In this episode of the Politics in Question podcast, the team discusses David Shor's recent controversy-provoking advice for Democrats ahead of the 2022 midterm elections.
An illustration of people and their unique minds.
Have you ever wondered why so many otherwise reasonable people are completely bananas about politics? We all know plenty of normal and decent folks who spout wacky political views. But it’s not just our neighbors who’ve gone mad. All over the country, Americans pick and choose the facts they want to believe, champion policies they don’t understand, hold contradictory views at the same time, admire immoral politicians, loathe decent ones, and so on.
What’s going on here? And why does it seem to be getting worse?
Indeed, this irrationality has reached such heights that Joe Biden served as President of the United States despite his clearly declining mental facilities, with little objection from nearly half the country. And, even worse, a reality television star, Donald Trump, was nominated by his party and elected president for the second time after openly trying to reverse a presidential election.
Something’s going on here. Something odd and unnerving. But what, exactly, is it? What explains America’s deeply confused and dysfunctional politics?
The answer is the human mind. It’s psychology. The psychology of politics is what’s fueling this mess.
For starters, the human mind evolved over millennia in environments far different from modern society. We developed as a species in small tribal settings where most stimuli could be directly seen, touched, and experienced. We hunted. We gathered. We told stories by the fire. Our ancestors didn't read newspapers or listen to podcasts. They didn't watch cable news. And they certainly didn't doom scroll algorithmic social-media feeds at the wee hours of the night.
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Our minds are simply not engineered to accurately grasp the distant and complicated happenings of modern-day politics. We don’t do well with statistics. We over-simplify stories. We’re over-confident about what we know and understand. Figuring out what a new policy will actually achieve or who said what behind closed doors—all from a great distance—is just not something we do well. Yet, that’s what politics is all about.
Moreover, our tribal roots make us, well, tribal. We evolved relying on small tribes to help us survive. Our tribal mates helped us find food and shelter. And they protected us from rival clans. Humans thus find profound joy and comfort from being on a team. This powerful aspect of human psychology causes us to interpret political happenings in favor of our tribe and against the other side—even when facts and logic demand a different perspective.
Complicating things even further, numerous cognitive biases impact how we consume and process information. Individually, these systematic mental defects skew our thinking. Taken together, they wallop our senses and distort our paradigms. Several play a huge role in politics. Confirmation Bias makes us interpret new information in line with existing beliefs and loyalties. Hindsight Bias makes us think we were right about our previous views even when we were wrong. The Narrative Bias makes us create stories out of disparate facts, even when the facts don't support the story. The Availability Heuristic makes us over-weigh the importance of the information we are aware of (that's available) compared to other relevant information.
A powerful bias that compounds and overlays all these other mental glitches, moreover, is Bias Bias: we don't think we're biased at all. As cognitive psychologist Carol Tavris explained, “The brain is designed with blind spots, optical and psychological, and one of its cleverest tricks is to confer on its owner the comforting delusion that he or she does not have any.” We humans thus righteously proclaim our unique version of the truth, certain we’re correct yet oblivious to all the holes and errors in what we espouse.
In sum, we are tribal, biased creatures with a machine between our ears—the human mind—that doesn't work the way we think it does. And this machine is the tool we use to think about politics. The political news we ingest must first be run through our psychology in order to reach our conclusions. Is it any wonder, then, that our politics are stark raving mad? Indeed, most of what we call politics boils down to this: people and politicians making sense of the world and then expressing their opinions—at the dinner table, online, at the water cooler, from behind the podium.
We must do better. It’s fine to be biased with sports. Who cares if millions of disgruntled fans wrongly believe the refs cost them the game? But politics is different. In a democratic society, the views of the populace determine elections, shape policies, and influence decisions about war and peace. The more these views are rooted in accurate thinking—and the less they are distorted by psychological factors—the better the outcomes will be. Put simply: if we want rational policies and politicians, we must first be rational ourselves.
William Cooper is the author of How America Works … And Why It Doesn’t.
A person holding a stack of dollar bills that are flying away.
The 2024 film, “Anora,” about a young woman victimized by sex trafficking, recently won five Oscars at the Academy Awards. Perhaps, it is a signal of more awareness and less stigma surrounding the pervasiveness of domestic violence at all levels of society.
The ongoing lawsuits between actors Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni claiming sexual harassment and violence threat allegations around their film, “It Ends With Us,” about a relationship scarred with domestic violence, demonstrates the thin line between real life and on-screen adaptations.
In this 2024 film, the character Lily, who is an entrepreneur and owner of a floral shop, and whose partner is a neurosurgeon, tells a few friends and a coworker about the abuse, just as many do in real life.
