This is an opinion column.

As with many women of her generation, my grandmother’s vice was daytime TV — game shows, soap operas and so-called “talk” shows.

The last of the sort seemed less about talking and more about yelling. Already in the late 1980s and early 90s, the shows were each trying to one-up each other’s shock value, crossing boundaries even late-night had been reluctant to test.

“Trashy,” she’d mutter while shaking her head. But she couldn’t stop watching.

Then, one day, one show’s guest uttered a word for Black people that I hadn’t heard on TV before.

“We don’t talk like that,” she said.

I didn’t say anything. I did pay attention to what she did next. Something she never ever did mid-show.

She changed the channel.

There were boundaries we weren’t to cross. There was such a place as too far, even for idle amusement on long boring days with little else to do.

No one on the GOP debate stage Wednesday night uttered such an epithet, but one thing was clear: We have lost our boundaries. We’ve crossed so deep into too-far that some folks will be stuck there forever.

Worse, others are being raised in this political environment. They think this is how grownups are supposed to act.

There are few examples better than Vivek Ramaswamy.

It’s still unclear to me what Ramaswamy did to get into a presidential debate. He likes to mention the books he’s written, and for some folks, I suppose that counts as enough experience to share a stage with three governors.

But let’s be clear. He wasn’t in Tuscaloosa Wednesday night because of legislation he’s passed or policies he has implemented.

He was there because he’s a jerk. And a certain portion of the American electorate has decided they like jerks and want more jerks to run things.

Ramaswamy will say whatever it takes to get attention, and there’s no dark side he won’t indulge, no fear too unfounded for him to stoke, if that’s what it takes.

In Tuscaloosa, he opened the night by fat-shaming Chris Christie, inviting him to “walk yourself off that stage, enjoy a nice meal, and get the hell out of this race.”

He insulted Nikki Haley’s intelligence, challenging her to name three provinces in eastern Ukraine and then rudely talking over her answer when she did.

He left Ron Desantis alone because he could.

His crescendo of vile smugness came late in the debate. Ramaswamy turned into a Gattling gun of paranoid grievances.

That January 6 was an inside job. (One led by the FBI, not the man we all saw do it on live TV.)

That the government lied about 9/11.

That the “Great” Replacement Theory is not a conspiracy theory.

That the 2020 election was stolen by Big Tech.

And people in that room — not everybody, but enough to matter — applauded him for it.

Unfortunately, if you must share the stage with jerk like him, there are only two tactics for dealing with it and neither of them work: You can hold your chin up in dignified silence and look like you’re afraid to defend yourself, as Haley did, or you can sink to his level, shake your finger and call him names, like Christie.

It might be true that Ramaswamy is, as Christie said, “the most obnoxious blowhard in America.” But no presidential candidate should have to tell us that baby is ugly. We should have the sense to see it for ourselves.

Ramaswamy thinks this is how you win the presidency. And it has gotten him a lot further than a lot of others.

There’s no mystery why. Donald Trump was not on the debate stage Wednesday night, but he didn’t have to be. Ramaswamy was there in his place — copying his style, his insults, his hyperbole, his indulgent paranoia.

I have no concern Ramaswamy will win. Not this election, at least. But unless he drops the n-word on stage, he’s probably going to be around for a while.

Others like him — like Trump — are certain to follow.

In America, presidents like Kennedy, Reaga, Bush and Obama set examples for how decent people behave.

But the inevitable down-stream effect of Donald Trump is that a lot of young people — especially young men — will take his behavior as a model to follow, not just on stage or in politics, but in schools, at work and in the home.

Vivek Ramaswamy is the first to remake himself in Trump’s image. Legions will follow.

The things my grandmother and I were watching decades ago on daytime TV have metastasized in American politics.

It’s trashy. And trash is what we will get from it.

Until we shake ourselves loose, rediscover our boundaries, remember who else in the room is watching.

And change the channel.