It may surprise some to know that feminists do not stand unified behind the woman who is frequently portrayed as a feminist icon and the presidential candidate of choice for all women. The dominant narrative of monolithic feminist support for Clinton has drowned out dissenting voices, instead focusing on the significant number of well-known feminists who publicly support her. Opposition to Clinton’s feminist status and suitability as the US President, whether coming from the political left or right, is commonly dismissed as nothing more than sexism.

Even now, ten months after he announced and nine after he first took his continuing lead in national polling, there is still a stubborn tendency among paid-up political commentators to believe that Donald Trump may fall short of the nomination. Outright Trump denialism of this kind will fade after his triumphs on 15 May, but there are many other ways of not taking Trump seriously. One is to insist that his political views are not deeply held, that he’s a mere opportunist, that even now his campaign is just a bid for publicity, and that in the end, we shouldn’t take what he says at face value.

Ben Carson comes from a long tradition of Black conservatism, ‘one that is rooted in a belief in religious morality, personal responsibility, self-help, individualism and free-market enterprise.’ Throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth century, Black leaders such as Booker T Washington espoused an accommodationist strategy for Black advancement. Rather than directly challenging white supremacy through political means, Black conservatives argued the most effective way of improving African-American prospects was through economic mobility.

For the first time in the modern history of the United States, a nationally televised presidential debate revolved around the relative merits of capitalism and socialism. More remarkably still, one of the candidates vigorously defended the latter side. The Saturday Night Live take on this year’s first Democratic primary, therefore, was keenly anticipated. Few, however, expected the coup de grâce that ensued: Larry David, briefly a writer for the show in the mid-1980s who would later go on to phenomenal success with the shows Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm, strode up to the podium and delivered a pitch-perfect rendition of the Vermont senator.