By Salem Goodman, Nicholas Merl and Juan Jose Monterrey
In the wake of the results of the 2024 election, Americans across the country are waiting in the limbo stage between the election of President-elect Donald Trump and his inauguration in January. For some, this waiting period is a time of action and discourse, and for others a time of apathy, whether that be from genuine disinterest, political burnout or, simply, comfort. But as Americans either reel or rejoice at the results of the election, the scope of citizens’ political beliefs have never been more evident. With how polarized the country has become in the last decade or so, differing beliefs now take on greater social consequences than ever before — so, is it possible to be friends with someone on the other side of the political spectrum? Radio 1190 Newsteam volunteers had opinions to share.
Salem Goodman
When it comes to being friends with people who hold different political beliefs, there are two main avenues of thought that come to mind. Firstly, both the ends and the means matter when it comes to political action. The end result — what we as citizens want our country to be — is often the same regardless of the partisan divide. We want the economy to be stable, we want housing and healthcare and other necessities to be affordable, we want safety for our children and connection in our communities. In a time where it’s common to demonize each other solely based on political party, it’s important to recognize the similarities we share, and use those similarities to build a baseline of respect and empathy during political discourse. The means in achieving these goals are what tend to differ between parties. Some people place more value on religious institutions, and believe that they should hold the responsibility of community service. For some, their religious beliefs are less important, and they believe it should be the work of the government to provide this service. In this sense, I do believe wholeheartedly that people with different beliefs can and should be friends. Echo chambers of political discourse only pull us further apart and widen the partisan divide, and it’s important to hear all sides of the issue, regardless of your own perspective.
This brings me to my second avenue of thought, which unfortunately places stipulations on this idea of bipartisan unity. This is the idea that if someone’s political beliefs involve dehumanizing or stripping rights from others, you are under no obligation to engage with them. As a queer and disabled person, if I hear someone trying to argue for conversion camps or eugenicist theory, I will not engage because that is no longer a safe place for me to exist. When someone’s political beliefs make you feel unsafe to express your identity, whether that be race, gender, sexuality or religion, you don’t have to hear them out or try to see things from their point of view. There is a difference between discussing political beliefs and discussing whether or not a group of people deserves basic human rights, and that is where many people, myself included, draw the line where friendship is concerned.
Nicholas Merl
American voters seem to be uniting around an unlikely common factor: depression. In a 2023 Pew center study, 65% of respondents reported feeling “exhausted” at the mere thought of politics. While partisanship still cuts deeply, neither side of the political spectrum seems optimistic. An October study by the Pew research center found that 71% of Republicans and 70% of democrats said the race was “too negative.” In fact, another study by the American Survey Center found that there were almost as many people who disliked both campaigns as there were supporters for either campaign. If any force can bridge Americans’ deep partisan rifts, pessimism might just be it.
Of course, 2020 still looms large in any discussion of polarization. In that election cycle, Pew center data found 77% of both Biden and Trump supporters claimed that they had “just a few” or no friends who supported the opposing candidate. A 2021 study found that of all Americans who’d recently ended a friendship, over one in five (22%) had done so over political differences. According to the data, Democrats were twice as likely as Republicans to say they had recently ended a friendship due to politics (20% vs. 10%). Yet in a sense, this level of partisan antipathy is an outlier. Pew center data from 1994 showed that only 16% of democrats and 17% of republicans viewed the other party especially negatively. By 2004, the numbers had grown to 29% and 21% respectively. Even by 2014, only 38% of democrats and 43% of republicans viewed members of the other party negatively. 27% of democrats and 36% of republicans meanwhile viewed the other party as a “threat to the nation’s well being”.
The overwhelming tide of political hostility of the last few years seems to be ebbing, at least on the interpersonal level. It could be the sheer stress of fighting an endless culture war, as well as the enduring hardships of American life stemming from cost of living simply causing people to disengage from politics. A 2024 study by the springtide research center found that over 52% of young people said they wouldn’t end a friendship over opposing political views. Whether this truly is an indication of a return to a pre-polarization US society, only time will tell. But it goes to show that at least in the moment, Americans may be pushing back on the campism of recent years.
Does this mean that people with wildly differing moral systems and worldviews can, or even should try to get along? Not necessarily. It also doesn’t remove the moral responsibility to ostracize abhorrent, elitist and dehumanizing political ideologies. But maybe, just maybe, we can all just sit down together and agree that everything just kind of sucks right now. Maybe commiseration is truly the best way of connecting with someone.
Juan Jose Monterrey
As a veteran, I’ve spent years serving and defending the principles of democracy, and that experience deeply shapes how I view political rhetoric and leadership today. I hear the phrase “Make America Great Again” tossed around, but I often find myself asking: who is this “greatness” for, and when exactly was America great for everyone? For many of us in marginalized communities, certain parts of American history aren’t something we’d want to return to. This perspective sometimes makes me question how “greatness” is defined and who it includes.
Within the veteran community at CU-Boulder, there’s a noticeable divide. Some veterans I’ve spoken with aren’t fans of Trump, yet they hesitate to support figures like Kamala Harris. I wonder, what is it that fuels this resistance? There are, of course, deeply rooted beliefs about patriotism, government and individual freedoms, all of which can shape veterans’ political views in unique ways. But, this reluctance raises an essential question about democracy itself.
If democracy is under threat — as many believe it is — then I’d expect veterans, of all people, to be the first to speak out against any form of authoritarianism. We’re a community that’s put our lives on the line for democratic values, so shouldn’t we be the loudest in defending them? In my opinion, this isn’t just about partisanship; it’s about upholding the core principles we swore to protect.