Has Trump Derangement Syndrome mutated? There certainly seems to be evidence of a new strain spreading even on the right, which we can label “Vance Derangement Syndrome.” The American Spectator recently published a passive-aggressive essay by Neal B. Freeman in which he suggests that if JD Vance were to become president, it “would be his first real job.”

Apparently, serving as a Marine, a U.S. senator, and as vice president of the United States is not sufficient experience, in Freeman’s view. Although he attributes the “first real job” statement to unnamed “critics,” he clearly believes it to be an accurate assessment.

Freeman comes across as an elitist snob with this feeble attempt to damn Vance with faint praise, and it deserves a response. Further, he skips over the most salient aspect of Vance’s life: that he overcame a dysfunctional family environment and poverty by enlisting in the United States Marine Corps right out of high school.

The Marine Corps not only shaped Vance’s broader view of the world, but it also opened the door for him to attend college with the help of the GI Bill. Freeman makes no mention of Vance’s Marine Corps service, or the fact that Vance graduated summa cum laude in political science from Ohio State University in just over two years—hardly a sign of academic mediocrity. Through sheer determination and hard work, Vance overcame his humble beginnings to graduate from college with highest honors in about half the time it takes the average person. The closest political parallel is George H.W. Bush, who graduated from Yale as a member of the high honors society Phi Beta Kappa in just over two years after serving as a bomber pilot in World War II.

Freeman conveniently ignores these facts to jump ahead to Vance’s enrollment at Yale Law School, where he notes that Vance “was not a star.” He had “neither academic distinction nor particularly bright prospects.” Never mind that Vance graduated from one of the best law schools in the nation despite formidable challenges in his youth, including being abandoned by his father and having a mother with addiction problems. The real focus, Freeman implies, should be on Vance’s law school report card! John McCain graduated fifth from the bottom of his class at the U.S. Naval Academy. Still, no one ever suggested he was unqualified, on that basis, to be president of the United States.

If one takes Freeman literally, longevity in law practice is a new standard for success in a “real job.” Vance falls short on this measure as well—he “spent a few years in the practice of law, forgettably.” Interestingly, neither Franklin Roosevelt nor Woodrow Wilson ever completed law school, but they both passed the bar exam. Neither of them lasted long as practicing attorneys. Wilson became bored with the law after just one year and decided to pursue a Ph.D. in political science at Johns Hopkins.

Freeman’s insistence that “the presidency would be [Vance’s] first real job” cheapens the notion of public service. When a critic so cavalierly dismisses wearing the uniform of the nation for four years as not being a “real job,” what does it say about that critic? Freeman also appears to think that a lawyer who is not a partner in a large law firm, putting in lots of billable hours, is not working in a “real job” either.

Freeman further ignores the fact that after law school, Vance worked for Senator John Cornyn and spent a year clerking for U.S. District Court Judge David Bunning. In Freeman’s mind, it’s probably not “real job” experience unless you clerk for a Supreme Court Justice (as Vance’s wife did).

Freeman’s essay is an unfair attempt to denigrate a man who has achieved more in his young life (as a practicing attorney, U.S. senator, vice president, and author of a bestselling book) than most folks do in their lifetimes.

Incidentally, Vance’s book, Hillbilly Elegy, sold over 400,000 copies in 2016, reaching the top of the New York Times bestseller list. As Freeman himself puts it, “Vance hit the number,” presumably he means the “lottery number,” with the publication of his book. To Freeman, writing a bestseller, among all of Vance’s other achievements, is not real work but just plain dumb luck.