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Playing Optimistic Offense: Developing Teammates, Citizens and Leaders
Oct 18, 2026
In the latest episode of the Civic Futures season on How We Future, I sit down with two good friends and visionaries in the sports-meets-civic space: Coach Eric Reveno (Men’s Basketball Coach at Brown University) and Coach Joe Kennedy (Co-founder of The Team).
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When we think about building a stronger democracy, we often think of town halls, voting booths, or policy debates. But, as Coach Rev and Joe share, some of the most powerful training grounds for citizenship are found in locker rooms and on playing fields across the country.
Following our HWF Civic Futures kickoff last week with Eric Liu, our design partners at Public/Official have created a unique visual to capture the “civic scaffolding” spirit of this conversation.
Rev, Joe, and I started working together back in 2020, shortly after they launched a movement to infuse civic engagement into college athletics called “All Vote No Play.” See the full origin story here, which I affectionately called “The NCAA is having a Ted Lasso Moment.”
As a futurist and former student-athlete, I immediately recognized the immense leverage point student-athletes could have on their campuses. They are often culture-carriers who can have ripple effects on the larger community, including alumni and fans. When they step up as trusted messengers of what “civic sportsmanship” can look like beyond their sport, they can have outsized positive impact on their communities. And, having connection and purpose beyond the pressure to perform is also beneficial for the athletes and the team. Being proactively focused on creating positive value is a win for everyone - what I call “optimistic offense.”
Working together, we turned All Vote No Play into The Team—a nonpartisan nonprofit dedicated to integrating civic and community engagement into college athletics. In the last few years, our programs and resources have reached hundreds of thousands of student-athletes across the country.
In a time that feels overwhelmingly divided, sports can break down political and social silos by giving us a place to experience collective joy. Spend any time talking to a Golden State WNBA Valkyries fan dressed in violet, and they’ll tell you that going to a game is nothing short of a magical collective experience.
This isn’t just good sentiment, it’s backed by ongoing research programs like Harvard Kennedy School’s Ash Center for Democratic Governance and Innovation work on Sports and Civic Participation and More in Common’s report on Politics and the Power of Sports.
Lisa, Coaches Rev and Matt Elkin, and former Stanford Men’s Basketball star Maxime Raynaud at Stanford’s “All Vote No Play” Democracy Day, 2025
What Can Athletics Teach Us About Being a Citizen?
In this episode, Rev, Joe, and I unpack how the fundamentals of team sports map directly onto the health of our democracy:
- Being a great teammate is a civic practice. Learning how to communicate across differences, trust the person next to you, and work toward a shared goal is the foundation of local civic health.
- Civic engagement doesn’t have to be formal to be powerful. Sometimes the most accessible entry point is as simple as a tailgate, free pizza, and a high-stakes game of rock, paper, scissors to get people talking.
- Recognizing “Unseen” Helpers: Teams run drills where athletes reflect on how trainers, custodians, medical staff, and referees make their success possible—building a habit of community gratitude and local awareness.
- Running “Civic Drills”: Engagement doesn’t have to feel preachy or boring. Campuses use tailgate gatherings, “Votesgiving” breakfasts, and competitive games of rock, paper, scissors to start real conversations about community impact.
- Focus on the “next play.” In sports and in civic life, when you don’t know exactly what to do next, you don’t stall out. You try something, learn from it, and execute the next play.
Featured Resources & Playbooks
Ready to bring these tools to your own campus, team, or community group? Check out the key initiatives mentioned in this episode:
- The Team’s Voter Captain Guide & Toolkits — Nonpartisan playbooks for student-athletes, coaches, and peer leaders to build a culture of voter participation.
- The Engaged Athlete Fellowship — Empowering student-athletes with leadership training to drive civic action on their campuses.
- Support The Team’s Virtual All Star Meeting — The national “civic tailgating” event that brings together college athletes, coaches, and administrators for an inspiring conversation with champions of social impact in and around sports.
Your Call to Action
I’ll leave you with a quick invitation inspired by our conversation:
Think about where you already have a team—whether that’s a sport, your workplace, a neighborhood group, or a family network. Think about what skills you bring to that huddle. Now ask yourself: Where can I bring those team-building skills to strengthen my broader community?
Listen to the full episode below, grab the guides at TheTeam.org, and drop a comment letting me know what “next play” you’re running in your community!
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Playing Optimistic Offense: Developing Teammates, Citizens and Leaders was first published by "How We Future," and is republished with permission.
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Americans Have More in Common Than We Think. That’s Not Enough.
Oct 17, 2026
Americans have more in common than our political conversation suggests.
That is the encouraging conclusion of political scientists Stephen Ansolabehere and Brian Schaffner, writing recently in The New York Times. Their evidence comes from two decades of surveys of more than 700,000 Americans.
Asked to name the most important thing that happened to them in the past year, Trump voters and Harris voters gave the same three answers in the same order: a medical problem, household finances and the death of someone close. They are often more similar demographically than we imagine. And when Ansolabehere and Schaffner asked voters about 44 policy proposals, the average Harris voter and the average Trump voter agreed roughly half the time.
