Campaign season is around the corner. It seems like it should bring a sense of hope, but sometimes it feels like little more than months of uninspiring stump speeches, a smattering of negative ads (usually just after each side has declared with pride that they’d never sink to such a nasty level), and debates where candidates ignore the questions they’re asked in favor of the answers they want to give.
We’re gearing up for an election—perhaps the most democratic of endeavors—in a context where over eighty percent of Americans believe democracy itself is at risk. Over 80 percent. That means that if you stick five people in a room together, at least four of them will say they’re worried about the stability of our country. While in some situations, having the same concern can bring people together, that’s not the case here. Probably because people on opposite ends of the political spectrum tend to characterize the risks differently. Many on the left highlight an unwillingness on the part of a subset of the Republican party to accept the results of the 2020 presidential election. While many on the right place the blame squarely on illiberalism associated with “wokeness” (in quotes here simply because it’s often poorly defined).
Taken together, these reveal a battle, not just about the finer points of democratic rule, but over what’s morally right and what’s true about the world. It’s a battle linked to a change in how we view one another that threatens the foundation of self-governance itself. After all, the very idea of self-governance rests on our ability and willingness to see the people doing the self-governing—both my side and the other side—as capable of clear, reasoned thought. Democracy relies on this premise so fully so that it cannot survive without it. And yet, a contemptuous view of one another is the glue that binds together the over 80 percent of Americans who feel our democracy is threatened.
Polling data largely support this diagnosis. From 2016 to 2022, the percent of Republicans who think Democrats are immoral went from 47 to 72. The corresponding increase for Democrats towards Republicans was from 35 to 63. What’s more, the percent of Republicans who view Democrats as dishonest went from 45 to 72 in the same period. For Democrats, it went from 42 to 64.
This means that the 80 percent who believe democracy is at risk are worried with good reason. Although, perhaps the real threat isn’t as much about election denial or “wokeness” as it is about the way we view people who disagree.
To be sure, there’s often widespread agreement with the idea that we should be charitable towards the other side as long as people aren’t asked to apply it too closely to themselves. This is why I often hear responses like, “I understand what you’re saying, but the [left/right] has actually lost its mind. How can I be open when they’re batsh*t crazy?” That is to say that our negative view of the other side runs deep. And while a robust culture of questioning and challenging the words and actions of the opposing side is part of healthy self-governance, that’s only the case if it doesn’t go hand in hand with dismissing them as immoral, dishonest, stupid, or insane.
So, where does this all leave us? It leaves us with a choice to make. We can continue to dig into our righteousness or we can try to understand what it is that we’re missing that makes it so easy to dismiss the other side. I’m not talking about simply being civil to one another nor am I making an airy declaration that we should just all get along. I’m talking about a willingness to challenge and question our thinking in way that’s just as relevant if we’re alone with our thoughts as it is if we’re having an argument with an ideological opponent.
The upshot is this. Despite what Marjorie Taylor Greene might think, if you’re of the belief that a national divorce is neither desirable nor a real option, our choice is clear.
Not to start defending MTG.... but I don't think we were ever intended to be "married" in the first place. My sense of the political theory behind the US was a Federal system, with a relatively weak federal govt. where almost all governance would be left to state and local govts (hence the 10th amendment). The founders recognized that -- even then -- we were a widely diverse society, and what would work in New England wouldn't work in the Deep South. IMHO, we've strayed a *long* way from that vision.
The questions I (living in IL) like to ask my liberal friends are:
Are you OK if Texas outlaws all abortions and legalizes all guns?
And for my conservative friends:
Are you OK if California legalizes all abortions and outlaws all guns?
Obviously, we can -- and should -- do more to understand and respect those we disagree with. But on issues like abortion and gun control (to name just 2 of many) -- there are truly deep divisions in our society, with no clear right answers, and no evidence that we're anywhere near a consensus we can all live with. And the drive -- by both sides -- for a one-size-fits-all "solution" from Washington can't help but inflame passions. We can talk all we want, we can all sit around and sing Kumbaya, but eventually a law will be passed and *everyone* will have to live with it.
Do we have to be married, can we just be roommates?