For months, Democrats running for statewide office in Texas have been trying to get their Republican opponents onto debate stages.
So far, they have had little success.
The most striking example is the U.S. Senate race between Republican Attorney General Ken Paxton and Democrat James Talarico. When Paxton’s campaign was asked in July whether he intended to debate Talarico, a spokesperson offered what sounded like a straightforward answer: “of course we’re going to debate.”
Yet with early voting approaching, Paxton has not accepted any of the invitations extended to the candidates.
Talarico, by contrast, has accepted at least four invitations from CNN and local television stations. He has even challenged Paxton to debate on Fox News in a forum moderated by Bret Baier, an invitation the network subsequently agreed to host.
Paxton’s campaign has not said whether he plans to participate.
If no debate happens, Texas could head into a general election for U.S. Senate without one for the first time in roughly a quarter century.
But Paxton is hardly alone.
Across Texas, Republican nominees for some of the state's most important offices have shown little interest in accepting debate challenges from Democrats. Gov. Greg Abbott has not publicly agreed to debate Democratic nominee Gina Hinojosa, despite having debated his Democratic opponent during each of his previous three campaigns for governor.
Democratic lieutenant governor nominee Vikki Goodwin and attorney general nominee Nathan Johnson have likewise called on their Republican opponents to debate. The campaigns of Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick and Republican attorney general nominee Mayes Middleton have not publicly committed to doing so.
The apparent exception is the race for Texas railroad commissioner, the statewide office that oversees the oil and gas industry. Democrat Jon Rosenthal announced in late September that he and Republican Bo French had agreed to an Oct. 22 debate, although French has not publicly confirmed the event.
Taken together, the reluctance raises an obvious question: Why wouldn't Republican candidates want to debate?
The answer may have less to do with fear of answering questions than with a cold political calculation about risk and reward.
Challengers have more to gain
There is nothing unusual about Democrats demanding debates. Challengers, particularly those with lower name recognition, almost always have an incentive to get their opponents onto a stage.
“There’s an old axiom in political campaigning that the underdog always wants to debate because they don’t have very much to lose,” Rice University political science professor John Alford said.
A debate offers a challenger something money cannot always easily buy: an audience that is paying attention to both candidates at the same time.
It can also create the defining moment of a campaign. A strong answer, a devastating attack or a serious mistake by an opponent can generate news coverage and social media clips long after the candidates leave the stage.
The better-known candidate often faces the opposite calculation.
If voters already know who you are, giving your opponent 60 or 90 minutes of equal airtime may not offer much upside.
That dynamic appears particularly relevant to Abbott.
Hinojosa has repeatedly pressed the governor to debate and has accepted four invitations from local television networks. During an NBC News appearance last week, she escalated her criticism.
“He’s refusing to debate, trying to hide from his record. But listen, if he’s not man enough to debate me, he shouldn’t be governor of Texas,” Hinojosa said.
Abbott's reluctance would represent a break with his previous campaigns.
He debated Wendy Davis in 2014, Lupe Valdez in 2018 and Beto O'Rourke in 2022. He went on to win all three elections by double digits.
The political environment this year is different. A handful of public surveys have shown Abbott trailing for the first time during one of his gubernatorial general-election campaigns.
“In his previous races, he was such a heavy favorite that he didn’t have much to gain or lose either way,” Southern Methodist University political science professor Matthew Wilson said. “This time, he faces a closer race, and so I think he has to do a more strategic calculation about whether he has more to gain or lose in a debate setting.”
That calculation cuts both ways.
A debate could give Abbott an opportunity to make his case directly against Hinojosa and potentially change the trajectory of the race. But it would also give Hinojosa a statewide platform alongside a governor who has spent more than a decade building his political profile.
For Abbott, declining may simply be the safer bet.
Paxton presents a different calculation
The Senate race makes the debate question more complicated.
Paxton is not an incumbentent senator protecting a large polling advantage. Public polling has consistently shown a competitive race, with Talarico narrowly ahead.
That would ordinarily create an argument for debating.
But Paxton has long shown little enthusiasm for the format. He declined to debate Democratic opponents during each of his three campaigns for attorney general.
A debate with Talarico would also inevitably touch on the controversies that have followed Paxton through much of his tenure in statewide office.
Wilson said the format would give Talarico an opportunity to confront Paxton over legal and ethical controversies, many of which have been resolved but remain politically useful material for an opponent.
Those are “things that he’d rather not talk about,” Wilson said.
Talarico has tried to turn Paxton's reluctance into a campaign issue of its own.
“Ken Paxton’s handlers claim he’s willing to debate, but every time a reporter asks a question, he literally runs away,” Talarico said in July. “He hasn’t set foot on a debate stage in over a decade and refuses to answer the public’s questions because he’s not a public servant — he’s a puppet.”
In September, Talarico challenged Paxton to the Fox News debate.
“I’ll go into the lion’s den because I know what I believe. I am proud of my record. And I’m not afraid of hard questions. And Ken Paxton is running from a fight,” he said.
The rhetoric is politically predictable. If Talarico cannot get Paxton onto a debate stage, his next-best option is to make Paxton's absence itself part of the campaign.
Debates aren't what they used to be
The larger story may extend beyond Texas Republicans.
Candidate debates have been gradually losing their central place in American elections.
Decades ago, campaigns depended heavily on newspapers and a relatively small number of television networks to reach large audiences. A televised debate was one of the few opportunities voters had to watch candidates interact for an extended period without campaign staff controlling every moment.
Today's media environment is almost unrecognizable by comparison.
Candidates can reach millions of voters through social media, podcasts, cable television, streaming platforms, rallies and carefully targeted digital advertising. Supporters can spend an entire campaign consuming political information without ever watching a traditional debate.
Polarization has also reduced the number of genuinely undecided voters who might be persuaded by what happens on stage.
Wilson said debates below the presidential level tend to “really only matter” when somebody makes a serious mistake.
“If both candidates perform reasonably normally and as expected, debates are unlikely to move the needle very much,” he said. “The people who do watch, for the most part, are not undecided voters, but it’s voters who are watching to cheer for their guy.”
That reality helps explain why candidates increasingly view debates as an optional campaign tactic rather than an obligation.
The voters still lose something
Republicans may therefore have perfectly rational political reasons for avoiding debates. That doesn't necessarily make their disappearance good for voters.
Campaign rallies are designed for supporters. Television ads are designed to persuade. Social media posts can be scripted, edited and tested before anyone sees them.
Debates are imperfect, but they force candidates into an environment they cannot completely control. They have to defend their records, respond to criticism and react in real time.
That is especially valuable in statewide contests where millions of voters may know relatively little about one or both candidates.
There is also an accountability argument that applies regardless of party.
If Democrats were protecting comfortable leads and refusing to debate Republican challengers, the same concern would exist. The issue isn't that Republicans owe Democrats television exposure. It is whether candidates seeking some of the most powerful offices in Texas owe voters an opportunity to see them questioned side by side.
Still, campaigns exist to win elections, not preserve political traditions.
If Republican candidates conclude that debating gives their Democratic opponents more opportunities than it gives them, there is little strategic incentive to participate. And unless voters begin punishing candidates for refusing, that calculation is unlikely to change.
That may ultimately be the most important part of what is happening in Texas this year.
Democrats want debates because they believe debates could help them. Republicans appear increasingly willing to decline because they believe debates could hurt them.
Both sides are behaving according to their political incentives.