The authors attribute our misperceptions to politicians, the news media and social media algorithms. Close that perception gap entirely and a harder question remains: If Americans have so much in common, why does our politics feel as if everything is at stake in every election? With the midterms seven weeks away, that question deserves an answer.
The problem isn’t that Americans have too little in common. It’s that our political system requires them to agree about too much.
Start with those 44 policy questions. Agreement on half sounds reassuring. But political disagreements are not fungible. Two voters can agree on background checks for gun sales, more border security and expanding Medicaid, as large majorities of Harris and Trump voters do.
But suppose one believes that displaying the Ten Commandments in a public school appropriately acknowledges America’s religious heritage, while the other believes it is government imposing religion on their child. Or one believes abortion is the taking of a human life, while the other believes forcing a woman to continue a pregnancy violates a fundamental right. Or one sees broad gun ownership as an essential constitutional liberty, while the other sees restrictions on guns as essential to protecting children and communities.
The authors note that the remaining disagreements cluster on hot-button issues: immigration, assault rifles and abortion. They suggest that differing priorities should make compromise easier. Give ground on what you care about less. Win on what you care about more.
That is how people bargain over tax rates and highway spending. It is not how they handle questions of morality, identity or fundamental rights. No one will trade what they consider a human life, or a fundamental right, for a lower deficit. Those disagreements cannot be measured by counting them.
And our political system does not weigh every agreement and disagreement equally. It filters them.
Look at what the campaigns talked about in 2024. The Wesleyan Media Project found that through late August, two of every five pro-Democratic ads in House races mentioned abortion. More than 60 percent of pro-Republican House ads mentioned immigration.
Those choices make political sense. Campaigns talk about the issues that make people vote, donate and volunteer. Then another force kicks in: The people who care most intensely about politics have disproportionate influence over it.
In its 2014 study of political polarization, the Pew Research Center found that the most ideologically consistent Americans made up 21 percent of the public but 41 percent of campaign donors.
That creates a powerful feedback loop. The issues on which Americans disagree most intensely motivate the people most engaged in politics. Those people exert disproportionate influence on candidates and parties. Candidates and parties emphasize those disagreements to mobilize voters. And national elections determine which side gets the power to impose its answer on everyone.
Politics isn’t an average of everything Americans believe. It is disproportionately a contest over the things they cannot agree about.
And similarity is not the same as trust. Americans can share families, occupations and concerns and still distrust one another. According to a 2025 Pew analysis of the General Social Survey, 46 percent of Americans said in 1972 that most people could be trusted. By 2018, that figure was 34 percent. Pew’s own recent survey found the same.
That matters when losing an election means handing people you distrust enormous power over questions you consider fundamental.
Our response has been to try to change how Americans behave. “Listen to one another.” “Stop demonizing the other side.” “Get off social media.” “Find common ground.” “Elect better leaders.”
Those efforts are worthwhile. They also leave untouched the political structure that intensifies the conflict.
Imagine two people who disagree profoundly about religion, abortion, guns, immigration, education and the role of government. Give them one enormous institution and tell them to fight every four years over who runs it.
We should not be surprised when the fight gets ugly.
So we are asking the wrong question. Instead of asking how to make 340 million Americans agree about more things, we should ask how many things 340 million Americans actually need to agree on to live together as one people.
One answer is to substantially decentralize American political power by reorganizing the United States into an American Union. It would consist of two sovereign democratic republics — one predominantly red and one predominantly blue — while retaining the institutions Americans have powerful reasons to preserve together: common defense, a common currency, an integrated market, freedom of movement and our shared inheritance.
Two modern constitutions — one reflecting predominantly red preferences, the other predominantly blue — would be drafted and presented to voters, with states ultimately choosing whether to join either constitutional system and, if so, which one.
Such a reordering would not create two populations of people who think alike — nor should it. Both republics would contain substantial political minorities, competing parties and shifting coalitions. But each would be more politically cohesive than the nation is today and better able to resolve the questions that now divide Americans most intensely.
An American Union would not require us to give up on the idea that Americans are one people. It would begin with the recognition that being one people does not require being governed identically.
For more than two centuries, we have accepted that principle through federalism. Massachusetts and Mississippi do not have to make every policy choice the same way. But today the questions that most bitterly divide us have become national ones, and presidential elections decide who wields enormous federal power over the entire country.
An American Union would change those stakes. Neither side would need to capture Washington to stop the other from imposing policies it considers intolerable. Each republic would govern itself, while both preserve the institutions and relationships Americans continue to share.
And here is the paradox. Evidence that Americans have more in common than we think is usually offered as a reason to leave our political structure alone. It is better evidence for an American Union.
If Americans were truly two hostile peoples with nothing in common, preserving a union between them would make little sense. But that is not who we are.
