Will moderate, white, Christian voters vote Democratic again?
A Personal (albeit incomplete) Take on the Most “Consequential” Election of my Lifetime
Here’s my take on the election. It’s just one of many, even from my own perspective. I — and many others — have a lot of thoughts on what happened this election season, an election that so many claimed would change the trajectory of our country, forever. Whether that happens remains to be seen, and frankly, none of us really know how this will all play out. And, to be very clear, I do think this election has consequences and changes are coming to fundamental aspects of American life that I do not support, and I am worried about the harm that I believe will come from such decisions.
Enjoy. And let me know what you think.
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A bit about me (in no particular order of significance, so don’t read into that).
I Lean Left
I am politically aware and involved. I vote Democrat. I’ve chosen that phrase intentionally, signaling that I could vote otherwise, but haven’t felt compelled to do so since I turned voting age in the early 2000s. I’ve worked on Democratic campaigns — back in 2012 for a Massachusetts congressman, and supporting my father’s last two runs for US Congress in my hometown in Michigan. A quick sentence on this: my dad is a good man, ran for the right reasons — to help others, serve his community, and lift people up — but he was defeated in two election cycles. Anyhow, there’s a world where I could bolster my credentials a bit more to seem more qualified — I did get a degree in Political Science from the College of the Holy Cross, but I’ve spent the majority (read: nearly all) of my professional life in the field of education — as a teacher, and now for over a decade in education improvement.
I am a white, Christian male, and a foster and adoptive father.
Now, that’s a lot, so let me unpack it a bit.
I was born in New Mexico on an Indian reservation while my father, a physician, was doing his residency. A few months after I was born, we moved to Michigan, where I grew up, played hockey, met friends, and began my life. I was raised Catholic, and I came into my conscious Christian stage after college when a group of friends started inviting me to their non-denominational church. Over the years, I grew in my faith, met my now-wife, and got baptized in 2020 at our home church in Connecticut, alongside our foster daughter at the time. We are raising our children in the faith, and (hopefully and ideally) this identity marker is what you would quickly come to know about me within moments of our introduction. As for being male, there’s not much to elaborate on here, other than the fact that I hold this identity marker as well. I’ve been part of the “boys’ club” and have participated in the oft-discussed “locker room” environment my entire life (mostly hockey locker rooms). Regarding being a foster and adoptive dad, my wife and I have been foster parents for six years, and while this piece isn’t about that story — which we write about frequently — it’s an important element to share about my identity.
I believe the Democrats lost the White House this past election, because they lost sight of two things:
- Americans simply don’t pay that close attention to politics. We are opinionated but we are not political. Obviously, this isn’t a fault of the Democrats, but the way they acted as if this weren’t true puts the blame on the candidates and campaigns.
- Democrats have left little room for people with varying views on a myriad of issues to feel comfortable within their party. Having different perspectives on issues led to ostracization and judgment. For someone like me, who could be classified as a “never-Trumper,” I started to feel like a quiet, not-so-proud Democrat supporter as the party moved further and further left over the past few years — or, again, as the party was portrayed to move. To be clear, Republicans helped ensure this to be true with their lies and propaganda. Many people that used to be solid and proud Democrats, became bashful and silent.
And, of course, it was all the other things, all at once: racism, sexism, the economy, anti-incumbency, etc. Despite all my training in improvement science, and the fact that I believe in the concept of root causes to problems, I also believe there isn’t just one root cause to a problem — there are often many. And claiming there’s only one or two is problematic. (Have you ever removed a plant and seen just one root?). Some roots are more important than others and play a larger role, but claiming that there’s only one root cause is problematic. There are many reasons the election turned out the way it did, and we shouldn’t dismiss any of them. But let me unpack the two I am choosing today.
American (In)Attention
Perhaps I’m more politically active than the average American. I read the NYT daily email, get POLITICO breaking news reports to my inbox, listen to NPR daily, attempt to keep up with my monthly Times subscription, enjoy a good political podcast, and engage in conversations at work and in my personal life about politics. I turn on CNN, FOX, and MSNBC whenever I think breaking news is coming, and occasionally flip to those channels when watching football or a show, just to make sure I’m aware of what’s “happening in the world.” To some, that might make me a political “junkie,” but all I’m trying to do is stay informed and knowledgeable.
