capacity for sacrifice in the service of his country are unquestioned. By the end of the week, it could have been left at that.

Reaching out to the centre should have been regarded as a priority because of the Palin nomination. For the moment, that looks like a great success: she gave an amazing speech and, to the consternation of the Democrats and a large part of the US media, triumphantly vindicated McCain's decision to select her. But Palin is a social conservative. Yes, maybe she can bring in centrists as well: that possibility makes her an instant force to be reckoned with in American politics. But right now it is no more than a possibility. She has energised the base--that much is certain--but her views on abortion and other social issues will alarm many centrists who might have been leaning to McCain. Having delighted the base, he needed to rebalance the ticket by moving deftly to the centre himself. Securing the base was necessary but not sufficient: the Republicans cannot win without independents.

Mr McCain, one imagines, would prefer victory to glorious defeat. Yet his centrist gestures were confined mostly to underlining his maverick instincts, his taste for bipartisanship, his willingness to go against party orthodoxy, and his appealingly frank criticisms of what the Republicans had achieved, or failed to, during the Bush years. All that was fine, as far as it went, but much too general. Give us examples. Offer some reassurance that this will not be the right-wing ticket that the Palin nomination suggests it could be. Yes, that would have risked disappointing the hall, but the hall has been very well catered to this week and it was a risk worth taking.

More detail was needed in its own right, too, not just to rebalance the ticket. Once Palin blew the doors off the convention on Wednesday, bringing the torrent of derision over her nomination to an abrupt halt, lack of specific proposals in the Republican platform became the principal line of criticism--and unlike the response to the VP pick, this was a well-aimed attack. In his own superb speech at the end of the Democrats' convention, Obama took pains to list a series of specific policies. McCain needed to match that or better. He not only failed to do so, but he made the gap all the more obtrusive with the part of his speech that mentioned by name families and individuals that were struggling for one reason or another. McCain said he would honour them and work for them. Good, but how, exactly?

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that McCain's biggest mistake in this campaign has been in failing to develop a market-friendly proposal for universal health care. Mitt Romney did it in Massachusetts so do not tell me a Republican cannot go there. That plus Palin would have given him a shot at the base and at independents too. It would have cemented his appeal to middle America, which is much preoccupied with the worsening failure of the US health care system. Not to mention, it would have been the right thing to propose on the merits. If he had done this, I think I would be betting on McCain-Palin right now. Ceding the issue to the Democrats, in my view, was a mistake in every way. And I groaned to hear his attack on Obama's health plan, falling back on the old "socialised medicine" line, which is a travesty.

It was not a safe speech, though at the beginning, when she was talking mainly about McCain, I thought it was going to be. She had a pair of difficult acts to follow, because both Mike Huckabee and (especially) Rudi Giuliani gave terrific barnstorming speeches before she came on. (Let's not dwell on Mitt Romney's bizarre contribution.) She not only touched on her own biography, in ways sure to delight small-town Americans across the land, she also asserted her command, as the governor of an oil-producing state, of the energy debate. Had Democrats forgotten that this is a key issue in the election, and one on which they are trailing the Republicans in public opinion?

I was surprised that she dared to attack Obama-Biden on national security and foreign policy, where her credentials are weak: here she was saying, I'm not afraid of you. In fronting her own executive experience, comparing it favorably (and not without justification) with Obama's, she dared to mock the Democratic nominee. That too was a risk, because mockery easily backfires--ask the Democrats about that tonight--and it paid off. All the barbs--"he has written two memoirs but not one piece of legislation," and so on--went home.

Well, the Democrats have a problem. They had a few days of calling her a clueless redneck, a stewardess, a nonentity, and she has hurled that back in their bleeding gums. (If I were Joe Biden, I'd start practising for October 2nd right now.) Even before tonight's speech, they had backed off the "no experience" strategy, because (as the Republicans intended) that was sending shrapnel in Obama's direction. Their line right now is their default mode, that McCain-Palin is four more years of George Bush. But this too is a completely untenable strategy, since the Republican ticket now looks stunningly fresh to voters, as fresh in fact as Obama-Biden. Where they will have to end up is obvious: McCain-Palin is an extreme right-wing ticket. It is a team that will prosecute the culture war against all that is decent and civilized in the United States: that must be the line.

