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Political polarization is out of control. It doesn't have to be this way.

What I'm going to share here may well be futile, and many people who need to hear this message and take it to heart probably won't. But America is at a precipice we've been hurtling toward for years, and if we don't do something now to slow the momentum, I fear we'll soon find ourselves plummeting over a proverbial cliff, one and all. It's worth an attempt to pull us back from the brink.

We all know that political polarization in the U.S. is reaching a fever pitch. What many people don't seem to recognize is how they individually play a role in it, especially those who are adamant that the "other side" is to blame for the division. As a lifelong political independent, it's been terrifying to watch my fellow Americans become more and more entrenched in hyper-partisanship, seemingly unaware of how they themselves are contributing to the problem, simply by allowing themselves to be pulled further into the partisan binary.

left, right, politics, partisanship, political ideology We can't divide America into "left" and "right." Photo credit: Canva

Democrats say Republicans are the problem. Republicans say Democrats are the problem. The vast majority of us absentmindedly use black-and-white ideological terminology that line up with our political parties to describe our fellow Americans—liberal or conservative, left or right, red or blue—as if 342 million people fit neatly into two political/ideological boxes. As a result, many Americans have found a home and an identity in those boxes, and unfortunately, some have built them into fortresses from which to shoot at the other side—figuratively and literally.

But no matter how people feel about one box or the other, neither of them is really the problem that brought us here. The problem is the premise that they are built on, which is that there are two opposing sides in the first place. It was inevitable that partisanship in a two-party system would eventually lead to an intractable division featuring extreme, binary thinking pushed by those who benefit from that polarization. The "other side" isn't just different, it's depraved. The “other side" isn't just misguided, it's malicious. The "other side" isn't just wrong, it's evil. This kind of thinking is a feature, not a bug.

george washington, party politics, two-party system, farewell address, partisanship George Washington tried to warn us about the perils of partisanship. Giphy

George Washington tried to warn us about this in 1796 when he said that the "spirit of party" was America's "worst enemy" and would eventually lead us to our demise. We're right there, right now. Partisanship has been fully weaponized by those seeking and wielding power, pitting Americans against Americans, convincing them that the "other side" isn't just wrong, but evil. ("But the other side really is evil!" you might be thinking. Thank you for proving the point. The "other side" says exactly the same thing.) The walls of those political and ideological boxes have gotten so high and so thick that we've lost the ability to see one another's humanity.

Many things have gone into how we got here, of course, and there's plenty of blame to be tossed around. But instead of finger pointing when we talk about our polarization problem, what if we were to look inward and own our own individual part in it, whatever that might be?

I would love to invite every American of every persuasion to take a pause, zoom out, and honestly engage with these self-reflection questions:

Do I tend to label people as liberal/left or conservative/right based on what I know about their beliefs?

Do I assume a certain political party affiliation based on what someone looks like/how they dress/where they live?

Do I describe states and cities as "blue" or "red" and make judgments about those places based on those labels?

Do I use generalized terms like "the left" or "the right" to describe large swaths of the American population?

Does the media I watch or listen to speak in those binary terms? Is one used positively and one used negatively?

politics, political divide, polarization, division, party politics Partisanship is divisive in its very nature.Photo credit: Canva

Do I check multiple sources to find what's true before I react or form an opinion about something I see on social media?

Do I seek out a variety of commentary to genuinely try to understand different perspectives?

Do I contact my legislators when I want to see a change in policy, or do I just argue with people on social media about it?

Do I recognize when people are debating in an effort to seek truth and when they're using rhetorical tricks to "win" an argument?

Am I spending more time engaging with people online than I am in real life?

Do I pay more attention to the extreme voices on the political spectrum than to the moderate ones?

Am I aware of how social media algorithms affect what I see and am exposed to?

Do I see how the extreme element of the "side" I most align with is being used to paint my political persuasion in a negative light?

Do I see how the same thing is being done with the extreme element on the other "side"?

Do I acknowledge when someone from my "side" shares misinformation? Do I call it out?

misinformation, b.s., fake news, falsehood, calling out There''s b.s. all over the political spectrum. Giphy

Do I think of a large portion of my fellow Americans as enemies or adversaries? Why do I view them that way?

Do I want to see my fellow Americans as enemies or adversaries? How can I see them differently?

Am I suggesting we stop using labels like left/right, liberal/conservative, etc. altogether? As much as possible, yes. These labels barely help us understand one another anymore—most often they are used to stereotype people or to take one person's objectionable action and ascribe it to the entire "side." So much of our current situation is a result of the extreme generalization of Americans into two groups, when in reality, very few people actually think, believe, live, and act within the confines of however those group labels are defined. Most of us know this intellectually, of course, but it's so easy to be pulled by language to one extreme or the other in a polarized political climate, especially via social media.

