Narrator: Imagine being a 29-year-old, newly-elected United States Senator, the second-youngest in the nation's history. You're in Washington D.C., interviewing staff for your new office, living a dream you've chased your entire life. Then, the phone rings. It's your sister. There's been a "slight accident" back home involving your wife and three young children. But in that instant, in the pit of your stomach, you know. You know it's not slight. You know your world has just been shattered. This is the crucible that forged the man at the center of the memoir, Promises to Keep: On Life and Politics. Author Joseph Biden chronicles a life marked by unimaginable loss and improbable victories, revealing the core principles that guided him through personal tragedy and the highest corridors of power. It is a story not just of a political career, but of a man's relentless struggle to get back up after being knocked down.

Narrator: Before he ever held public office, Joe Biden's political and personal philosophies were shaped at his grandpop Finnegan's kitchen table in Scranton, Pennsylvania. It was there, amidst the lively Sunday debates, that he learned his first lesson about politics. His grandfather once contrasted two local figures: a polished civic leader from a founding family, and a rough-edged, favor-dispensing politician. While the civic leader was polite, Grandpop Finnegan explained he would promise you the world to your face and betray you behind your back. The other politician, however, would level with you, even if the news was bad. The lesson was clear: politics must be a matter of personal honor. A person’s word is their bond, and you treat everyone with the same direct respect, whether they're at the country club or on the street.

This principle of honor was paired with an even more fundamental lesson, one drilled into him by his father, Joseph Biden Sr. Having faced his own professional setbacks, his father's constant refrain in the face of any challenge, big or small, was simple and unyielding: "Get up!" He taught his son that the measure of a person isn't how many times they get knocked down, but how quickly they get up. This combination of integrity and resilience—of keeping one's word and refusing to be defeated by adversity—would become the foundational promise Biden tried to keep to himself and others throughout his life.

Narrator: In December 1972, just weeks after his stunning victory in the Delaware Senate race, Biden's life was irrevocably fractured. The car accident claimed the lives of his wife, Neilia, and their one-year-old daughter, Naomi, while leaving his young sons, Beau and Hunter, seriously injured. In an instant, the triumphant young senator-elect was a grieving single father, overwhelmed by a rage and despair so profound that he felt God had played a horrible trick on him. He had no intention of taking his seat in the Senate. His only focus was his sons.

It was in this moment of darkness that the institution he was ready to abandon reached out to him. Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield began calling him every single day at the hospital. He didn't pressure or preach; he simply listened and gently insisted, "Give me six months, Joe. Just give me six months." Mansfield understood that Biden needed a reason to re-engage with the world, a purpose beyond his grief. He argued that Neilia had worked too hard for him to get there, and he owed it to her to try. Reluctantly, Biden agreed. He was sworn into the U.S. Senate at his sons' hospital bedside, beginning a career defined by a daily commute back to Delaware, a promise to his sons that he would always be there to tuck them in at night.

Narrator: By 1987, Biden was a seasoned senator, but he was also a failed presidential candidate. His 1988 campaign had imploded under the weight of a plagiarism scandal, where he had used lines from a British politician's speech without attribution, and a separate incident where he exaggerated his academic record. Just as his political career seemed to be at its lowest, he was thrust into one of the most consequential political battles of the decade: the Supreme Court confirmation hearing for Judge Robert Bork.

As the new Chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, Biden faced immense pressure. He knew a personal attack on the highly qualified Bork would fail. Instead, he made a strategic decision to reset the terms of the debate. He argued that the Senate had a right and a duty to scrutinize a nominee's judicial philosophy, not just their resume. The fight would not be about Bork's character, but about his ideas. Biden focused the hearings on Bork's narrow interpretation of the Constitution, particularly his view that there was no general "right to privacy" protecting decisions like the use of contraception by married couples. By framing the debate around fundamental rights that ordinary Americans understood, Biden successfully made the case that Bork's philosophy was outside the constitutional mainstream. The Senate ultimately rejected the nomination, a victory that not only reshaped the Supreme Court but also rehabilitated Biden's own reputation as a substantive and capable leader.

Narrator: Biden's work on the Judiciary Committee led him to confront another abuse of power, one happening not in the courts, but in American homes. Shocked by statistics on domestic violence and the dismissive attitudes within the justice system, he spent years building a case for the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA). He held hearings where survivors shared harrowing stories of being blamed for their own assaults, highlighting a deep cultural problem. The bill was a landmark piece of legislation that funded shelters, trained law enforcement, and created new legal protections for victims.

This focus on protecting the vulnerable extended to the world stage. As the former Yugoslavia descended into chaos in the early 1990s, Biden became one of the first and most vocal advocates for American intervention to stop the genocide in Bosnia. He traveled to the region, visiting refugee camps and seeing the devastation firsthand. In a now-famous confrontation, he met with Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic and, looking him in the eye, told him, "I think you’re a damn war criminal and you should be tried as one." He relentlessly pushed the Bush and Clinton administrations for a "lift and strike" policy—lifting the arms embargo on the Bosnians and using NATO airpower to strike Serb artillery. His advocacy was a direct application of his core belief: that America had a moral obligation to stand against the abuse of power, whether at home or abroad.

Narrator: The attacks of September 11, 2001, thrust Biden, as Chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, into the center of the nation's response. While he fully supported the war in Afghanistan to pursue al-Qaeda, he grew deeply concerned by the Bush administration's swift pivot toward Iraq. He used his chairmanship to hold extensive hearings, bringing in experts who warned that an invasion would be costly, destabilizing, and lacked international support.

Despite these grave concerns, Biden cast one of the most consequential votes of his career: he voted to authorize the use of military force in Iraq. In the book, he explains this decision as a mistake, but one rooted in a specific calculation. He believed that giving President Bush the authority to use force would strengthen the hand of Secretary of State Colin Powell, empowering him to secure a tough UN resolution that could force Saddam Hussein to cooperate with weapons inspectors and avert a war. He misjudged the influence of the administration's neoconservatives, who were determined to go to war regardless. Biden expresses profound regret for this vote, criticizing the administration's catastrophic lack of planning for the post-invasion occupation and its failure to be honest with the American people about the true costs of the war.

Narrator: The central, unifying thread of Promises to Keep is the profound power of resilience. It is a testament to the idea, learned from his father, that life is not about avoiding the fall, but about how quickly you get back on your feet. From the depths of personal grief to the sting of political failure, Biden's journey is a study in perseverance, fueled by a commitment to the promises he made to his family, his constituents, and his country.

The book leaves us with a challenging question about the nature of public service. In a world of shifting politics and immense pressure, how does a leader maintain their moral compass? For Biden, the answer lies in empathy—in understanding the plight of the vulnerable, whether it's a battered woman in Delaware or a refugee in Bosnia, and in using the levers of power to offer them, as he puts it, "a platform upon which they could stand." It is a reminder that the most important promises are not those made on the campaign trail, but those kept to the people who have been knocked down and are fighting to get back up.