I wouldn’t call myself an expert, or a panelist on any shows, or a writer for, say, an opinion piece. I become aware of things, and then forget. I can’t remember all the different players in a story, and I can’t explain the geopolitics of every situation. I can’t explain the history behind each policy decision, and my basic understanding of government doesn’t permit me to claim to know the best policy for healthcare, the economy, or war. Of course, I have opinions, and many of them are, I hope, informed, but I am no expert. Yet, the truth is, I’m probably not far from the typical American — we tune in, and we tune out. We become informed on an issue when we find it convenient or necessary, and then we move on. We become passionate about a cause, and then fade away. We support a politician, and then we move on. At least most of us do.
We’ve become so used to being “told and taught” by experts on TV, podcasts, and newspapers that the everyday American hasn’t been given much of a platform to speak and share. Someone with only tertiary knowledge isn’t often asked to share their take on these platforms. And I get it — they shouldn’t be asked to speak on something they’re not informed about. But Democrats acted as if all Americans were policy wonks and experts, whereas Republicans understood that most Americans aren’t all that interested in the nuances of policy and government. They kept it simple (albeit, in my opinion, at times bigoted, harmful, racist, sexist, and misogynistic). And it (unfortunately) sold.
When I worked for my dad’s campaign, we did a lot of get-out-the-vote calls to a targeted group of likely voters. In a week’s worth of calls, if we were lucky to get someone on the phone, there was a surprising number of people who said they hadn’t thought much about it. For a politically active person, that’s radical. But it’s a telling sentiment about the American people. We’re busy. We’re living our lives — working, raising kids, caring for and being with family, navigating our personal lives. We aren’t spending our energy discerning between political candidates, policies, judicial appointments, and geopolitical warfare. It’s just not where our focus is. Nor should it be. That’s why we have people in government to think about those things.
Democrats forgot this. They campaigned as if everyone knew the ins and outs — the pros and cons of each policy and position. No one has time for that, and most Americans vote by sound bites, instinct, and family persuasion. Politics is about feeling more than knowing — and it just didn’t feel exciting to support a Democratic candidate this time around.
To this point, I’d love if we did away with the term “educated, vs. “uneducated” voters— or at the very least never use the term without the qualifier of “college” educated. Everyone has their own form of education. I would frame this voting block as “uninterested” or “checked-out.”
Big Tent?
When I was in college, Democrats were known as the “big tent” party — a coalition of a variety of views and perspectives that shared a common goal. Somewhere between then and now, that idea seems to have vanished, and Republicans have taken on the image of being a “big tent” party with space for a variety of different views and characters. To someone like me, I see the Republican tent as a Trump/MAGA tent that I don’t want to be a part of, but many see it as a place where their ideals and beliefs are upheld, even when they may disagree on tactics. But that’s not my place to explain.
As for the Democratic tent, I’ve personally felt a shift. As mentioned, I’m a white Christian male, and many of the identity markers associated with me are largely associated with the “other side” — at least that’s the narrative we have been told. Yet, I’m firm in my camp, albeit feeling a bit ostracized and isolated. I’m not in a place to jump from my blue to red, but I am at a place where I’m feeling less welcome within the Democratic Party. Even small disagreements are blown up into monumental differences that place people outside of the “tent”. The “democratic blob” of progressive influencers is working overtime to push people out of its ranks, and in doing so, making democrats lose elections.
Without going into personal stances on every issue, let me generalize: while I stand with Democrats on the majority of policy issues (not all), I don’t have the same conviction or fervor for them. In general, moderates like myself have started to feel judged for not being extreme enough within the party. My moderate views are now being pushed as conservative values or extremes, when in reality, I see them as simply moderation — akin to, say, Obama’s positions when he was President. We don’t all view the world through the same prism, and life experiences. My lens is my own, as is yours, and it’s time we all started to tact back to civility when someone has a slightly different view than our own. I am not accepting extremism, but I am embracing nuance and complexity with grace.
That’s it — no grand conclusion, just a few perspectives I wanted to share. It’s incomplete and I’m sure there are experts out there that could analyze and breakdown the flaws in my argument. My guess is majority of Americans are not able to come to a perfectly clear interpretation of all that this election represented, and, like me, likely feel a bit scattered when it comes to making sense of it all.
In the end, I’m not someone the Democratic Party is at risk of losing to the MAGA movement; I still find Trump and his political acolytes deeply unappealing. However, I do understand the appeal they hold for many, and I believe we need to set judgment aside and acknowledge that, for a significant number of people, Trump and his movement has offered people a new political home and acceptance after being tossed out of the democratic tent. Winning elections will require the Democratic Party to find common ground with each other, with empathy for one another even if we don’t agree on every aspect. Democrats have to become more comfortable with people having opinions different than their own, otherwise, their “principled stances” will continue to elect Republicans.
