Pt III: Politics of Conscience

I knew after my first two posts on this era in American politics that there was more to say.  

Right after the 2024 presidential election, I joined others in acknowledging the message sent by the electorate: people are frustrated and need a path to the life they want – the long-promised American Dream. The status quo has become a millstone, and voters are willing to blow it all up to get some kind of change. I witnessed this to my shock in the voting behaviors of people I helped at the polls. The urgent need for renewal outstrips our limited and sometimes flaccid institutions. In this sense what we are seeing is a comprehensible political reaction.

And yet, there’s something else quite obviously at work. I noted it in the landscape in the weeks leading up to Election Day. On one hand there weren’t a whole lot of campaign signs around Dallas for either candidate in this past election season. But prominent Trump-Vance signs did start to jump into my field of vision, my chest seizing a little in panic, as I drove through the wealthiest enclaves of my city.

Something was going on. The base for this political movement lies at class extremes – in the wealthiest and working classes. Though it makes me want to pull my hair out in disbelief at how hardworking people can go along with this populist charade, it is axiomatic in American history: those in power use race and class to divide the lower classes to prevent the formation of coalitions and preserve their own dominance.

This time, amp it up to eleven.

In 1831 Frenchman Alexis DeTocqueville came to America to give an account of the first great modern republic. He famously compiled his observations in Democracy in America, admiring the new breadth of freedom that egalitarian conditions afforded citizens. But he also foresaw democracy’s weaknesses. Its fragile nature, depending on an informed, virtuous citizenry, was susceptible to abuse by those who would disregard norms and values, consolidating power at the highest level. What we’re witnessing is the fruition of what DeTocqueville warned about but on a scale that he could never have dreamed:

Observing American democracy in its first decades, DeTocqueville marveled at how the shedding of Old World class hierarchies created a more fluid society, but warned how it could lead to excessive self-interest.

But what we’re seeing is kleptocratic pursuit of power and unlimited wealth.

DeTocqueville extolled how self-rule fostered a kind of freedom unattainable under European monarchies, but notably forewarned of potential “tyranny of the majority,” suppressing minority rights and dissenting voices.

But what we’re seeing is on another level – destruction of enumerated powers, trampling of rights, disregard for statute, abrogation of due process, and terrorizing of the political opposition. 

DeTocqueville noted how the free press plays a vital role for transparency, accountability, and public debate but foresaw potential backsliding into partisan sensationalism.

But what circulates as news is often propaganda fed into attention streams via advanced surveillance and algorithms. Distortion, misinformation, shameless lies (sometimes originating from geopolitical adversaries), adopted and amplified without adjudication.

DeTocqueville admired the potential of American pragmatism for progress and productivity but warned that unchecked it could lead to materialism.

What we’re seeing though is virtually a co-presidency with the richest man in the world who has taken it upon himself to eradicate humanitarian aid, manipulate the national Treasury, and destroy statutorily-protected federal agencies.

And, if too much American individualism and capitalist zealotry began to wear down social cohesion, at least there was religion. Untied to state power, religious voluntarism could serve civic morality and social responsibility.

But what do we have? The codification of white Christian nationalism into law. The “wall of separation” encoded at the founding erodes before our eyes as white Christians insist on America as a religious nation, forcing their views into public education, censoring speech, and restricting Constitutionally-guaranteed rights.

Almost overnight democracy is being supplanted by an oligarchic autocracy exploiting false populism, economic anxiety, resentment, and racialized nationalism. The State uses intimidation and violence to enforce its governing authority. Garden variety partisan disagreement has become a quaint notion. The whole scheme is redoubled via demonization of outgroups, which, if you think about it, is most of us – women, non-white, immigrant, non-hetero or cis-gendered.

According to ChatGPT: “a reasonable estimate suggests that at least 60-65% of the U.S. population is women, non-White, immigrants, and/or LGBTQI+” That’s a substantial majority.

So what’s up? On one hand, many in these identity groups have been hegemonized by some combination of the white-Christian-nationalist-populist ideologies of the ruling class. On the other hand, the bitter pill, which we also had to swallow eight years ago: people with opposing politics are out of touch. Tone deaf.

So after a couple of months of despair, what was my first move?  I called Ted Cruz’s Senate office and left a sarcastic voicemail. I’m not a sarcastic person. Actually, I’m rather hesitating and polite.

But I heard myself taking a super annoyed tone: “Anyone who thinks about this for 5 seconds realizes this nominee is a terrible choice.” The voice of a petulant teenager. “They’re dangerous for democracy and for people.” GAAAAH.