Aside from further surprises in her biography, this--not her supposed inexperience--is the vulnerability that Palin has brought to the McCain candidacy. We need to hear her questioned on those issues. How unbending a social conservative is she? So much as to frighten the independents McCain needs? McCain is not a culture warrior. That is not the campaign he wanted to fight. At the moment, however, this factor seems massively outweighed in electoral terms by the excitement she has brought to the campaign. The party cannot believe its luck. They want to win again, and suddenly they think they can.

What one next wants to know is how Americans at large react to what they saw tonight. I will be surprised if they were not very impressed.

Update: CNN on why the speech was a problem for McCain: "Well, he has to speak tomorrow night, and as we know, he is no governor of Alaska." Flexibility you can believe in from the best political team on television.

At the same time, though, her arrival on the ticket threw the first day's pace off a little. With Palin nowhere to be seen, day one, as they say, buried the lede. The idea was to devote it to introducing John McCain, but is any American politician less in need of an introduction?

The tributes were well enough done. True, Bush's reference to McCain's spirit being more than a match for the "angry left" was a bit puzzling. (Does anybody even in this hall think that Obama represents the angry left?) But Thompson's funny, punchy speech had everybody asking, why wasn't he like that during the primaries? Aside from the sustained ovation for a fallen soldier, Thompson got the biggest cheer of the night. ("And we need a president who doesn't think that the protection of the unborn or a newly born baby is above his pay grade.") His speech even had a morsel of policy content (taxes are a bad thing), which otherwise would have been entirely absent from the day. But there was nothing very surprising and, thanks to Palin, it all seemed a little beside the point.

Lieberman's speech certainly ought to have seemed surprising, but his apostasy is old news. Eight years ago, this man was Al Gore's running-mate; now here he was speaking up for the Republican nominee. He rested his case on the fact that McCain is an extraordinary man and these are extraordinarily dangerous times. But he said little to elaborate. He got a round of applause for Bill Clinton--no mean feat with this crowd--when he contrasted Clinton's occasional willingness to work with Republicans with Obama's record. And he got one big laugh: "If John McCain is just another partisan Republican, I am Michael Moore's favourite Democrat." If I had been just another of the partisan Republicans packing the hall, I might have been a little insulted by that, but the audience either failed to make the connection or was in a generous frame of mind.

Most Democrats by now detest Lieberman, of course, but one other thing he said might persuade those who don't to get with the program. He not only praised McCain's support for the surge of forces into Iraq (fair enough), but contrasted this with Obama's "voting to cut off funding for our American troops on the battlefield". That was tendentious at best, and the most aggressive attack on Obama of the day. Obama has never argued for funding to be cut off; he wanted a timeline for withdrawal attached to the funding. He did vote against a funding bill that failed to include such a provision; but then Lieberman himself, and most Republicans, also voted against a funding measure that did include such a provision. One way or another, almost everybody has voted against funding for the troops. Lieberman's charge was unfair, and did not sit well with his appeal for one-nation bipartisanship.

And then again, there is Palin. Lieberman, widely thought to have been McCain's first choice for VP (McCain is said to have switched because the base would not wear it), applauded the selection. "Governor Palin, like John McCain, is a reformer. She's taken on the special interests and the political power-brokers in Alaska and reached across party lines to get things done. The truth is, she is a leader we can count on to help John shake up Washington. That's why--that's why I sincerely believe that the real ticket for change this year is the McCain-Palin ticket." Lieberman and McCain see eye to eye on national security. But Lieberman is pro-choice on abortion, and a social liberal in other respects as well, whereas Palin is a social conservative. Genuine though his admiration for McCain may be, stretching his endorsement to the whole ticket seemed a stretch too far.

One last observation. Barring breakdowns later in the week, the Republicans have won the platform war hands down. The Democrats had their cheesy game-show set followed by the much-derided Greek column thing. The Republicans have a clean, reflective stage in front of an enormous high-definition screen, used so far to excellent effect. If I were with the DNC, I'd find out who was responsible and book them for 2012.

