Latino voters continue to have a growing impact on elections. The Bully Pulpit podcast from the University of Southern California's Center for the Political Future discusses how political parties are engaging with Latino voters.
Frustrated with the two-party system? An argument for a tripartisan alternative: an Independent Caucus of 5-6 senators with leverage over major legislation.
The evidence continues to come in -- lately from USA Facts and the Unpopulist-- that the majority of American voters don't like our two-party political system. Yet there is no consensus on what we want to replace it with.
There does seem to be an assumption that if you don't like the two-party system, then you want a political system which supports more than two parties, namely a multi-party system.
New America's Lee Drutman, the author of Breaking the Two-Party Doom Loop, has made the best case yet for a multi-party system. For those who want a multi-party political system, read his very engaging, well-argued book.
Still, the assumption that the alternative to the two-party system, at least the democratic alternative, is the multi-party system needs to be challenged.
It may be true that most Americans would prefer a multi-party system to our two-party system. So, turn us into a multi-party democracy like Europe, Japan, South Korea, Canada, and Australia, but leave out the parliamentary structure. Thus, a presidential/legislative structure, but multi-party rather than two-party.
The problem with this way of framing the situation is that many Americans probably do not understand that there is an alternative to a two-party system that is not about having more political parties (and having them in a system that welcomes them), even with ranked-choice voting, impartial redistricting committees, fusion voting, and proportional representation.
No, there is an alternative to the two-party system, which has nothing to do with political parties.
So how can this be?
Well, very simply. There is an alternative I have been defending for three years, namely a system that seeks tripartisanship and not bipartisanship, one which does so by developing an Independent Caucus of 5-6 U.S. Senators. An Independent Caucus can be developed in the House also, but an IC is less needed in the House.
In the Senate, an IC could have enormous leverage, where votes could be needed not only to reach 51 votes but to reach 60 votes on major policy bills.
The IC, as I conceive it, would be made up of senators from diverse political perspectives. They would not all be centrists.
They can be elected as independents, convert from a major party to independent, or remain independent if they are elected as independents (like Sanders and King) rather than caucus with either major party.
The IC is not a political party. It would be much smaller; it would have no central organizing committee, and it would not be a fundraising machine for a platform. No, the IC would be a group of senators who are driven by their own values, beliefs, and interests. But they would realize that they will only have power if, at times, some or most or all of them vote together to support a bill up for consideration.
Why the IC could hang together is a very complicated question. It is just as complicated as the question multi-party system advocates must answer about how they expect to get laws passed state by state or nationally that would create the election reforms that their system would need to support many political parties.
Suffice to say that no one in politics or life gets everything they want. But hanging together would enable the IC to get some of their favorite bills passed, and those times when they had to hold their nose would be for the good of the country.
The two-party system can be fundamentally changed without creating a multi-party system and without election reform measures that pose monumental obstacles as a matter of state or federal politics.
There is, thus, a false dichotomy in many political circles between a two-party system vs. a multi-party system. It is assumed that there are two alternatives to structuring American politics, one which has two parties that have power and one which has three, four, five, or more parties that have power.
There is a middle position, a way to empower over 60 million Americans who do not identify with either major party. The middle position promotes tripartisanship, not bipartisanship or systems that empower four parties or five parties or more.
We can fix the two-party system without trying to empower other political parties. We can fix the system by empowering a group of 5-6 U.S. Senators from diverse perspectives.
Dave Anderson edited "Leveraging: A Political, Economic and Societal Framework," has taught at five universities and ran for the Democratic nomination for a Maryland congressional seat in 2016.
Woman talking with colleagues
Philanthropy is very good at responding to crises. It is less effective at preventing them.
If we want democracy to uphold, we must invest in the leaders who sustain it.
By democracy, we mean not only institutions and elections, but the everyday practice of civic engagement: people participating, organizing, speaking freely, and shaping public life without fear. And as the country approaches a consequential midterm election this November, the health of our democracy will be in the spotlight.
In recent years, when American democracy needed leadership most—when the rule of law was openly tested and fear became a common sentiment of civic life—many of the leaders we expected to hold the line did not. Across government, civil society, higher education, media and the private sector, institutions and individuals hesitated (or capitulated entirely) as authoritarian tactics moved from the fringes toward the governing center.
The consequences are visible far beyond Washington. Public life in the United States has become tense, conflict-charged, and, for many, unsafe. Neighbors arrive at school board meetings already convinced the other side is an enemy. Civil servants weigh whether doing their jobs will cost them their careers. Colleges discreetly change their language, course offerings, and priorities, lessening academic freedom to avoid scrutiny. Community organizations face harassment and intimidation. As immigration enforcement has intensified beyond our existing norms and due process has been abandoned, fear has increasingly become an everyday civic condition for many.
