Tim Scott, the junior senator from South Carolina, is a gentleman. He worked hard, made his place in the world, bought his mother a house, and got into politics. He appears, unusually in these times even for a politico, to be a committed Christian. Not a whiff of personal scandal can be detected wafting from his considerable frame. The best anyone could do was point to the fact that he isn’t married, which, to our knowledge, is not a crime, misdemeanor, or sin against nature, the law, or God. And now he’s getting married, so phooey on that. 

Scott was recently running for president. He raised a lot of money—he is a good fundraiser—and spent a lot of money, to the net effect of squat. He never broke 4 percent in national polls. No American pulled off the street could tell you a single policy proposal that emanated from that shining pate; about half of them couldn’t tell you anything about Scott save, perhaps, the tedious demographic detail that he is black. His campaign was not a success.

Now, per rumor, he is being considered for the bottom of Donald Trump’s ticket. It makes a certain amount of sense; he is a very good fundraiser, and that tedious demographic detail plays on the fondly held GOP fantasy of making inroads among minorities. He early staked out the milquetoast-playing-hardline position of a federal ban on abortions after 15 weeks, and got an award from the Susan B. Anthony List for his efforts. His signature legislative accomplishment: “Opportunity Zones,” which turned poor neighborhoods into business tax havens—the sort of rent-seeking sop to the commons that keeps the Interests safely entrenched.

Scott is to the Chamber of Commerce wing of the GOP what Mike Pence was to the social conservatives. Putting the letters V and P next to his name will consolidate the party for the general election. And did we mention that he is a superb fundraiser?