The other good news for the McCain campaign is that many Democrats are mishandling the issue as badly as they mishandled the nomination in the first place. There is a tone of exultation over the Palin family's difficulties that will strike many centrists, and decent people regardless of ideology, as repellent. Again, to his enormous credit, Obama himself was the exception. What a class act he is. He reminded reporters that he is the son of an unmarried mother, said the families of candidates and especially their children should be off-limits, and told the press to drop the story. It won't of course: it will mine it for all it is worth. But Obama said the right thing and gave every sign of meaning it.

I think part of the outrage one sees in much of the press and TV coverage of the Palin nomination is disappointed amour propre. We had not been talking about Palin; Palin had not occurred to us; therefore, by definition, Palin was not a worthy contender. Of course, it may turn out that she is not: knowing so little about her, we are not yet in a position to say. But it would do the press a world of good if she proves us wrong.

At the very least, despite the Republican instinct to rally round, and the Democratic instinct to pile on, the news takes the shine off the Palin nomination. And there are dangers ahead as the digging proceeds. My first thought was to wonder if McCain had known about the pregnancy when he announced his choice. He says yes--as he had to. If it should somehow turn out that he didn't know, then he would be guilty both of lying about that and of the too-hasty judgment in nominating Palin he is accused of. If on the other hand he did know, his choice was surely all the more risky and all the more remarkable.

Barring more surprises, it still comes down to how Palin fares in speeches and interviews from now on--and above all in the debate with Biden on October 2nd. If Biden makes her look a fool, McCain's gamble will have failed, and I don't see how he can recover. If she impresses, McCain will likely be in a much stronger position than if he had chosen a safer VP. Whether he knows it or not, McCain has staked everything on this choice. Meanwhile, if the Democrats had any sense, they would follow their leader's dignified and expedient example, shut up, and wait and see. Luckily for the Republicans, they apparently don't.

I recommend this piece (a report from the Palins' home town) by Nathan Thornburgh for Time. I was also struck by this email from a reader, representative of many others I have received:

My wife was on the fence in this election, and is pro-choice. She does not like McCain, and is lukewarm about Obama and Biden.

The Palin pick energized her to call me from work, email me, and--are you ready?--send in $$ to the McCain camp. I was floored (she voted Kerry last election.) She says the story of Palin (which she spent two hours on line researching) has touched her heart, inspired her, and that is enough. She and her friends are meeting Wednesday for dinner (six to nine women) "to talk about Sarah . . . and Hillary."

Not Governor Palin. "Sarah."

My college daughter is reacting the same way and sent McCain $15.00.
I think there is something happening that I don't fully understand, but there it is.

Time will tell.

I think many people are surprised to discover that McCain intends to carry a positive message into the fall. Many of us had assumed that this election would be a referendum on Barack Obama, with McCain serving as an inoffensive backup for those too unsure of the junior senator from Illinois. Just a few weeks ago, I used this logic to argue that McCain should select Mitt Romney, as he was the best among the viable picks to go after Obama.

John McCain clearly does not share this view of the race. By picking Palin, he is signaling that he intends to win this election not just by attacking Obama, but by offering an affirmative message of his own.

What is that message? It is that he represents change, too. It's not the "drastic" change that Obama represents, but rather "common sense reform" (scare quotes reflect what we will hear from McCain-Palin, not non-partisan reality). McCain is indicating that he, too, is a candidate whose election would alter the status quo - not as much as Obama's election would, but alter it nonetheless.

Indeed, it is interesting to consider the two tickets. The fresh but inexperienced candidate is at the top of the Democratic ticket; the experienced pol who, even after all these years, "calls it like he sees it" is at the bottom. With the GOP, it's reversed. These tickets are mirror images of one another. The message to voters from McCain? If you're unhappy with the status quo in Washington, but are worried that Obama-Biden would be too drastic a change, vote McCain-Palin.

So, the public gets a pretty sophisticated choice this year. It's not a choice between change versus more of the same. It's a choice between degrees of change. I like this. And while I have no idea how Palin will play, I like that McCain believes he has to offer something positive and new to win.