The choice for victims and survivors of Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) to reveal their victimization varies, as some decide to tell their co-workers and employers. However, the response is remarkably different depending on who the survivor is and their role in the workplace.
These disclosures in the workplace are often due to feeling unsupported and disbelieved by the peer and family systems. They are also driven by the fear of their abusive partners' long-reach impact, potential loss of employment, and the economic devastation experienced when loss of hours leads to diminished income.
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In a 2023 study, the researcher found that an employee's decision to disclose their experiences with IPV was dependent on their pay. Highly paid employees are more likely to reveal their victimization to their employer as it was directly affected by their pay level.
This correlates to my more than 30 years as an expert, trainer, and program consultant in domestic violence based in California. My experience working with survivors and their employers spotlights the inequity of how organizational and corporate responses differ. The range is from effective responsiveness towards the “ideal employee” and “indifferences and retributive responses” for those on the “frontline” or those determined to be “essential” workers.
In 2021, colleagues told me about a program manager at a community-based housing service provider who was allowed to work remotely in response to escalating threats of intimate partner violence and a restraining order. At the same time, a frontline or outreach worker was advised to carefully assess how many days they could safely take off to respond to an emergency restraining order.
Both women, who were from the BIPOC community, only differed in rank and pay scale. The program manager was a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and the outreach worker had a high school diploma.
The degree of threat and violence for both women included stalking, interference with their work, and history of intimate partner sexual violence. Both were actively seeking the enforcement of court-issued restraining orders.
But the response was different. The program manager was given extra security, walked to her vehicle, and the security team was briefed on both the restraining order and a photo of the abuser. The outreach worker was offered neither accommodation nor was she approached by leadership with the same level of interest in her well-being.
While no survivor's victimization is the same, this example spotlights long-standing inequities reported by frontline essential workers when considering whether to disclose IPV victimization to their employers or supervisors.
Ultimately, the program manager was able to retain her position as she navigated countless court hearings and law enforcement contact. The frontline worker self-terminated when she ran out of sick time and paid time off and could no longer justify to her supervisor missing any more work days due to needing to respond to law enforcement, court appearances, and child welfare referrals.
Many low-wage earners report they are often viewed as expendable and easily replaceable. This supports why, very often, they are less likely to seek supportive services. Their economic survival is threatened by the violence at home and coping with stigma and potential social shaming of employers if they report.
Survivors who are in management and leadership roles often find themselves with the advantage of knowing how to effectively use and navigate employer resources and having an enhanced understanding of Human Resources and personnel as well as Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act-mandated reporting policies.
This is often in steep contrast to the knowledge of resources by essential workers who are often not afforded the same accommodations and support, even when employed by the same organization.
In California, for instance, despite the passage of California’s AB 1038 in 2013, which was meant to afford survivors with additional time of leave, it is essential workers who often cannot afford any type of unpaid leave and usually have exhausted their paid time off, sick time, and vacation time.
The National Institutes of Health estimates that intimate partner violence lifetime cost is $103,767 per female victim. The report states, an “economic burden of nearly $3.6 trillion over victims’ lifetimes, based on 43 million U.S. adults with victimization history.”
As a survivor of IPV, it was not the domestic violence or stalking experience that adversely handicapped my return to employment, it was the social shaming and stigma that accompanied my abuse. I had experienced intimate partner-facilitated exploitation and trafficking, as well as image-based sexual assault.
A U.S. State Department Trafficking in Persons Report cites a UNICEF study, which found that almost 70% of adult female trafficking victims experienced domestic violence prior to being trafficked. The National Domestic Violence Hotline reveals that 27% of respondents reported being threatened with non-consensual intimate image sharing and 17% had experienced image-based sexual assault.
A study by the National Institute of Health, “Corporate Responses to Intimate Partner Violence”, shows that larger organizations, with a larger representation of women in management and leadership, had the capacity to improve outcomes for survivors who disclosed IPV.
When fair policies integrate with practices, issues related to gender-equity such as IPV reflect efforts to promote social responsibilities.
The goal is for employers, leaders, organizations, and communities to move toward more information, understanding, and enhanced organizational and corporate responses to economic equity in IPV responsiveness.
The mission is to end the violence and assist all survivors regardless of their position on the economic ladder. All survivors must have the opportunity to attain the safety, stability, and financial security they deserve.
Elizabeth Vera is a domestic violence survivor, founder and CEO of Vera Strategies Training and Consulting, national speaker with 30 years of advocacy and a member of The OpEd Project Public Voices Fellowship on Domestic Violence and Economic Security.
Environmental Protection Agency EPA | Where James works | mccready ...
