My “independent” MAGA-voting roommates claim I pushed them to vote for Trump, that my voice was too critical, too condescending and too accusatory. During the election season, I tended to agree. When it came to marketing Kamala Harris as the next president, the Democratic party repeated the same old strategy — urging voters to consider character above all else — even though the country was clearly begging for policy solutions or honest talk. Surprise surprise, it didn’t work.
So, what can we do from here? How do we adjust our strategy? Because, the way I see it, this whole perspective of FAFO, “you shouldn’t be friends with a Trump voter” bullshit is not only the wrong practical strategy but the incorrect moral strategy as well. Before I move on, by we, I mean hopeful, young, liberal-minded people who are still trying to figure out how that large orange con-artist of a man made it back into the Oval Office.
What I hope to do here is figure out what motivated those Trump voters. By “those,” I don’t mean Proud Boys or devoted rally attendees, or even Joe Rogan or Jordan Peterson followers. I’m talking about those young, mostly white men who claim to not pick sides, who say they’re morally grounded, yet end up voting for someone who spouts everything from bigotry to blatantly false claims of immigrant violence.
Ask these “independent” Trump voters about policies, and you’ll get broad answers: the economy, foreign policy or freedom of speech. But they can’t fully explain why that worry overshadows their concerns about Trump’s track record. These voters are aware of his moral failings, but they are not bothered by them. They hold a general apathy toward politics (though not enough to avoid the polls altogether) and they love the idea of separating ethics from politics. So, if we young liberals claim to be the party of empathy, we have been given the perfect opportunity to practice it here.
Vice President JD Vance, while on the campaign trail, advocated for a hierarchy of caring: love your family, then your neighbor, then your community, then your country and only if there’s enough empathy left should you care for anyone else. I find this to be shortsighted and destructive. I also see it as inherently un-Christian… but, I am not here to critique Vance’s understanding of his religion. Still, I see in it a reflection of how we view these “independent” Trump voters. We reduce them to moral failures, assuming they’ve chosen oppression deliberately, overlooking what might be a deeper, less conscious driver of their votes.
Here’s another perspective: I think most people’s political orientations — and the outcomes they vote for — are heavily influenced by where and how they were raised. The reality is that many folks who end up voting Republican aren’t necessarily sitting around plotting to uphold systemic inequalities. Rather, they’ve grown up in a culture steeped in individualism — the idea that if you’re okay, or your immediate circle is okay, then the system must be fine.
It’s fair to call out how this individualistic worldview perpetuates inequality. But it’s also fair to recognize that few people consciously choose to maintain it. They’re born into it, shaped by the news cycles, social media feeds and educational paths that either confirm or challenge their assumptions. By that same token, I grew up a lifelong Democrat. Sure, studying political science informed my perspective, but my upbringing is just as crucial as how I see the world.
If I’m going to acknowledge how much my background affects me, then I should also grant that same courtesy to those who voted for Trump. It doesn’t mean excusing bigotry or pretending harmful policies aren’t harmful. It does mean recognizing that plenty of people don’t view their choices as bigoted at all. In their minds, they’re upholding deeply American principles about freedom and individual rights.
I’m not talking about the people openly celebrating hate. I’m talking about those who seem morally earnest yet cast ballots for someone who stokes fear about immigrants and dismisses entire communities. If I believe the true remedy to political division is greater empathy — asking “how did you get here?” — then I need to live that approach consistently.
So, maybe there is a convicted felon in office because a lot of voters are lacking moral imagination. Or maybe it’s deeper than that — so much less conscious — stemming from a belief system built on individualism, opportunity myths and personal experience. If you feel compelled to shout that society is broken and people need to wake up, I’ll be right there with you. But don’t just place the blame on “independent” voters. Ask how their sense of civic responsibility got overwhelmed by what they perceive to be their own urgent needs.
We can’t persuade anyone by dismissing them as beyond reason. Empathy means more than saying “I understand you.” It means trying to unravel why they believe what they do, even if it seems contradictory. Only then can we begin the harder work of showing why the policies they voted for might undermine their own core values.