The approaching midterms will inevitably focus national attention on candidates, campaigns, polling, and who controls the levers of power in the government for the next two years. Those things have important ramifications. But elections alone cannot produce a healthy democracy. Democracy also depends on the people who lead between elections, those who work tirelessly in local government, school districts and university systems, non-profits, newsrooms, workplaces, and communities. When people are frightened and distrustful of the government bodies, they disengage. And when they disengage, democracy thins.
Recent research underscores both the depth of public distrust and the importance of civic action. In a September 2025 survey, the Pew Research Center found that only 17 percent of Americans trusted the federal government to do what is right always or most of the time—down from 73 percent in 1958, when the National Election Study first asked the question. That figure has not exceeded 30 percent since 2007. (pewresearch.org) The V-Dem Institute’s 2026 Democracy Report found that civil-society repression occurred in 68 percent of countries undergoing autocratization. The same report also identified active civil society, independent media, unified political opposition, and sustained nonviolent protest as the societal forces that drive democratic recovery. (v-dem.net) The lesson for philanthropy is clear: democracy cannot be defended by elected officials and formal institutions alone. It also requires leaders and networks capable of sustaining civic participation when those institutions come under pressure.
Philanthropy has responded to the fires, as it should. Legal defense, emergency aid, rapid-response organizing, and protection for targeted at-risk communities are urgent and necessary choices.
But philanthropy is structurally overinvested in crisis response and underinvested in the leadership that could prevent those crises and help reestablish democratic norms in their wake.
Philanthropy has an opportunity to do more. If we want a democratic future that is not permanently reactive, we cannot fund only what is immediately on fire. We cannot build resilient democracies through emergency funding cycles alone. We need to invest in the people who keep the governmental and civil society institutions essential to democratic life functioning, even under strain, and who can fortify them when they falter. This is the essence of true democratic leadership well beyond our current focus on elected officials, voting rights, etc.
Much democracy funding prioritizes immediate action and tangible results, leaving little room for sustained and longer-term investment in how people learn to lead. Yet leadership is learned. It requires skill to hold conflict without breaking, to work across deep differences without surrendering core values, to build trust, endure backlash, and to remain steady when incentives reward personal gain over responsibility.
The emergency funding pipeline for democracy mostly finds its way to institutions, but that approach misses a more basic question: who animates those institutions, and with what preparation? Courts, elections, watchdog groups, and journalism are essential, but they do not function on their own. They depend on people making daily decisions under pressure. Too often, those people are isolated, without peer networks, mentors, or spaces to steady themselves. Current events make clear that we have a shortage of support for capable people to equip them to lead at various levels of the systems that run democracy.
Philanthropy must treat leadership development as essential civic infrastructure. That means investing early in the people who will inherit today’s challenges: young organizers, public servants, technologists, and community leaders, many of whom are stepping up without the preparation or backing the moment requires.
It also means funding cohorts rather than lone heroes. Democracy does not survive through singular figures; it survives through networks of people across sectors and communities who share skills, commitments, and the courage that comes from not being alone. Leaders do their work with and through others, not in isolation.
The evidence increasingly suggests that leadership development is most effective when it builds relationships as well as individual skills. A 2017 peer-reviewed review in The Leadership Quarterly by Kristin Cullen-Lester, Cynthia Maupin, and Dorothy Carter made the case that leadership development should extend beyond individual knowledge and competencies to strengthen the social relationships that support both individual and collective leadership capacity. (sciencedirect.com) More recently, a 2026 study led by the Impact Fellowships Network and IREX examined 23 fellowship programs and gathered insights from 1,630 alumni and community partners across 141 countries. It found that peer learning was especially influential in supporting change at the individual and institutional levels, while access to networks and professional opportunities helped leaders overcome barriers such as limited resources and connections—and these were most strongly associated with change at the community and system levels. (irex.org) Together, these findings strengthen the case for investing in cohorts, mentoring, and the relationships through which leaders collaborate and sustain their work.
It requires investing in what is often overlooked: mentoring, coaching, relational skills, and the ability to navigate difficult conversations. These are not extras; they are what allow people to remain grounded when institutions are under strain.
And it requires measuring what matters over time. Leadership investments compound. Participants mentor others, build initiatives, enter public service, and carry democratic norms into spaces where they are most needed. The result is not just individuals with vital leadership skills, but stronger networks capable of responding to future challenges.
The future of American democracy will not be determined only by elections or court rulings. It will be shaped by whether we build a leadership bench that is deep enough, broad enough, and resilient enough to meet the years ahead.
