Friedman is a former president of Public Agenda and the founder of its Hidden Common Ground initiative.
Survey research can serve democracy by illuminating people’s views, values and concerns. But, as an exhausted nation with a shredding social fabric faces a fateful midterm, I worry about the ways polling can also exacerbate America’s polarization problem.
Pollsters often ask questions in ways that exaggerate America’s divisions. This feeds the narrative, trumpeted by news outlets and weaponized by demagogues, of two monolithic nations vehemently opposed on every conceivable question. Yes, our national parties are polarized to the point of dysfunction, as are significant segments of the American public. But in many instances the narrative mischaracterizes the American people overall, feeding the anxiety and depression sweeping the land like omicron and depleting our democratic imagination when we need it most.
For example, an NPR/PBS News Hour/Marist Poll in June 2021 asked which concerned respondents more, “making sure everyone who wants to vote can do so” or “making sure that no one votes who is not eligible.” The poll found strong partisan polarization, with 85 percent of Democrats concerned with access and 72 percent of Republicans with security.
But what if you ask the question in a less binary way, as a Public Agenda/USA Today poll did in July? Rather than an either/or question, respondents were asked if their biggest priority was “preventing voter fraud,” “making voting simpler, convenient and hassle free for everyone,” or “preventing fraud AND making voting simple, convenient and hassle free”? A consensus of Republicans (67 percent), Democrats (64 percent) and independents (73 percent) chose the third option. Rather than extreme polarization, we see considerable common ground.
Which is the more accurate representation? Binary questions can sometimes reveal important partisan differences, such as on America's racial reckoning. But election security vs. voter access? Just because politicians pretend it’s an either/or proposition is no reason for pollsters to mimic a false choice and create a false impression.
A Pew study from April 2021 shows that the common ground on voting extends to concrete proposals, including requiring paper backups for electronic voting machines and permitting in-person voting for at least two weeks. More, the Public Agenda/USA Today poll found that super majorities of Republicans, Democrats and independents agree that the federal government should ensure voting access for everyone.
We see a similar pattern on culture war flare-ups about teaching American history, as in a recent USA Today article based on an Ipsos poll. “[N]ot surprisingly,” it contends, “the issue is firmly politicized: More than 8 in 10 Democrat parents believed their children should learn about the lingering impact of slavery and racism in schools, compared with fewer than 4 in 10 Republican parents.”
While the issue can be politicized, is it so starkly polarized among most Americans? Another Public Agenda/USA Today poll casts doubt. Respondents were asked which school curriculum would do the most to bring the country together. One that emphasizes “America’s achievements and greatness and honors its traditions,” “America’s shortcomings, mistakes and how it needs to change,” or “both America’s shortcomings and achievements”? Majorities or pluralities across the political spectrum favored the both/and response, showing a great many Americans willing to engage the kind of question posed by Eddie Glaude in reflecting on James Baldwin: “What does the story of slavery … look like when told in a way that neither glosses over the cruelty and failures of the country nor demonizes every aspect of the society… ?”
There are plenty of reasons pollsters sometimes frame questions in ways that elicit polarized responses, including that news outlets find those stories easier to tell than more nuanced ones. Another was suggested to me by a leading academic researcher: Pollsters take their cues from the way political leaders frame issues. He asked if I thought they should take it upon themselves to do otherwise. My response is that researchers should frame questions in ways that enable people to express what they really think.
Polls should do more than ask people to react to the limited choices offered by powerful, dysfunctional elites. If our democracy is to renew itself in this time of existential threat, pollsters can help by neither exaggerating nor papering over our differences. They should pay as much attention to the common ground upon which solutions and coalitions can be built as to the authentic disagreements the nation must navigate. They can help by letting the people speak.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.