WASHINGTON—The federal government laid off more than 60,000 workers in the first two months of 2025, while another 75,000 employees accepted a buyout and voluntarily resigned.
Among those laid off was James Clark, an Environmental Protection Agency employee who lost his job while on his honeymoon. “It’s just very sad to see someone like Elon Musk take a chainsaw on live TV and say what we do doesn’t matter,” said Clark.
Victoria Ryan is an immigration and demographics reporter at Northwestern University, studying journalism and political science.
Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) speaks to reporters at the U.S. Capitol on March 14, 2025 in Washington, DC.
On March 14, the GOP-led Senate passed a stopgap spending bill to keep the federal government running until September 30. The bill’s passage was made possible by Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer’s last-minute reversal—shifting from opposing the measure and advocating for a shorter extension to allowing the bill to advance. His decision was purely tactical: he feared Democrats would be blamed for a shutdown.
Schumer’s move provided the necessary votes to overcome procedural hurdles, effectively thwarting a Democratic filibuster. While Republican support for Trump’s budget was unsurprising, the Democratic leadership’s decision to go along was a stunning concession. It handed the Trump administration a significant victory while further eroding Congress’s budgetary authority, shifting more spending power to the executive branch.
Schumer attempted to justify his decision as preventing Trump from consolidating control during a shutdown. However, many within his party saw it as a capitulation that, ironically, granted Trump the unchecked power Democrats were trying to avoid.
Democrats initially opposed the bill because it lacked clear congressional directives on fund allocation. Republicans used a budget tool known as a continuing resolution (CR) instead of passing an appropriations bill. Unlike a traditional budget, which assigns specific funding to agencies and programs, the CR merely extends existing funding levels without dictating how those funds must be spent. It is the latter that is the cause for great concern.
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This omission grants the Trump administration unprecedented control over federal spending, including the ability to cut funding for certain agencies or redirect money toward favored programs.
This is not just a technicality—it is a fundamental shift in power. The federal budget for fiscal year 2024-2025 was the result of detailed bipartisan negotiations, setting clear parameters for how agencies should spend taxpayer dollars. The CR removes these guardrails.
While agencies technically receive the same funding levels, the Trump administration now has the discretion to withhold, delay, or redirect funds at will. What should be Congress’s responsibility has been ceded to the president.
Beyond that, the CR merely delays critical fiscal decisions. Instead of resolving budget disputes, Congress has kicked the can down the road until September, setting up another round of political brinkmanship. Arguably, Schumer’s decision to allow the CR to go forward weakens the Democrats’ bargaining position for the next round.
While the short-term effects are bad, the long-term consequences are disastrous. This cycle of short-term fixes weakens the stability of government operations and hinders federal agencies from making long-term plans. Hiring freezes, delayed contracts, and deferred policy initiatives are now the norm.
In effect, Congress’ failure to act decisively strengthens Trump’s ability to reshape the federal government by default, reducing oversight, weakening regulatory agencies, and centralizing power within the executive branch.
If Congress continues using temporary spending patches instead of passing full appropriations bills, it risks permanently shifting control over the budget to the president.
Future presidents, regardless of party, will have a blueprint for bypassing congressional authority, using CRs to dictate spending priorities without congressional approval. This would fundamentally alter the balance of power in Washington and plainly violate the Constitution’s provisions that give Congress the power to make these decisions.
Agencies may start ignoring Congress altogether, looking instead to the White House for funding guidance. Legislative oversight will weaken, allowing the president to govern through discretionary spending rather than legislation. Constitutional checks and balances will erode, increasing the risk of an imperial presidency where executive power grows unchecked.
The nation cannot afford Congress to be a passive player in the budget process. Lawmakers must pass detailed appropriations bills rather than rely on continuing resolutions.
They need to strengthen oversight of executive actions to prevent spending from being used as a political weapon. Bipartisan coalitions should be built to restore regular order in the budget process. This is not new; this is how things were done before the current Congress, right up to last year.
Members of Congress must also engage with the public to highlight the importance of congressional control over spending and the dangers of unchecked executive power. It is probably something of a stretch to expect Republicans to criticize Trump, but Democrats must do so.
While the latest CR prevented an immediate shutdown, it did so at the cost of congressional authority. By delaying real budget negotiations until September, Congress has set the stage for yet another fiscal crisis, one that Trump can exploit to further consolidate power.
If lawmakers fail to reclaim their role in the budget process, they risk permanently ceding their constitutional authority, allowing future presidents to reshape federal spending with little to no oversight.
The consequences of such a shift could fundamentally alter American democracy, turning budgetary control into a tool of executive power rather than a function of representative government.
Robert Cropf is a professor of political science at Saint Louis University.
