The extraordinary humbling of John Hickenlooper

President Trump’s unlikely rise has only encouraged runaway ambition in elected leaders, fueling a not-unreasonable belief that the volatility of today’s politics favors the bold — or, at least, that there is often little downside to giving a national campaign a try, and hanging on as long as possible.

Yet there is also a kind of Tolstoyan principle of presidential contests: All happy campaigns are alike; each flailing campaign flails in its own way. And Mr. Hickenlooper’s disappointment runs deeper than most of his peers’. It is easy to imagine him succeeding in a past cycle, as a popular, moderate two-term executive of a purple state, known for brokering deals on environmental issues and gun regulation. He has arrived instead at a moment of celebri-fied elections and simmering progressive opposition to Mr. Trump.

Nowhere is the disconnect more visceral for a long shot than in the rented reception halls in early-voting states across the country. Eyes migrate to the carpet patterns. Campaign stickers sit unstuck. Volunteer sign-up sheets remain wrenchingly white. It is the difference between polite applause and spontaneous affection, abiding a handshake and demanding a selfie. It is the difference between a former governor and a future president.