The rallying-point is the proposed Employee Free Choice Act (EFCA), a measure co-sponsored by Barack Obama and already passed by the house of representatives. Mr Obama promises to sign it into law as president, if the senate moves it forward and it reaches his desk. Politically and on its merits, however, this is an ill-advised piece of legislation.

EFCA's most sought-after provision is a "card-check" rule that would oblige employers to recognise a union and bargain with it if half the workforce signed cards saying that they were in favour. Labour law varies from state to state but the current procedure usually requires a secret ballot, which protects workers from intimidation. John McCain has opposed the change and advocates a Secret Ballot Protection Act instead.

The unions have a point when they complain of intimidation by employers. EFCA would stiffen penalties for firms that bully union sympathisers, which is both desirable and good politics. But the card-check initiative is what the party is emphasising, and otherwise pro-union voters are bound to have mixed feelings about it.

A secret ballot protects workers who want union recognition as well as those who do not. That is why opposing it arouses suspicion. Membership has fallen at least partly because workers themselves doubt that unions best serve their interests, and with reason. Opposition to secret ballots does not reassure them. It is a self-serving demand, and plays badly with the centrists the Democrats need to bring in. It is bad politics, therefore, as well as bad law.

A broader question is whether weak unions are part of what ails the middle-income workforce. Their decline probably explains some of the wage slowdown--although the most striking aspect of the country's growing inequality is the astonishing growth in the very highest incomes, an unrelated issue. The right kind of unionism can raise wages and advance workers' interests while improving a company's competitiveness. The wrong kind, as the UK knows only too well, can cripple industries and indeed whole economies.

The secret of success, arguably, is a culture of accommodation and non-confrontation. Unions can make it easier for firms to work in closer partnership with their employees, to their mutual advantage. But if the relationship is framed as nothing but a contest over rents--a zero-sum game, with no holds barred--the drawbacks seem likely to predominate. What may concern centrist voters is that Democrats are apt to press the unions' case in precisely this spirit of confrontation. Anti-business sentiment is a dominant note at the convention. EFCA's most enthusiastic advocates would like nothing better than to grind the faces of the bosses. You do not have to be a boss to be wary of that.

[This article appeared in the FT yesterday. The last paragraph was cut for space except for its first sentence, which on its own is either mystifying or absurd, according to taste--as emails to me have pointed out. So, with apologies if you have seen the edited piece already, I thought I would post what I filed.]

Both of the Clintons gave outstanding, memorable speeches, and they formed two parts of a single whole. As I said yesterday, Hillary's attack on the Bush administration and John McCain--underlining what was at stake in this election--carried sustained force and conviction. In the plainest terms, she told her supporters to vote for Obama. Up to then, many were still wavering, and some were determined to abstain or worse. For the first time, she denied them permission to do so. Nonetheless, the case she made rested on what was wrong with Bush and McCain, rather than on what was right about the Democratic nominee. She held something back.

The next night, Bill made good the deficit. People say he is still angry over the way the Obama campaign accused him of exploiting race, impugned his record as president (not as "transformative" as Ronald Reagan), and disrespected his wife (failing even to consult her on the vice-presidential nomination). If those really are his feelings, he disguised them brilliantly. There was no trace of recrimination, and his finely crafted speech dwelt almost exclusively on Obama's fitness for office. In one surprising stroke, he even congratulated Obama on his choice of Joe Biden as running-mate--a consolation prize Hillary seems to have wanted. Obama's first big decision, Bill said, was to nominate his vice-president, "and he hit it out of the park." That was extraordinary.

These excellent performances do somewhat diminish the new team. Biden's speech, following quickly after Bill's, was lame by comparison. The delivery was faltering, and the substance routine. Yes, Biden showed he has the common touch, which many find lacking in Obama--but if the electorate sees Barack as aloof and cerebral, choosing a likeable deputy does not put that right. And the fact that the Clintons so dominated the first three days of the convention, making it their show as much as Obama's, was less than ideal.

