I’m uninterested in politics most of the time. This is in stark contrast to my fascination with policy, and I’m generally only interested in politics insofar as it consistently prevents good policy. Politics has probably never been mostly about policy, but we’ve reached a point where the two are now completely divorced. This seems obvious to me, but it seems worth pointing out. Like most of the rest of the country, I’ve been thinking a lot about politics this week. From most of what I’ve read, however, it seems that I haven’t been thinking about it in the same way.

Ezra Klein is a dude that is pretty obsessed with politics, and he’s said a few things this week that I agree with. He’s a solidly left-wing progressive Democrat, is clearly crushed and surprised by this election, but has an important message for Democrats: at this moment you can choose curiosity or contempt. While contempt is natural, we’re all better off if you pick curiosity. If you think you have it in you to be curious about how Democrats lost so badly, his podcast this week with a Republican pollster is worth your time: https://www.nytimes.com/…/ezra-klein-podcast-patrick…

And now for my thoughts. My personal policy positions are complicated. I mention them here to ground my perspective for the comments that follow. Chances are good that no matter who you are, there are significant policy issues that I disagree with you about. In a lot of ways my views are pretty Libertarian–I’d describe myself as a classical liberal who believes that freedom is usually the right answer. I believe that the most important thing a government should do is protect the freedom of all of its citizens. I’m in favor of open borders, bodily autonomy (including the right to abortion), legalized drugs, freedom of religion, freedom from religion and freedom from government wherever possible. I believe that the free market is very often the right answer, that capitalism is a net good, and 2% year-over-year GDP growth is one of the most important and powerful forces to shape our future. I’m pro big-tech, and I don’t think it’s up to the government to protect you or your kids from social media. I don’t think dealing drugs, doing drugs, gambling or prostitution should be a crime. On the other hand, I hold many positions that are anathema to libertarianism: I think guns should be illegal. I think taxation and government services are not just required in some areas, but are an unquestionable force that can be used to shape the world for the better. I’m deeply convinced that socialized healthcare is an obvious public good, and I’m in favor of some amount of wealth redistribution. I think a strong welfare state is not just a moral imperative, but a clear benefit to all. I think the government should tax and invest heavily in science research and also the arts. Lest you think I’m a complete economic progressive: I think rent control is terrible, government subsidies for higher education is a bad idea, free college tuition worse, and student loan forgiveness is unconscionable. The mortgage interest deduction is stupid, and businesses should mostly be allowed to business until they prove they can’t be trusted. I could go on, but I think my point is clear: you and I probably don’t agree. My positions are carefully considered, evidence-based and frequently change based on new evidence. I love arguing about policy, and will often tell you that you’re wrong even if I agree with you.

That’s policy–but what about politics? In the culture wars, I’m mostly on Team Blue. There isn’t really a rational choice here, but I suspect it has mostly to do with personality type–specifically openness to experience which means I’m just going to more naturally align with Team Blue. While I don’t agree with most of the policy positions of most Democrats or Republicans, I have a visceral, deep-seated dislike for most Republican politicians as a result of their rhetoric. It’s the party of fear–fear of terrorists, immigrants, change. Until COVID, it was even the party that feared plagues (remember Ebola?).

I could never vote for Trump–the list of reasons should be obvious, but I’ll go ahead and spell out the important ones to me. On policy, Trump has mostly failed to articulate a single believable policy position, but everything he’s said is a terrible idea. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to explain why they’re all bad. But you’re not interested in a policy discussion, and chances are good you either agree with me that they’re bad policy because you think Trump is evil, or you think they’re probably fine because Trump is on your side. But policy isn’t the big reason. The big reason isn’t because he’s a threat to democracy (he is, but I think our democracy is stronger than that); the big reason is because he’s a bully. He’s interested primarily in his own self-interest, but is also deeply committed to supporting his tribe, regardless of who he has to squash to get there. And yet I totally understand the appeal. If you’d asked me to predict the election (you didn’t), I would have told you the best evidence I had is that the odds were even and I can’t do much better than that. But if you’d forced me to bet one way or the other, I’d have bet on Trump.

The Democratic party likes to think of itself as the party of inclusivity, diversity and openness. I think this was probably true until recently, but now there’s a lot of fear, maybe just as much as the Republicans. The fear of being subjected to conservative religious rule, the fear of being persecuted for being different, the fear of living in a world where single moms can’t afford groceries or healthcare, the fear of big tech controlling our lives just to sell another ad. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate.

And this leads me to my message for Team Blue: I can’t believe how much hate there is on the left now. I know some of it feels justified–it’s okay to hate Nazis, right? But you’ve gone too far. I’m shocked to find out just how much that I, someone who thought of myself as a member of Team Blue, is now in the crosshairs. As a Jew (not of the religious variety, but of the Hitler-killed-my-family-and-would-kill-me variety), I’m no longer allowed to stand up for Israel because you’ve decided the Palestinians have it worse. I’m not allowed to have an opinion on the benefits of colorblindness and the dangers of anti-racism because I’m white. I’m no longer allowed to speak the English language as I learned it. I stand by your right to be identified as any gender you like as well as your right to change your mind about that gender as often as you like. But why is it that I’m not allowed to complain that it’s nearly impossible for me to parse “they” as a singular pronoun? Maybe it seems like petty complaints to you, but to me it feels like I’m not welcome. And if you’re kicking me off the team because my views are “problematic”, what about all the people who are even more distant than me? Do you not see how small your group has become? Are you really surprised that the Hispanics you keep referring to as “Latinx”, when they themselves hate the term, think voting for you is dangerous? Are you really surprised that there are lots of women who feel alienated by your insistence that the phrase “pregnant women” is offensive, and that maybe a Trump vote feels safer to them?

The demographic shift toward Trump isn’t any one thing. Lots of people voted for Trump because they blame Biden for inflation. Nevermind that inflation was a deliberate and correct policy choice–the same choice that Trump made at the beginning of the pandemic (remember the checks he mailed so you’d see his signature on them?), and the one that Biden stuck with in the end. It’s hard to know how much of the inflation was caused by supply shocks and how much was a result of fiscal policy, and how much was because we just handed out too much money. But it was deliberate, and it worked. A couple years of inflation with high employment was well-worth avoiding a recession.

But the anger and hatred and casting out of those who disagree with you isn’t helping anything. If you can’t figure out how to make space for people with beliefs that are different than yours, things are not going to get any better. You may think that a second Trump presidency is the scariest thing you can imagine–but so many of the people who voted for him are just as scared of the world where the Democrats are in charge. It’s up to you to be less scary.