That polarization is purposeful, by the way. Giving people a political identity and an "other side" to fight against is one of the easiest ways to gain political power. Unfortunately, it's also playing with fire. (And if you think only one party does it, think again. It's just much easier to spot when it's done by people we disagree with.)

We can't solve our problems using the same means by which they were created. We can't change the politics that weaponizes partisanship if we ourselves are furthering and fueling it with partisanized thinking and rhetoric. We can't respond to political and ideological extremism with more extremism, even if we think our extremism is justified. Literally every extremist thinks their extremism is justified. Black-and-white, us vs. them thinking is extremism. It's becoming so common, we're getting numb to it.

None of us is immune here—this stuff is designed to tap our most primal instincts—but we have to fight it in ourselves. When we feel a push or pull toward binary extremes (which is easily mistaken for believing we're on the righteous side of things) we can consciously pull ourselves back to a place where we see one another's humanity before everything else.

I'm not both-sidesing here or implying that there aren't any legitimate issues with any particular party/side/ideology. What I'm saying is that partisanized discourse has become a zero sum game and too many Americans are willingly being used as pawns in it. While we can't control what other people do, we can reflect on the part we as individuals play and dedicate ourselves to being part of the solution instead of contributing to the problem.

Of course, stepping away from political labels and partisanzied discourse won't instantly solve all of our issues as a nation. But if enough Americans refuse to play the partisan game and reject the binary rhetoric of left/right, liberal/conservative, red/blue, Democrat/Republican, perhaps we can help prevent the U.S. from plunging into the dark, dangerous chasm we've found ourselves at the brink of.

It's worth a shot, at least.

In the hours before he was sworn in as the 46th president of the United States, then-President-elect Biden was sent a letter signed by 17 freshmen GOP members of the House of Representatives.

In sharp contrast to the 121 Republican House members who voted against the certification of Biden's electoral votes—a constitutional procedure merely check-marking the state certifications that had already taken place—this letter expresses a desire to "rise above the partisan fray" and work together with Biden as he takes over the presidency.

The letter reads:

Dear President-elect Biden,

Congratulations on the beginning of your administration and presidency. As members of this freshman class, we trust that the next four years will present your administration and the 117thCongress with numerous challenges and successes, and we are hopeful that – despite our ideological differences – we may work together on behalf of the American people we are each so fortunate to serve.

After two impeachments, lengthy inter-branch investigations, and, most recently, the horrific attack on our nation's capital, it is clear that the partisan divide between Democrats and Republicans does not serve a single American.


The constituencies we represent showcase the variety of thought across our great nation. From Texas to California and from Oklahoma to New York, Americans are tired of the partisan gridlock and simply want to see leaders from both sides of the aisle work on issues important to American families, workers, and businesses.

We hope to work with you to extend targeted, meaningful coronavirus relief for families and businesses, protect Americans with pre-existing conditions, strengthen and modernize our infrastructure, enforce our antitrust laws against emboldened technology monopolies, and restore our economy struggling in the aftermath of the coronavirus pandemic.

We firmly believe that what unites us as Americans is far greater than anything that may ever divide us. In that spirit, we hope that we can rise above the partisan fray to negotiate meaningful change for Americans across the nation and maintain the United States' standing as the best country in the world.

Sincerely,

Beth Van Duyne, Stephanie Bice, Madison Cawthorn, Scott Franklin, Andrew Garbarino, Carlos A. Gimenez, Yvette Herrell, Ashley Hinson, Young Kim, Nicole Malliotakis, Mariannette Miller-Meeks, Barry Moore, Jay Obernolte, Burgess Owens, Jerry L. Carl, Peter Meijer, David G. Valadao

It may be worth pointing out that 17 out of 211 is a pretty small number, and some of the names on this list overlap with those who voted to reject Biden's certification. It's also worth pointing out that referencing the two impeachments and inter-branch investigations in the same breath as the attack on the Capitol (which they mistyped as "capital") feels a bit off, especially when pointing to them as seemingly equal examples of "the partisan divide."

But hey, any formal acknowledgment that partisan gridlock sucks and serves no one is a step in the right direction. We have to start somewhere if there's to be any hope of getting anywhere.

George Washington tried to warn us of "the baneful effects of the spirit of party generally" and explained what would happen if we didn't heed that warning. (Spoiler: It's exactly what is happening in our politics right now.) Imagine how much more we could get done in our government if it weren't for lawmakers playing toxic partisanship like a team sport. Partisan politics itself is inherently divisive, and it would be fabulous if we could come up with a better system, but here we are. If we have to work within a two-party system, we need the people in it to approach bipartisanship in good faith.