Still, unless they swerve again over the coming weeks, the Clintons cannot be accused of letting the party down. This serves their interests, of course: it keeps alive Hillary's hopes of another run at the presidency should Obama lose in November, and it restores Bill's own standing in the party. Whatever their motives, however, and despite the fact that the Clintons are a hard act to follow, Obama must be pleased. They most likely succeeded, after all, in uniting the party around him. Better late than never.

Call me a courageous explorer in the mold of Lewis and Clark if you want, but I did something insanely brave here: I traveled alone, on foot, all the way across the convention floor.

This is actually a lot harder than what Lewis and Clark did. Yes, they had to cross thousands of miles of hostile wilderness surviving on pine needles and squirrel jerky. But that's nothing compared with the obstacles I faced. Spike Lee, for example.

Here's a minute-by-minute account of my ordeal:

7:40 -- I get a temporary media floor pass, which allows me to be on the floor for exactly 30 minutes. If I don't return the pass by 8:10, something bad happens, although they don't tell you exactly what, so you have to assume waterboarding.

7:41 -- I step onto the convention floor and am immediately caught up in a surging mass of humanity consisting of every Democrat who has ever lived. Grover Cleveland is in here somewhere. Yes, he died in 1908, but the crowd is so dense that he is unable to fall down.

7:43 -- Somewhere in the distance is the podium, where an important Democratic dignitary is speaking about Change. He is for it. Down here on the floor, we are wishing that our fellow surgers would change to a stronger deodorant. We are pressed together so tightly that some of us could easily wind up pregnant by as many as eight different people, and I am not ruling out Grover.

7:48 -- Through intense effort I manage to surge maybe eight feet, where the path is blocked by a TV network that has set up a platform on the floor so its reporters can report on the convention by talking to each other with their backs to the actual convention. There is huge excitement in the surge as people catch glimpses of both Anderson Cooper and Wolf Blitzer, who are, in this environment, the Beatles. The surgers all stop, whip out cellphones, and take pictures of the backs of the heads of people who are taking pictures of the backs of the heads of people who might actually be getting direct visual shots of Anderson and Wolf. It is a lifetime convention memory.

A lot of previously wavering Democrats will be wondering if they have chosen the wrong nominee; even more will be wondering if it was a mistake to deny her the VP slot. But one can hardly blame her for that. The convention wanted a great rousing speech and it got one.

Was it a whole-hearted endorsement of Obama? Having watched an hour or so of instant commentary--which for the most part said yes, it was--I find I disagree. Certainly, there was nothing mean in the speech (though I wondered about the repeated reference to "universal" health care: a coded rebuke, maybe, since her campaign continually stressed that Obama's plan falls short of that). And she certainly told her supporters to vote for him. That was crystal clear. She did not give them tacit permission to stay at home, still less vote for McCain.

So she cannot be accused of sabotaging Barack. If he fails, after this, she will be available in 2012. But there was almost no praise. (Compare Rudy Giuliani and Mitt Romney on John McCain.) She made the case for a Democratic president, but not for Obama. What she said, in a superbly effective way, was that another four years of Bushism made voting for Obama necessary--in so many words, whatever reservations one might have about him.

I'm sure the speech helps Obama. Much as Hillary still wants to be president, she erred in that direction. Maybe she will get her reward in four years. But it was not an entirely selfless speech. I think she could have helped him more, had she chosen to.

Update: I've just read Josh Green's take. Hillary goes out with a whimper? About as much passion as a Wednesday night city council meeting? Good grief, Josh, were we listening to the same speech?

Barack Obama's 500-plus bundlers have raised at least one-fifth of his total cash. Most of the money John McCain has raised has resulted from the efforts of just over 500 bundlers--a plurality of whom are lobbyists. Bundlers, who are now listed for both Obama and McCain in OpenSecrets.org's presidential section, collect checks from others for a single candidate and "bundle" them together. Starting with the conventions, where they're invited to the best parties and given prime seats inside the hall, each bundler stands to be well connected should his or her candidate win the presidency.

Not that they need the boost. Among the bundlers are some of the richest people in the world, including hotel and casino magnate Sheldon Adelson (third richest, according to Forbes magazine), oilman George Kaiser (ranked 26th) and filmmaker David Geffen (ranked 52nd). A decade ago such high rollers would simply write a check to their party of choice, but campaign finance reforms prohibiting that--ironically sponsored by McCain--now curtail party donations at $28,500. To get around that, these socialites are boosting their candidate's bottom line with a little help from their friends.