It’s a start I guess…

But considering what’s at issue here, how am I – how are WE – going to respond?

While it recurs in our national history, the hegemonziation of the PEOPLE by the wealthy is never stable. (See also: DeTocqueville and fall of European aristocracies.) Even though we’ve waited in what feels like vain hope that people will see and reject this political movement, I still think this is a very tenuous alignment. The all-important economic barometer: egg prices are up, not down. We’re shelling out more cash on cheap stuff we order from China. Contracts are being canceled. Jobs are being lost. Grants and funding are being withheld. Stock markets are sliding. Agencies destroyed. And this is just the beginning. Things get dicey when the state abandons consent for coercion. This is not strength but signals crisis – the fear of losing control.

Even still, I have to articulate to myself what my political orientation will be going forward. It can’t and won’t be like last time, marching in my hot pink crocheted cap up Congress Avenue toward the state Capitol. (Well, it might be.)

But what’s different this time is my fatigue with the outrage, irritation with news echo chambers and prolific disinformation, and the hopelessness that some combination of incompetency and accountability can actually check the steamrolling of our democracy. Everything feels more entrenched and also more vulnerable now – entrenched because we witnessed how the system didn’t save us last time (immunity, impunity). Public opinion did not shift despite a coup attempt and felony convictions. And now we’re in for round two, past the learning curve and with a master plan. We are vulnerable because our survival as people and as a democracy are truly at stake. This time it’s existential and the repercussions will have material repercussions on freedom, finances, and flesh.

Our mandate now is to save the system and keep each other alive.

In a word, the mode in which I’m going into the next 4 years: conscience. As defined by my favorite writer and teacher, Cynthia Bourgeault: “the capacity to take your bearings from the whole in a deeply organic way, and to see what is needed.”

Conscience not limited to a narrow calculation, ‘doing what you believe to be morally correct,’ (though it includes that), but conscience as “empathy extended to the whole.” In her words: Out of a place of humility, “you see what the situation requires to be whole and you do what is needed on your own part to restore wholeness without being deterred by the costs and you set yourself right with the situation.”

Restore wholeness. To me this feels as big and as human as this catastrophic situation calls for. It is not an intellectual exercise, a behavior modification, not small-ball moral obligation. It arises out of a feeling, an organic response, love beamed out far and wide. Unconstrained love in the face of unconstrained power. It’s enticing and energizing. It feels healing, not just for others but for me. And it comes from a place more sustainable and hopeful than outrage. It’s rooted in human need and care.

If I want to help preserve a venerable governing system – rule by and for the people – and to protect the vulnerable (including myself) from dangerous overreach, there are two things, practically speaking, that I feel called and motivated to do:

1)       Attend to basic security and safety. To me, this means listening and responding with the human instinct to help: What is needed? Is it food, shelter, a ride? Is it presence? Is it pecuniary? This is so easy and instinctive already, isn’t it? To want to help is second nature. Lean into it. Be human. Give without second guessing. Accept help when I need it. Search out authentic community. Welcome friendship and connection when it comes to me. This is hugely part of keeping our society whole, ourselves sane and happy, and yes, keeping ourselves safe in a time when basic social foundations are fracturing.

 2)       Engage in the basic civic behaviors that democracy requires: calling my senator and leaving sarcastic messages. (lol) Staying vigilant, communicating with my elected representatives, advocating for the restoration of the basic public infrastructure necessary in a free society: education, healthcare, safety regulations, public networks and utilities, aid, and enforcement of civil rights and opportunity.

Both are about human bonds: connection, community, relationships. In On Freedom, historian Timothy Snyder claims that freedom is not simply the absence of constraints but the presence of opportunities to make meaningful choices and pursue a fulfilling life. It involves having the resources, security and autonomy to act in the world.

Right now that means saying “no” to abuse at any level : unchecked power, systemic injustice, scapegoating and denial of rights. It means “yes” to security, safety, due process, adjudicated precedent, enforcement of statutory laws, to friendship, to food, shelter, healthcare, education, opportunity, self-determination, help and compassion.

For me, this means being present to others and present to the system with both courage and humanity. Law must prevail in the face of force, empathy over apathy. As Snyder reassures, no act is too small. It all matters. Now is the time for conscience and courage – private and public. It is the time to remember humanity and our natural instinct not to harm or dominate, not to separate and demonize, but to love and care for each other.