Can we lower toxic polarization while still opposing Trump?
I work full-time on reducing toxic political polarization, an effort that is often misunderstood. Many assume the goal is to make Americans “calm down” or “meet in the middle” — to ignore their political passions. That’s why some Democrats and Republicans see such work as “helping the bad guys.”
I have received messages about Trump’s recent bull-in-a-china-shop activity saying things like, “I want to reduce political toxicity, too, but we’re on the road to autocracy. The bridge-building can wait.” This reflects a common misunderstanding: that depolarization is at odds with activism. But one can do both — and I’d argue aiming to do both actually makes one’s activism more persuasive and less likely to create pushback.
Some people also see this work as overly idealistic and “kumbaya.” I get why. People trying to reduce polarization often emphasize that we do have much more in common than we think. While that is true, it can also make people think we’re naïve.
But conflict resolution principles can exist alongside passion, frustration — even immense fear and anger. If such ideas were not of value during the course of a conflict, they’d be worthless.
Working on this problem is about helping Americans see that we are caught in a self-reinforcing cycle of contempt and provocation, what political scientist Lee Drutman calls the “doom loop.” When people see that, they will also see they can pursue their goals while trying to avoid contributing to the toxicity that’s tearing us apart.
Others sometimes assume that I’m pro-Trump, or maybe that I lack strong feelings about him. No — I am highly critical of Trump because I believe he amplifies us-versus-them hostility. Even some gung-ho Trump supporters I’ve talked to see his personality as being like “gasoline on the fire” of our divides. I agree with that, and I think it’s a very bad thing, no matter his political beliefs.
But I also see many sources of division around us. I often write about the ways liberals have contributed to toxicity. Our divides are self-reinforcing: contempt leads to contempt; righteous certainty provokes more of the same. Both sides focus on the worst of the other, fueling the belief that “they started it” and therefore it’s not our responsibility to lower the temperature.
I think a lot of anti-Trump approaches have backfired. When liberals unfairly demean Trump supporters, or interpret Trump’s statements in the worst possible light, they deepen conservatives’ feeling of being under siege and push them further into warlike thinking.
This works both ways. Aggressive, insulting rhetoric by Republicans can make liberals feel more defensive. For example, saying that Democratic stances on immigration stem only from a desire to win votes is insulting, and will strike many as a malicious smear. Such insults create pushback — and can even shift people’s stances in the opposite direction.
This is the core problem of polarization. We escalate, thinking we’re fighting back effectively, but we’re actually reinforcing the cycle.
That’s why we must distinguish between people’s beliefs and their approach to conflict. My main objection to Trump isn’t his beliefs, but how he engages. Imagine a version of Trump who held the same beliefs but who avoided contempt and tried to de-escalate tensions. That version of Trump would not have, for example, insisted that he won the 2020 election.
When we separate what someone believes from how they engage, we can criticize them in more nuanced and persuasive ways, allowing people to say, “I agree with your views but I disagree with your approach.” This clarity helps us focus on what matters and makes it easier to reduce support for us-versus-them approaches.
One simple thing we can all do is avoid righteous, hateful judgments about the entire “other side.” Since Trump’s election, many anti-Trump voices have said insulting, alienating things about half of the country. People opposed to Trump must recognize how unhelpful that is — just more of the same dynamics that helped elect Trump in the first (and second) place.
A lot of voting in America is more about what we’re afraid of than what we like about our own group. And there are many defensible reasons for disliking Democrats’ approaches. Anti-Trumpers should seek to understand the grievances and concerns that led to his victories — and keep those in mind as they pursue their goals.
Dismissing Trump voters as immoral and irredeemable isn’t right, and will only push them further away. I would say the same to Republicans: ignoring or mocking all Democratic concerns will likely result in driving people away — and may cost you elections.
Those opposed to Trump should learn from the many experts who write about how working against opponents in more persuasive and less polarizing ways: people like Daniel Stid, Rachel Kleinfeld, Yascha Mounk and Erica Etelson, to name a few.
We should also be cautious about “catastrophizing.” When we speak as if the sky has already fallen, we help create an arms-race mentality. I’ve heard some people act as if it’s a certainty that Republicans will refuse to ever relinquish power in future elections. Framing that as inevitable makes it easy for Republicans to believe such concerns are only an excuse for aggressive countermeasures (as was the case for some perceptions of attempts to remove Trump from the ballot). We should keep in mind that, in conflict, it can be hard to distinguish between defense and offense.
All of us will fight for the things that we feel moved to fight for. But we can perhaps try to think of doing it in a way that doesn’t fan the flames of division, that seeks to persuade at least some of our opponents. Even as some Americans see Trump as a uniquely dangerous leader, we should also keep in mind the deeper roots of how we got here — the decades-long build-up of contempt and polarized thinking — and work against that as well.
Zach Elwood is the author of “How Contempt Destroys Democracy,” a book aimed at helping liberal Americans understand our toxic divides and learn better ways to approach disagreement. He hosts the psychology podcast People Who Read People.
