Opinion Advocates for ideas and draws conclusions based on the author/producer鈥檚 interpretation of facts and data.
Can We Make an Alien Nation Familiar Again?
We have a serious political polarization problem in the U.S. right now. It鈥檚 not so much the damage done during the Trump administration (although he certainly exacerbated those problems) as it is that our divisions have hardened into political partisanship, which now influences just about every aspect of life in America.
Divisions in society are natural and inevitable, especially one as large and diverse as the United States. The difference now is that all the identities people represent can be largely sorted by party affiliation, which itself is now a shorthand label that implies a specific set of characteristics and beliefs.
Whether we鈥檙e talking about differences between classes, races, or religions, these differences now align along partisan lines, too. Increasingly, demography is political destiny.
The divisions have become so extreme that what should have been unifying events鈥攁 global pandemic, and now the outbreak of war in Europe鈥攈ave instead contributed to partisan sorting. Republican governors and other officials have worked to , and we now have influential GOP figures, including former President Trump, actually after his unprovoked invasion of Ukraine.
That hasn鈥檛 always been the case. Nobody in media or politics used the terms 鈥渞ed state鈥 and 鈥渂lue state鈥 before the 2000 presidential election. That鈥檚 a recent development, an artifact of our winner-take-all Electoral College, that serves to explain and reinforce the (overly simplistic) belief that, especially in presidential elections, a state鈥檚 voters can be assumed to go one way or the other before a single poll has been taken or vote has been cast. ( were never standardized in the media before that election, despite historical association of the color red with communist and socialist movements. Perhaps because the recount of the 2000 election for such an extended period of time, the networks cohered around red versus blue as a form of shorthand, and the trend stuck.)
Before 2000, we had liberal-moderate Republicans from northern states and conservative-moderate Democrats from the South, the industrial Midwest was a bastion of working-class unionism, and the West was an unpredictable political frontier, as likely to spawn a Ronald Reagan as a Jerry 鈥溾 Brown.
Mark Alan Smith, associate chair of the Department of Political Science at the University of Washington, says the parties are a lot more monolithic now.
鈥淎 lot of conflict that used to be within parties, is now between parties,鈥 Smith says.
The results of that partisan sorting are distressing. A lot of those ideological fault lines are drawn according to the politics of grievance鈥攔acial, economic, religious, and cultural鈥攖hat Trump was able to exploit so thoroughly. As columnist Thomas Edsall wrote in The New York Times on Jan. 26, the key to reducing the amount of polarization in society is a redistribution of large amounts of resources and wealth. But Edsall also cited two studies that showed that 鈥渁ggressive redistribution policies designed to lessen inequality must be initiated before polarization becomes further entrenched.鈥
鈥淚n other words, a deeply polarized electorate is that would benefit their adversaries as well as themselves,鈥 Edsall wrote.
精东影业 Magazine鈥檚 founding editor, Sarah van Gelder, saw much of this dynamic playing out in 2014, when she took a cross-country road trip to research her book . As she told former Executive Editor Zenobia Jeffries Warfield recently, many communities in the Midwest and Appalachia had been abandoned by business and government, and she saw a portrait of America that the mainstream media would 鈥渄iscover鈥 a few years later as they attempted to explain the rise of an autocrat: 鈥淎nd within the places left out, there was a sense of hopelessness. This system we鈥檙e seeing on television and we鈥檙e being told is working, it isn鈥檛 working for us. We鈥檙e left out. And so there鈥檚 a deep alienation. A sense that there is just no future.鈥
In-group insularity is nothing new鈥攖he whole concept of 鈥渢ribalism鈥 dates to prehistory, when extended families of early humans banded together to share resources and fight off the other groups that were encroaching on their mammoth-hunting grounds.
But a few things happened along the way as humanity鈥檚 discourse shifted from caves to caf茅s.
One is the recent fragmentation of the media landscape, especially since the arrival of the internet. Despite its early promise of 鈥渃onnecting people鈥 around the world, the internet has become a tool of giant corporations like Facebook, whose algorithms sort people into like-minded groups, insulating them from others and reinforcing our existing beliefs. 鈥淓ngagement,鈥 that magic metric businesses use to find their audiences, easily lends itself to provocation, since nothing engages the mind鈥攁nd inner keyboard warrior鈥攁s much as the heat of righteous anger.
It鈥檚 not just the internet, but all media that has fragmented. There used to be just three major broadcast networks in America, and senior figures like Walter Cronkite had the respect of the nation. Those networks, as a result, sought to appeal to the wide political center.