Whether this letter was issued in good faith by all who signed it remains to be seen, but at least it's a start. With some Americans being unwilling to accept the legitimacy of Biden's presidency, we need leaders across government to step up and speak up, put an end to the lies and the partisan rhetoric that pushes people to extremes, and work across the aisle to solve the problems we all face.

In October, the Washington Post shared an updated count of the lies or misleading claims President Trump has made since he was elected. The count, as of August 27, was 22,247 claims in 1,316 days. Why did the count only go through August? Because the president's pace had accelerated to more than 50 lies or misleading claims per day, and the fact-checking team couldn't keep up.

And it's not just the Washington Post. Fact checkers across the media landscape have repeatedly lamented that it's impossible to keep up.

All politicians stretch the truth sometimes, some more often or egregiously than others. But the frequency, nature, and shamelessness of President Trump's lying is in an entirely separate category than most politicians. This is not an opinion or even a judgment; it's an axiomatic fact.

The problem is, a shocking number of people overlook his lies, believe his lies, or in some cases, even love his lies. Opportunistic politicians and idealogues have seen him rise to power through lies, have seen the adulation he receives from his base for his lies, and have decided it's worth it to hitch their wagon to his lies. That's largely how we've ended up here, in a broken government and political culture where the president's supporters rally behind the lie that he won the election with a not-insignificant number of them willing to die or kill to defend that lie.


Yale historian Timothy Snyder calls the claim that Trump won the election a "Big Lie." Snyder, who specializes in the history of Central Europe and the Holocaust and has written books on tyranny, explained what that means in a Twitter thread.


Snyder wrote:

"The claim that Trump won the election is a Big Lie.

A Big Lie changes reality. To believe it, people must disbelieve their senses, distrust their fellow citizens, and live in a world of faith.

A Big Lie demands conspiracy thinking, since all who doubt it are seen as traitors.

A Big Lie undoes a society, since it divides citizens into believers and unbelievers.

A Big Lie destroys democracy, since people who are convinced that nothing is true but the utterances of their leader ignore voting and its results.

A Big Lie must bring violence, as it has.

A Big Lie can never be told just by one person. Trump is the originator of this Big Lie, but it could never have flourished without his allies on Capitol Hill.

Political futures now depend on this Big Lie. Senators Hawley and Cruz are running for president on the basis of this Big Lie.

There is a cure for the Big Lie. Our elected representatives should tell the truth, without dissimulation, about the results of the 2020 election.

Politicians who do not tell the simple truth perpetuate the Big Lie, further an alternative reality, support conspiracy theories, weaken democracy, and foment violence far worse than that of January 6, 2021."

Everyone who lives in objective reality understands that Trump did not win this election. There was no widespread fraud, and not enough small instances of fraud (which have occurred on both sides in every single election throughout history) to even come close to changing the outcome of the election. The election officials charged with carrying out the elections in every state, both Republican and Democrat, have said so. International election observers that Trump invited to witness our elections have said so. The federal agency charged with election security under Trump's own administration has said so.

Investigations into allegations have borne no fruit, and nearly all of the affidavits and "testimonies" (notably, not given under oath) we've seen have been from people describing normal voting and tallying processes that they don't fully understand. Voting machine companies have now launched billion-dollar defamation lawsuits against Trump allies who pushed conspiracy theory-laded lies about voting machines. The courts have been decisive in their rulings against the president and his allies, who are now 1 and 64 in lawsuits attempting to prove both fraud and unconstitutionality in some states' election processes.

The facts are not in question; it's only what people believe or want to believe that is in question.

Psychologists have explained that the president will never concede because his narcissistic nature and pathology will not allow it. He will double down on the Big Lie for the rest of his life. That's a problem—but it's not the only one.

A Big Lie can't succeed without support. Those in power who have gone along with this lie have breathed life into it, which also fuels the anger and resolve of those who believe the lie. Every person who has supported and disseminated this lie since election day bears responsibility for the attack on our U.S. Capitol and for how close we came to witnessing a massacre of our lawmakers last week. Every single one.

The bombardment of thousands of lies over the past four years have wounded and weakened our body politic. But the Big Lie slashed an artery and our democracy is bleeding out. Every single enabler of this lie needs to stand up and say "It wasn't true. We were wrong," as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. Not just the politicians, but the media personalities who know the truth but supported the "Stop the Steal" message anyway. The only immediate remedy is to decisively end the lie, to clamp down on it hard and fast. Damage has been done and will need to be assessed, but right now the goal is survival.

