His calm is almost unnatural. I’ve been following Barack Obama closely now for two years and I’ve never seen him or even heard of him losing his temper. The worst I’ve seen was a little irritation at a fund-raiser a year and a half ago where some volunteers backstage were making so much noise that he couldn’t think straight. There was a little edge in his voice as he asked them to quieten down.

During some of the tensest moments in the primary campaign, he would sometimes go into a hotel room alone for a few minutes, compose himself and then come back out. Hillary Clinton cried in public. Bill Clinton got red in the face and made some borderline racist remarks. John McCain picked Sarah Palin, called Obama Britney Spears, suspended his campaign in the middle of a financial panic, unveiled a completely loopy mortgage bailout scheme on live television last week and explodes on cue like a microwaved bag of popcorn.

Obama? He lollops along with a calm smile and a physical fluency that is hard to mock or copy. If he were a boxer, he’d be the kind who keeps moving but hangs back. He waits for his opponents to take a swing, ducks and comes back into the game. He sticks to a game plan and rarely deviates. And he waits for his opponent to make an error. Watching his autumn fight with McCain reminds me of the Wile E Coyote and Road Runner cartoons. Every elaborate attempt to blow Obama up leaves his opponents with sooty faces and a trail of smoke rising from the tops of their heads.

Remember the Clintons? They assumed this young liberal black man from Chicago was unelectable. They assembled their massive armoury, cashed in their chits and awaited the victory parade. Obama quietly but ruthlessly followed a stealth caucus and primary campaign that brilliantly leveraged Hillary’s inevitability against her. He made the first potential woman president look like the past. By the beginning of March, she was toast, although it took her a few more months to come to terms with it.

McCain never seemed to learn from the Clintons’ misjudgment of their rival. A key element of Obama’s strategy is classic rope-a-dope. He gets his opponents to splutter with irritation as “that one”, as McCain contemptuously described Obama in last Tuesday’s debate, glides towards them in the polls. He does his thing, raises masses of money, keeps his staff in perfect order and focuses on issues and themes. He can segue from the inspirational agent of change of the spring to the reassuring conventional pol of the autumn without anyone really noticing the seams. That takes political skill. You’ve either got it or you haven’t.

Obama rarely directly attacks. He subtly baits. His most brilliant rope-a-dope of the entire campaign was against Bill Clinton in the spring. In a newspaper interview, Obama cited Ronald Reagan as the last transformational president. He didn’t mention Clinton. The former president was offended by being implicitly dissed, took the bait and unleashed a series of unwise public scoffs at the young Democrat, culminating in a dismissal of Obama as another Jesse Jackson. Suddenly, black Democrats abandoned Clinton’s wife, and the Clintons’ base collapsed. Obama merely stepped out of the way as the Clintons self-destructed. He didn’t just end their campaign; he helped to bury their reputation.

And that’s exactly how Obama has handled McCain. Instead of attacking him frontally, he got in his head and provoked him into error. It’s easier with McCain than with the Clintons, because McCain is more volatile and more easily provoked. And so Obama cruised through August, picking a conventional running mate and punching his foreign-policy-credentials card with trips to Iraq and Europe. McCain’s response? He put out an ad equating the son of a poor single mother who made it to become president of the Harvard Law Review, a University of Chicago professor and the first black nominee for president with . . . Paris Hilton, whose only accomplishments are being born into immense wealth and making an internet porn tape.

When that didn’t work, and an unfazed Obama ran a flawless convention, calmed the Clintons and delivered one of the best acceptance speeches in modern times, McCain blew himself up with the Palin pick. His one sure-fire advantage – experience – was thrown away. His real base – independent voters and the media – was first wowed and then woke up. And as Palin became a national and international joke, as her ratings plummeted and as she lost her debate to Joe Biden (quite hard to do, given Biden’s capacity for verbal diarrhoea), McCain got even crankier and more unstable.

Then the financial crisis hit and a desperate McCain decided to seize the moment. Again, Obama did little but stay calm.

McCain made a huge splash of “suspending” his campaign and rushed back to Washing-ton to talk his own party into backing the bailout. It refused, the bailout sank for a week and McCain’s campaign was just as suddenly unsuspended. He had to crawl back and agree to have the first debate as planned. Wile E Coyote blew himself up again. Meanwhile, Obama purred “beep, beep” and raced down the home stretch.

So last week McCain tried one more thing. He went 100% negative on his television ads, and day after day accused Obama of being someone who had a “secret”, who, in Palin’s words to overwhelmingly white crowds, “doesn’t see the world the way you and I do”, who “palled around with terrorists” and whose middle name – repeated at almost every Palin rally – was Hussein. Yes, they’re now playing the fear card: fear of the unknown, fear of black people, fear of Arab-sounding names, fear of terrorism, fear of Islam.

Obama has not been a saint. He resurrected the long-buried Keating Five scandal that tainted McCain in the 1980s. He has used language that resonates with the notion that McCain is senile: “erratic”, “uncertain”. He has played a little class warfare. But nothing too dramatic, nothing too angry, nothing too risky. The polling around the country is now more emphatically Democratic than ever before. Obama is now ahead in every battleground state and, by most estimates, could lose all the currently close states and still win the election.

And still he’s calm. Not too cocky. A little aloof, but very professional. He learnt all of this as a black man in a white country: no sudden moves; no anger. That’s how he managed his white mother in adolescence. That’s how he manages a white electorate increasingly at ease with him. And, by a massive stroke of luck, that’s what voters want now. In an economy that is melting down, with two wars still raging, they want calm above everything else. They want to know that the man in charge will not panic, will not be flustered, will not blow up.

They need a Valium. They can now vote for one for president.

Times Recommends

• Resist urge to throw voters red meat
• Slay sacred cows and be candid
• We cannot let these 100 deaths deflect us