Talisse is the W. Alton Jones Professor of Philosophy at Vanderbilt University
The results from the U.S. midterm elections came as a shock to many. The sitting president’s party typically suffers significant losses in House, Senate and gubernatorial races in the first midterm election of a president’s term. Several projections leading up to Election Day speculated that a “ red wave ” – at one point upgraded to a “ red tsunami ” – of massive Republican gains across the electoral board would swamp Democrats.
Yet it was clear by the end of Election Day that Democrats had performed far better than expected. The “red wave” never materialized. Republican gains in the House were meager. The Democrats maintained control of the Senate by flipping Pennsylvania and winning tight races elsewhere.
The Democrats’ success bucks a long-standing trend in U.S. politics. The president’s popularity is often taken by pollsters and analysts as a key indicator of his party’s midterm prospects. Biden’s approval rating has been low throughout his presidency. Going into Election Day, his unpopularity was comparable to that of preceding presidents who endured substantial midterm losses. Current polling shows that 57% of Americans disapprove of Biden and 70% say the country is on the wrong track. Moreover, Americans trust the GOP more than the Democrats to handle important issues such as inflation, crime and unemployment. Yet the Democrats pulled off a surprise victory – by not losing as much as expected.
What happened?
As a political philosopher who researches democracy and partisanship, I can say that there’s no simple explanation of the midterms, despite the many that have already been declared, published or broadcast.
Elections are complex, and citizens are complicated. Voters embrace a range of priorities, they have different levels of information about their options and they’re motivated by different concerns.
Some data suggests that citizens have vastly different ideas about what it means to vote. Some see voting as a display of support for one’s party, others view it as the registering of one’s desires and some see their vote as expressing a judgment about the common good. It’s plausible that many citizens took themselves mainly to be voting against disliked candidates rather than for favored candidates.
So while politicians and pundits are fond of saying that elections express the “ will of the people,” in reality they don’t. Taken as a collective, the electorate is too much of a hodgepodge to have a will of its own.
There’s no big picture
It goes without saying that Democrats will interpret the results as proof that their political platform is widely embraced by the American people. Meanwhile, Republicans will seek an explanation for how their message failed to reach voters.
Digging deeper, political commentators have offered several interpretations, claiming that the midterms came down to some core factor, such as abortion, immigration, the affirmation of democracy itself, the repudiation of MAGA Republicanism and elevated turnout among Gen Z voters.
These explanations have their merits. But the diversity of ideas, impulses and dispositions that voters bring to elections makes big-picture election analysis problematic.
Even when a majority claims in a poll that some specific issue is “very important,” it isn’t clear that people agree about anything beyond that description. People have different views about what makes an issue important. Similarly, two citizens who vote for the same candidate might not have much else in common. Consider that it’s likely that voters who “ somewhat disapprove ” of Biden may have tipped many races in the Democrats’ favor.
It’s not that democracy falls short of discerning the people’s will, but rather that there is no collective will to express. There’s only a mess of inputs, a counting procedure and a result. Consequently, the idea that the result of a large-scale election could amount to an “endorsement” or “repudiation” of a candidate’s or party’s agenda is largely a myth.
This does not mean that midterm results are meaningless. Democracy remains government of, by and for the people. Elections are instruments by which citizens have an equal say in political decision-making.
Although electoral victories cannot plausibly be regarded as an endorsement of the victor’s ideas, elections still play a crucial role in constraining and directing officeholders. In other words, elections serve simply as a popular check on government.
Partisan identity rules
That still leaves the question of the meaning of the midterms. Here’s my single takeaway: As I’ve argued previously, U.S. democracy today is driven by partisan identity rather than policy. Elections thus are won not by changing the minds of undecided voters, but by mobilizing the party’s base.
Robust data shows that negative emotions like anger and resentment are reliably potent motivators of political behavior. Candidates who can stoke the anxieties of the party’s base are favored, while bridge-builders and cooperators are edged out.
These dynamics partly explain the success of MAGA candidates, aligned with former President Donald Trump, in GOP primaries.
However, the strategy of playing to the base comes with a cost in a general election, especially when voters see the party’s core as a significant threat to democracy.
In addition, hoping to placate their MAGA contingent, the mainstream GOP has declined to voice strong opposition to Trump’s election lies and appears dismissive of the House Jan. 6 committee’s work. The Republican Party itself hence is associated with MAGA extremism, and this association is a focus of non-Republican voters’ anger and indignation.
The Democrats’ midterm success likely has less to do with President Biden’s agenda and more to do with their willingness to stand up for familiar democratic values. ![]()
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.



















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.