Philanthropy can continue to fund the emergencies that arise from democratic erosion or it can rebalance its approach to also invest more boldly in the people who make democratic life possible in the first place.
Azadeh Khalili is the Executive Director of Humanity in Action, Inc.
Dr. Lisette Nieves is the President of Fund for the City of New York.
Manzanar War Relocation Center in Owens Valley, Inyo County, California, 23rd March 1942. Approximately 11,000 Japanese Americans were detained at Manzanar, one of ten American internment camps during World War II.
Survivors of Japanese American incarceration during World War II joined Latino immigrant rights advocates, faith leaders and community organizers for a 48-mile pilgrimage across Washington state from October 7 to 10, drawing parallels between the forced imprisonment of Japanese Americans more than eight decades ago and the detention of immigrant families under the Trump administration.
The four-day march, titled From Remembrance to Resistance, was organized by Tsuru for Solidarity in partnership with La Resistencia and the Free Families Coalition. It connected historic sites of Japanese American incarceration with locations central to immigration enforcement today, culminating in a planned gathering outside the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma.
La Resistencia, a Washington-based grassroots organization led by undocumented immigrants and people directly affected by immigration enforcement, has spent more than a decade fighting to close the Tacoma detention center and advocating for people held inside.
Founded in 2014 during a hunger strike involving more than 1,200 detained immigrants, the organization has become a prominent voice in Washington’s immigrant rights movement. Its work includes supporting detained people and their families, documenting complaints about detention conditions and challenging deportations.
The pilgrimage brought that ongoing campaign together with survivors who experienced government incarceration during World War II.
“I am walking to show my outrage and to oppose immigrant detention,” Reverend Kenji Okohashi, a survivor of Japanese American incarceration during World War II, told Washington Latino News.
“As a Japanese American survivor of WWII concentration camps I know what it feels like to be imprisoned by a government violating its own constitution and laws. History is repeating itself. Having experienced this as a child I know the lifelong damage it can inflict,” Okohashi said.
The march began October 7 in Seattle’s Chinatown International District, where Japanese American families were forcibly removed from their homes in 1942. Participants followed a route through Tukwila, Auburn and Puyallup toward Tacoma, visiting locations connected to both historical incarceration and contemporary immigration enforcement.
Among the locations highlighted was King County International Airport, also known as Boeing Field, where immigrant rights organizations have campaigned against deportation flights.
Organizers called for an end to those flights, the closure of the Northwest ICE Processing Center and an end to what they describe as unauthorized holding rooms for immigrant children and families at a federal immigration facility in Tukwila. The allegations involving the Tukwila facility have not been independently verified by Washington Latino News.
The Tacoma facility, operated by private prison company GEO Group under contract with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, has long been a focus of demonstrations, hunger strikes and complaints about detention conditions.
For immigrant families in Washington, the campaign raises questions about detention practices, access to legal protections and the consequences of separation from relatives facing deportation.
La Resistencia’s involvement also reflects a broader effort to build solidarity between communities that have experienced detention, displacement and government enforcement policies across different generations.
The historical connection is central to the pilgrimage.
Following President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066 in 1942, more than 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry were incarcerated by the U.S. government, approximately two-thirds of them American citizens.
In Washington, more than 7,500 Japanese Americans were imprisoned at the Puyallup Assembly Center, commonly known as Camp Harmony, before being transferred to other incarceration camps.
The Puyallup fairgrounds became one of the pilgrimage’s most significant stops, with organizers scheduling a healing ceremony and a reading of the names of Japanese Americans imprisoned there during World War II.
On October 8, participants also focused attention on the federal immigration facility in Tukwila, where immigration advocates have raised concerns about arrests involving people attending immigration proceedings. U.S. Rep. Adam Smith was among the announced speakers at the gathering.
For participants, the walk offered a way to connect personal memories of injustice with a collective response to current immigration policies.
“I’m impressed by the power of the group, how much more confident and positive I feel, walking with everybody and being together,” Vince Schleitwiler, a Seattle member of Tsuru for Solidarity, told Washington Latino News.
The event was intended to bring attention to people detained inside the facility and the families affected by immigration detention, while renewing demands for the center’s closure.
The Washington pilgrimage was part of a broader national effort to oppose immigration detention and family separation, following a similar march in Texas earlier this year.
For Okohashi, the significance of the demonstration extended beyond remembering what happened to Japanese Americans during World War II.
“We must all now stand up and decide to oppose the cruelty and violence of this administration. We must demand closure of these cruel prisons and free the people inside, especially children,” he said.