Smith points to the rise of Rush Limbaugh in the late 1980s on talk radio鈥攊tself a formerly centrist institution鈥攁s an early example of the trend that led to the rise of the professional internet troll.
鈥淭here鈥檚 a lot of incentives built into social media that push us even further,鈥 Smith says. He points to conservative radio host Dan Bongino as a perfect example of someone who鈥檚 maximally utilized social media鈥檚 tendency to promote the most inflammatory commentary. 鈥淗e basically came out of nowhere, and he鈥檚 just really good at demonizing the other side.鈥
The other major change in society has been the loss of what Smith terms 鈥渕ediating institutions,鈥 places where people from different walks of life would meet face to face. Most importantly, these are places that humanized us, even when we had differences.
This loss was most succinctly described in Robert D. Putnam鈥檚 2000 book, . Churches, unions, bowling leagues, and the like tended to draw a broader swath of the population. Even if churches were highly segregated along racial lines, they were more diverse along class lines, Smith points out.
Most important was the face-to-face contact that took place within these institutions. Not only did that interaction help humanize people that we鈥檝e now come to see as enemies, but it also broadened our knowledge of what those other groups consider important.
There are groups currently working to facilitate this interaction. The nonprofit (formerly Better Angels) has been , nationally and in states across the country, with the express intent of providing a venue for open and respectful dialogue across the political divide.
That knowledge of other groups might also help elected officials respond more capably to their constituencies. (Although the gerrymandering of electoral districts has also contributed to an environment in which many politicians need only appeal to their base of voters, because they have very few opposition voters to respond to.)
Smith points out that between 2016 and 2020, Trump lost support from educated White voters, but his popularity among Latino voters actually grew鈥攁nd Latino communities鈥 support in recent polling is split about 50鈥50 between Democrats and Republicans.
鈥淲hich ought to strike fear into Democratic politicians,鈥 Smith says. But we haven鈥檛 seen any kind of adjustment to that new reality.
Instead, Democrats appear to continue to focus on cultural issues that play well with their base but may put off more moderate voters.
鈥淭he discourse on the political left is driven by phrases and ideas from academia that spread out to affiliated liberal organizations,鈥 Smith says. And there鈥檚 an emphasis on using the 鈥渞ight words鈥 and monitoring discourse.
鈥淭hat鈥檚 very alienating to working-class voters of all races,鈥 Smith says. He cites the growing use of the word 鈥淟补迟颈苍虫鈥 as an example of this, and points to that shows that more than 65% of Hispanic voters prefer the word 鈥淟补迟颈苍虫鈥 not be used to describe their communities, and only 10% of those who have heard the term prefer its use.
(鈥淗ispanic鈥 is the term with the most support within those populations, polling at 61% favorability, according to Pew, and 鈥淟atino鈥 polled at 29% favorability. 精东影业鈥檚 style is to use either 鈥淟补迟颈苍辞,鈥 鈥淟atina,鈥 or 鈥淟补迟颈苍虫,鈥 depending on the person鈥檚 preference.)
Elections are not won or lost on word choice, but diction can definitely have an effect in shaping the overarching narrative. Sen. Hillary Clinton鈥檚 鈥溾 comment during her 2016 presidential campaign was widely considered an unforced error that confirmed the view that she was out of touch with many working-class White voters.
Which isn鈥檛 to say liberal politicians need to bend over backward and abandon progressive principles to woo White voters who may be on the fence. It does suggest that playing to the base isn鈥檛 often a winning strategy鈥擠onald Trump experienced this in 2020鈥攁nd that 鈥渙utreach鈥 is as much about learning and understanding from other groups as it is trying to pitch your message to them.
COVID-19 has undoubtedly harmed our ability to meet and communicate with those outside our own social groups. And it also isn鈥檛 feasible for everyone to run out and join bowling leagues鈥, and the pandemic didn鈥檛 help.
But now that the pandemic is receding (we hope), we may need to think not just about meeting our old friends and community again, but also about whether we are unintentionally limiting our experiences鈥攁nd our understanding鈥攖o just those that confirm our worldviews. Making our society civil again may depend on being willing to listen and learn things that we don鈥檛 agree with.
Chris Winters
is a senior editor at 精东影业, where he specializes in covering democracy and the economy. Chris has been a journalist for more than 20 years, writing for newspapers and magazines in the Seattle area. He鈥檚 covered everything from city council meetings to natural disasters, local to national news, and won numerous awards for his work. He is based in Seattle, and speaks English and Hungarian.
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