That one ‘weird’ trick? It’s working.

The talking points employed by the Democratic and Republican Parties are usually predictable, especially during the Trump era. So the choice by Democratic politicians and pundits of referring to Donald Trump and his running mate JD Vance as “weird” is unusual and gaining attention.

Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz is credited by many as starting this trend, but notable Democrats Pete Buttigieg, Chuck Schumer, and Kamala Harris herself have used weird to describe everything from Trump’s digressions during rallies to Vance’s criticism of “childless cat ladies” with no stake in America’s future.

The tactic seems to be working and Trump/Vance defenders have yet to find an effective rebuttal.

One reason weird has gained so much attention is because it doesn’t rely on the typical narrative of Trump as an existential threat to the country. Political experts have expressed grave concern about Trump since as early as 2015, with Yale historian Timothy Snyder posting on X just a month ago, “Unless Trump loses, America ends.”

How is it that such dire advice from experts couldn’t accomplish what a mild playground taunt has?

One possible explanation is that America is suffering from outrage fatigue. Across the political spectrum, Americans are exposed to constant anger, ridicule, and hate. Even expert advice on Trump’s dangerousness becomes a mere drop in that huge ocean. Americans have become jaded and (understandably) desensitized to the language of extremes.

Weird operates from within a different framework, a form of political activism called laughtivism that proponents argue is the most effective way to undermine authoritarian power.

Laughtivism got its start among Serbian political activists in the 1990s who were searching for ways to challenge Slobodan Milosevic. One of those activists, Srdja Popovic, published Blueprint for Revolution describing how people living under brutal regimes may feel hopeless but nonetheless have a wide range of effective nonviolent tactics to challenge the system.

Laughtivism utilizes mundane tactics that poke fun, often in silly ways, at threatening forces. A typical example is showing up at white supremacist rallies with flour and pretending to mishear their call for “White Power!” Laughtivist counterprotesters call back, “White Powder?” and toss the flour their way.

While seemingly childish, there’s a logic to laughtivism: too frequently, the menacing disposition of hate groups and authoritative governments cause people to freeze in fear and hopelessness by focusing on the ever-present threat. Laughtivism approaches those political forces with a lightness and attempts to undermine the grave solemnity those political forces count on to control the public. You don’t fear what you can belly laugh at. Moreover, laughter brings people together, bonding them in joyous ways.

Admittedly, weird is not at the overt level of the spectacle of throwing flour onto marching white supremacists. But it is working within the laughtivist tool kit of pulling back from meeting grave threats with equally grave warnings.

Weird is gently poking fun at the ideas and policies of the Republican candidates, inviting people to focus on absurdity rather than threat, and to react with laughter, not outrage. In this way, weird sidesteps our outrage fatigue.

We can anticipate there will be many twists and turns in the presidential campaign before Election Day, and only time will tell if weird ended up being an effective strategy in winning the election for Kamala Harris. But laughtivism activists like Popovic believe that fun will always do a better job at drawing people together than fear and cruelty.

Margaret Betz is an associate teaching professor of philosophy at Rutgers University in Camden. She is the author of the recent book, “Modes of Protest and Resistance: Strange Change in Morals Political.”