Washington March Unites Japanese American Survivors and Latino Immigrant Advocates was first published by Washington Latino News and is republished with permission.Alex Segura is Managing Editor for Latino News Network West, overseeing California Latino News and Washington Latino News. He is a California-based journalist with more than a decade of experience covering U.S. politics, immigration, and Latino communities.
Nearly 50 million young adults can vote in 2026, but many doubt it matters. Why civic education, civic seals, and preregistration must start in high school.
Nearly 50 million young people ages 18-29 will be eligible to vote this November, including an estimated eight million who have become newly eligible since the 2024 election. The conversation about this voting bloc tends to focus on two big questions: what will it take to get young people to the polls, and which party will capture their vote? But these are exactly the wrong questions to be asking about a generation of young people who view civic institutions with skepticism and distrust. At a time of deep political polarization and growing social isolation, we cannot narrow civic engagement down to the ballot box or let partisan divides distract us from the long-term work of building civic participation.
Despite persistent narratives about youth disengagement, Gen Z cares deeply about a range of issues and the country’s future. According to the Center for Information & Research on Civic Learning and Engagement (CIRCLE) at Tufts University, 89% of youth are willing to vote and a large majority are willing to talk to friends and family about the issues they care about. Yet 44% are unsure whether their vote matters or do not believe that it does, posing a risk for voter turnout. The disconnect reflects a gap between caring about political issues and believing their participation can make a difference.
That gap is part of a broader lack of trust in whether democracy is working for young people. Only 16% say democracy is working well for their generation, and many say they do not feel heard or represented. Economic concerns, which cut across demographics and political beliefs, further compound that sense of disempowerment. Building this trust cannot happen only at election time. Young people need meaningful opportunities to participate in civic life, develop their voices, and see that their participation can make a difference before, during, and after elections. That means more than a registration form and a reminder to get to the polls. They need the knowledge, confidence, agency, and experience to understand issues, evaluate choices, and see themselves as participants in democracy.
This kind of civic immersion can’t wait until college or career. Yet most voter engagement efforts focus on young people once they are eligible to vote, often once they reach college. This trend reinforces a transactional relationship with politics rather than cultivating lasting civic engagement. If we want lifelong participants in democracy, we cannot wait until young people are eligible to vote to engage them.
A thriving democracy needs quality, generationally relevant on-ramps to help young people get excited about and enter into the democratic habits of collective self-government. Accessible information and voter activation are important. But they can only go so far if we haven't built the civic foundation that helps young people engage in the first place.
The work starts earlier, in schools, which remain the local cornerstones of public life in many of America’s communities. High school is a critical period for developing civic identity, confidence, and agency. Research shows that feeling like your voice matters is connected to both voting and broader civic action. CIRCLE research found that 81% of students who strongly felt their voices and opinions mattered in high school said they were extremely likely to vote. The relationship also extended to broader civic action. Young people must see themselves as protagonists whose voices can shape the decisions and communities around them.
Sustainable, long-range policy planning can help make that journey possible and equitable. Civic seals in New York and California are excellent examples of policy activating youth civic engagement. In both states, over 22,000 graduating seniors receive diploma seals that recognize — and celebrate — their development of civic knowledge, identity, and skills that contribute to community-based problem solving.
The next step is making it easier for young people to become voters when they are ready. Public policies such as preregistration at 16 and expanding access to voter registration at 18 can help make meaningful civic learning and participation accessible to every young person.
When robust voting education and voting registration opportunities happen in a pre-college setting, research indicates the high potential for the habit to become stickier, rather than that work beginning in a postsecondary context. RISE Vote, a nonpartisan voter registration initiative led by Generation Citizen, New Voters, and The Civics Center, is an example of what earlier engagement looks like. The initiative provides high school students with the tools and resources to register, become informed, and participate in the election. With 200 high school voter registration events slated to take place through Spring 2027, what distinguishes RISE Vote from other youth voting initiatives is that it meets young people before college and treats voter engagement as part of broader civic development, rather than a one-time turnout effort.
Whether the opportunity is civic seals or nonpartisan voter pre-registration, sustainable policy prioritizes the engagement and entrance of young folks into America’s public life.
The 2026 midterms, in an important respect, transcend questions of party affiliation. From a civic leadership development standpoint, it offers an important opportunity to engage a new generation of voters in the political process. If we want young people to become lifelong participants in democracy, we need to cultivate their voice, agency, and civic knowledge long before we ask them to cast a ballot. That’s not just work facing young people. It’s up to all of us to drive it forward.
Andrew Wilkes serves as Generation Citizen’s Chief Policy & Advocacy Officer, where he leads GC’s thought leadership, coalition building, and policy initiatives as a part of the national leadership team.
