I’m not talking here about the complex embodiment of modern masculinity or what it means to be the platonic ideal of a man. Today’s politics have no place for such high-minded analysis. No, this is about which conservative leaders ooze a stereotypical, gut-level manliness. Swagger. That hard-to-define-but-easy-to-recognize machismo that no amount of therapy, media training, or psycho-pharmaceuticals can impart.

This essence of manliness is central to the GOP’s mythology. The daddy party cherishes its self-image as the party of toughness, of self-reliance, of up-by-the-bootstraps fortitude. Sure, Cruz recently irked fellow Senate Republicans by dissing them as “squishes” on gun control. But let’s be honest: how many Republican pols have whipped up a crowd at CPAC or a Lincoln Day dinner or a nominating convention by mocking the effete, elite liberal girly men (and women) looking to transform America into a nation of mewling, helpless bed-wetters?

Despite the centrality of this image to the GOP, however, precious few of its high-profile players now are apt salesmen for the manly brand. Former senator Fred Thompson was perhaps the last to wear the mantle well—and was, on the basis of that alone, considered a serious presidential contender for about 15 minutes.