That requires putting the truth and the country before any and all political or popular ambition, which some have proven time and again they will not do. But if there's ever been a time to swallow your pride and do the right thing, it's right now.

A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about how I was done trying to understand Trump supporters after having spent four years at it. While I try to only write things I am proud of, I occasionally write something that doesn't sit well with me after it's published. This is one of those times.

I have messages in my inbox from people thanking me for that piece, saying it helped them understand their loved ones better, so I know some people found some parts of it helpful. But ultimately, I would take it back if I could. Please bear with me while I try to explain why.

My goal as a writer is to put stories and ideas out into the world that will, in some small way, help humanity progress toward a better future. Sometimes that means writing something positive that lifts people's spirits and gives them hope. Sometimes it means writing about injustices and hardships that need to be brought into the light and better understood. Sometimes it means challenging the status quo and helping people see things in a different way.

It also means avoiding things that I think are ultimately counterproductive to progress. While I don't shy away from tackling issues, I avoid writing about partisan politics because I see our two-party system as inherently divisive. I try to avoid writing about specific politicians as well, unless they've done something praiseworthy. There are more than enough political pundits putting out hot takes these days, and I have no desire to add my voice to that fray.

These past four years, however, have tested my convictions on these fronts, both internally and externally.


Issues that should not be considered partisan or divisive have become so in the eyes of many, making it nearly impossible to have a conversation that doesn't devolve into labels and generalizations and assumptions. When I write about racism or climate change or human rights—even basic public health at this point—I'm automatically placed into a political box, despite having never aligned myself with any political party. Even if I write about objective reality and verifiable fact, I'm placed into a political box, despite that making no sense whatsoever.

Labeling and categorizing is a natural tendency that's easy to slip into, especially in our current climate. But all it does is create an "us vs. them" filter on everything we discuss. I think that's the point of most political rhetoric, actually. "Us vs. them" is the simplest way to gain political power. Demonizing and "othering" make it easy to maintain.

The sneaky thing is that once that tendency takes hold, it starts to feel not just right, but righteous to "other" the people we see as on the wrong side of history or democracy or justice. It can even feel necessary and truthful to put them in the "other" category. Then it starts to feel okay to state the truth about them more and more harshly. Then we throw some potshots in, because those people deserve it. It so easily escalates from "they're wrong" to "they're insane" to "they're evil."

That's literally how everyone justifies division, on every "side," in every political system. But where does that lead us in the long run?

Whenever divisions seem intractable, I like to zoom out and look at the big picture. It's not like we haven't seen what we're seeing now in various times and places throughout history, from toxic partisanship to populist demagoguery. So the real root of the problem isn't the individual people or politics we keep arguing and complaining about, but something more fundamental.

In my opinion, the root cause of nearly all of our issues is people's inability or unwillingness to recognize that we are all "us." The lack of recognition of our essential oneness as human beings is manifested in all kinds of "othering"—racism, sexism, xenophobia, religious prejudice, political party prejudices, and so on and so on. But no matter the form, the root of most human problems is the "othering" of a group of people. My group = good. Other group = bad. So simple, but so wrong, every time.

I talked in my Trump supporters post about people wanting problems and solutions to be simple, but I should have been clearer that none of us is immune to that pull. We are all tempted to jump down the "us vs. them" hole because problems are simpler down there. It's easier to think in dichotomous groups and "sides" than to wade through complex ideas and nuanced beliefs on an individual level. Everything in our political discourse is designed to draw us into that hole.

And I allowed myself to fall in when I wrote that piece. I made Trump supporters a "them," and by doing so, perpetuated the very thing I see as the root of the problem. I fed the beast I was fighting while trying to fight it.

In the big picture, the beast isn't one individual with power or one political party or the people who support both of those things, no matter how it may appear in this era. The beast is the human tendency towards prejudice—a tendency that we have to overcome in ourselves and convince others to overcome in themselves.

How to get people to understand this is the challenge. But I know that categorizing a group of people in a way that they feel belittles or insults them isn't going to get us where we need to go, no matter how justified it feels. It's just not.

Cynicism about the redeemability of our fellow Americans won't get us where we want to go, and writing off millions of human beings will just have us living in perpetual limbo. Lasting solutions to our problems aren't going to be found in political boxes, and they aren't going to be found down an "us vs. them" hole, either.

We all have to decide how we are going to use our voice and how we're going to contribute to humanity's progress. I'd rather focus on the universal truths at the heart of the issues we face and work toward solutions in that way, rather than analysis of the political labels and ideological "sides" that only serve to divide us further.