On Wednesday morning, in a move that had been telegraphed for some time yet was still momentous, House Speaker Paul Ryan announced he would retire at the end of this term. Ryan's exit not only could put his own seat in play, it has the potential to seriously alter an already volatile electoral landscape for both Democrats and—especially—Republicans.
Ryan first won southeastern Wisconsin’s 1st Congressional District in 1998 after working for several years as an aide to various members of Congress, including Sam Brownback. Ryan succeeded GOP Rep. Mark Neumann, who made an unsuccessful bid for the Senate that year, and easily won both the primary and general elections. Once in office, he never faced a serious challenge for re-election and always won by double digits.
Ryan rose to prominence in 2010, the year Republicans took back the House, by pushing a plan to radically slash both taxes and spending, particularly Medicare. A credulous press regarded him as a sincere intellectual, even though his proposals were based on fraudulent math—a Paul Krugman column memorably dubbed him “the Flimflam Man.” His aim of gutting entitlements endeared him to the conservative establishment, though, and helped win him a spot as Mitt Romney’s running mate in 2012. (Even though the ticket lost, state law allowed Ryan to simultaneously run for his House seat.) Eventually, he rose to the pinnacle of House leadership.
But in mid-December, following passage of the GOP's bill cutting taxes on the wealthy, reports began surfacing that Ryan's speakership (and with it, his congressional career) appeared to be nearing its end. While some Republicans refused to believe it—Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker claimed Ryan told him he was "not going anywhere"—Ryan's ascension to the speakership in the wake of John Boehner's surprise resignation in 2015 was marked above all else by extreme reluctance.
Ryan had to be forcibly drafted by his colleagues after Boehner's heir-apparent, California Rep. Kevin McCarthy, abruptly withdrew his own name from consideration. Ryan only accepted the job after demanding that the unruly Freedom Caucus give him their support, and after publicly insisting he wouldn't curtail his weekend visits to his family in Janesville, a pledge he apparently kept. Yet all that family time didn't stop Ryan raising truly prodigious sums for his party, including $54 million this cycle alone.
That prolific fundraising is something the GOP might soon miss. Even if Ryan maintains his hectic schedule, now that he's stepping down, he's unlikely to be the same draw for wealthy conservative interests that he once was. Ryan's exodus could also damage Republican morale and recruitment and might even lead to more retirements. After all, who wants to charge into battle when your own general has decided to abandon the field? (NRCC chair Steve Stivers bravely concurred that Republicans would see “under 10” more departures, to go with the 39, Ryan included, they're already facing.)
Indeed, Ryan's choice may reflect his own calculus of the GOP's increasingly dim odds of holding the House. Had Ryan sought re-election but seen his majority slip away, remaining in Congress would likely have been untenable. Republicans in recent decades have had a way of making it clear to their speakers that losing is unacceptable: Newt Gingrich resigned after unexpectedly losing seats in the 1998 midterms, and Denny Hastert did so after losing the majority outright in 2006. Rather than join such an ignominious list, Ryan upended precedent and decided to walk off of his own accord—the first House speaker to do so while his party controlled both Congress and the White House since 1902.
Ryan's absence could impact the Democratic game plan as well. Some Democrats had been gearing up to make a foil of Ryan, who is vastly more unpopular—and more closely associated with the GOP’s failings—than Donald Trump, in much the same way Republicans have demonized Nancy Pelosi. And the early tests had been positive: Conor Lamb attacked Ryan in TV ads for wanting to gut Medicare and Social Security, to great success. With Ryan gone, will such campaigns still be effective? Considering that Republicans still run ads attacking Hillary Clinton, Democrats are sure to try making Ryan their punching bag—he's still speaker, after all.
As for his own seat, Ryan had earned a spirited challenge from ironworker Randy Bryce, whose viral launch video helped nationalize his campaign and raise millions of dollars in small donations from progressives eager to take a bite out of the speaker’s hide. (Janesville School Board Member Cathy Myers is also running in the Democratic primary.) Democrats will no longer be able to run against their favorite bogeyman, but at the same time, whoever wins the GOP nomination to succeed Ryan also won’t have his $11 million war chest.
Wisconsin’s 1st District (which now includes part of suburban Milwaukee) has always been solidly red turf, though, so this was always going to be a tough race. But interestingly, while Trump carried the seat by a 53-42 margin, Mitt Romney only won here by a considerably narrower 52-47 spread—even though Ryan himself was on the ticket and won his own House race 55-43. We’ll take a more detailed look at the playing field in the next digest, but given the way 2018 is shaping up for Democrats, a seat like this could definitely wind up in play, especially given the message Ryan’s retreat sends to Republicans.