Lax rules on corporate funding of the conventions also constitute a significant loophole in the campaign-finance rules:

Private money, expected to exceed $112 million for the two conventions combined, will pay for an estimated 80% of their cost. As of August 8, 2008, 173 organizational donors -- overwhelmingly corporations but also several trade unions -- had been identified on convention city "host committee" websites. These organizations have responded to solicitations from partisan elected officials and fundraisers dispatched by the host committees. These solicitors have dangled promises of access to grateful federal elected officials.

My spirits sagged, and even then only a little, at just two points. It's starting to annoy me that Barack keeps telling us how he turned down Wall Street for a career in "public service". By this he means politics. Just how great a sacrifice is that? The kind of ambition that gets you into the Senate and maybe the White House is not exactly renouncing the world and all its temptations, is it? And now here we have Michelle doing the same thing. She gave up lawyering, she says, and chose "public service"--the kind that leads in due course to a 300k-plus salary. I've no problem with it. I just don't want to keep being asked to admire the sacrifice.

The other dispiriting thing was the stuff with the girls at the end. They are cute, and the traditions of American politics must be observed, no doubt, but it makes me uncomfortable to see children used as political props. One ought to feel much the same way, I suppose, about spouses. At a couple of points in this campaign, when Michelle has come in for criticism, Barack said, "leave her out of this." At those times I remember thinking, he's right: the country is not electing her. Maybe, in fact, it is: in any event, you can't have it both ways.

A little earlier, the ailing Ted Kennedy greatly moved the audience with a most dignified address--a speech that was all about the country and Obama, and not at all about him. And yet, as I say, the first day seemed somewhat drifting and unfocused. With three days still to go, it is too soon to complain of complacency. But the Democratic campaign is in trouble. So far, you would not know it from the mood in Denver.

Next, Anne-Marie Slaughter (describing herself as Mr Krugman's boss at Princeton) asked the eponymous Kos (Markos Moulitsas), Jane Mayer (author of a new book on civil liberties and terrorism), and Van Jones (environmental campaigner) to give President Obama "five to seven minutes of advice". They ignored her, even though she set a good example with a crisply stated agenda of her own: close the prison at Guantanamo; apply the Geneva conventions without exception or equivocation; green the economy; rebuild the international institutions so that they give the emerging powers more voice; and combat nuclear proliferation. Are you listening, Mr President?

The others, also with new books to promote, had interesting things to say about them. My reading list keeps growing. And Mr Moulitsas provided the most surprising statistic of the week. He said the median age of his readers was 45, and that he had more readers aged 65 or over than under 25. Blogging looks to be a dying industry.

Barack Obama has promised to back the law. Among other things, it would compel union recognition if more than 50 percent of a company's workforce signed cards affirming their wish to be a member: no secret ballot required. The opportunities for intimidation are obvious. (A recent TV ad opposing the measure shows a Mafioso-type heavy offering a worker a card and a pen, as a bunch of thugs stand by.) Advocates of the law say that union-recognition elections are corrupted by employer intimidation, and the so-called card-check method is therefore necessary. Speaking as a worker, and bearing both kinds of undue pressure in mind, I would rather take my chances with a secret ballot. Other pieces of EFCA are less indefensible, and it is a shame to see them tethered to this plain infringement of civil liberty, but the unions want card-check more than all the rest, and the law's advocates regard the measure as indivisible.

Security for the event is certainly daunting. Supposedly 42, or is it 53 or 55, separate agencies are involved in the exercise, run from a "situation room" in a secret location. That is a characteristically American solution: the bigger the problem, the more agencies you apply to it. Even at altitude, these things breed. You need agencies to co-ordinate the agencies, and so on.

Picture the scene: 42 (or 53 or 55) agencies, licensed to inflict limitless inconvenience on anyone in their way, seamlessly pooling their resources and expertise, so that the whole thing runs like clockwork. What could go wrong?