We work together. We marry one another. We worship together. We attend the same schools and universities. We buy and sell to one another. We watch the same movies, listen to the same music and worry about our children, our parents, our health and our bank accounts.
Those are powerful reasons to remain part of something called America. But they are not reasons to require that every important political question have the same answer for everyone.
Ansolabehere and Schaffner end their essay with Patrick Henry’s declaration in 1774: “I am not a Virginian, but an American.” Fourteen years later, the same Patrick Henry led the fight in Virginia against ratifying the Constitution, warning that it would create a consolidated national government.
Two hundred fifty years after the Declaration of Independence, we assume that being one American people requires us to settle our deepest political disagreements through one national government. It doesn’t.
We do not have to govern one another on everything to remain one people.
Governing one another on fewer things is how we stay one.
Jordan Karp is a lawyer and writer based in New York with a keen interest in American political culture, institutional reform, and civic life.
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The $5,000 Question — Campaign Promise or Something Congress Should Worry About?
Oct 17, 2026
President Trump's newest promise to the American electorate carries a familiar shape and an unfamiliar price tag. At the Republican Party's midterm convention in Dallas on September 9, he pledged that if Republicans hold the House and Senate in November, "I will issue a dividend to every adult citizen in the United States of America for $5,000." He compared it to a company distributing cash to shareholders. Vice President JD Vance followed up on Fox News, describing it as "fundamentally a dividend for American workers" funded by tariff revenue.
The pledge is explicit, the timing is deliberate, and the arithmetic does not hold up.
Start with the cost. The Census Bureau counts roughly 245 to 270 million American adult citizens, depending on how the eligibility is drawn. At $5,000 each, the payout runs between $1.2 and $1.35 trillion — a single line item larger than the discretionary budgets of most federal agencies combined. The president says the country can "easily handle" it because of the revenue tariffs are bringing in. The numbers say otherwise. The Bipartisan Policy Center puts total 2026 tariff and excise collections at roughly $210 billion. Even if every dollar of that revenue were diverted to the dividend, it would cover less than a fifth of the bill.
This is not the first time the math has failed to convey what the rhetoric promised. A year ago, Trump pledged a "$2,000 tariff dividend" to most Americans. It never arrived. Before that came a mooted "DOGE dividend" drawn from federal spending cuts that were themselves never fully realized. Congress never authorized either payment, and neither the Treasury Department nor the White House has articulated a legal mechanism for sending checks without an appropriation. Asked directly whether it has authority to pay dividends from tariff revenue absent congressional action, Treasury has not responded.
The fiscal problem is compounded by a legal one the administration has already lost. In February, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 in Learning Resources v. Trump that the International Emergency Economic Powers Act does not authorize the president to impose tariffs at all. The decision struck down the reciprocal and trafficking tariffs that made up the bulk of the administration's trade agenda and left the government facing potential refund claims running into the billions. The funding stream Vance pointed to as the source of the $5,000 dividend is, in substantial part, the same funding stream the nation's highest court has already found unlawful. Whatever revenue survives under the administration's remaining tariff authorities is smaller, less certain, and nowhere close to $1.2 trillion.
Then there is the political question that has drawn less attention than it deserves: does conditioning a $5,000 government payment on the outcome of a federal election amount to vote-buying? Federal law bars offering or accepting anything of value in exchange for a vote. But Trump's pledge is not structured as a per-vote payment to individuals in exchange for how they cast a ballot; it is framed as a policy outcome contingent on which party controls Congress, a rhetorical device candidates have used for generations when promising what they will do "if elected." Legal scholars are largely skeptical that the framing crosses the line into a prosecutable offense, however transactional it may sound. The more pressing issue is not whether the promise is illegal. It is whether it is feasible, and whether Congress should treat it as a serious proposal or campaign theater.
That is where lawmakers have, so far, been conspicuously quiet. Senator Josh Hawley introduced the American Worker Rebate Act over a year ago to authorize tariff-funded rebates; it has sat in the Finance Committee since, without a single cosponsor and without a hearing. A competing bill from Senator Martin Heinrich has fared no better. Senator Bernie Moreno has said he will draft legislation to formalize the "Trump Dividend" after the midterms — a pledge to legislate a pledge, made before the votes that would determine whether Republicans even hold the majority needed to pass it.
None of this means the idea is dead on arrival as a talking point. It is a coherent piece of midterm messaging: a concrete number, an emotionally resonant comparison to a shareholder dividend, and a deadline that rewards turnout. But a promise repeated for the third time in two years, with no legislative vehicle, no identified funding source, and a legal foundation the Supreme Court has already dismantled, is not a policy proposal. It is a conditional IOU.
Congress does not need to adjudicate whether the pledge constitutes vote-buying under federal law. That is a narrow legal question with a fairly predictable answer. The more consequent question is whether members of either party are prepared to hold hearings on how — or whether — $1.2 trillion in payments to American adults would actually be funded, given that the administration's own tariff authority has been struck down and no appropriation exists. If the answer is that no such mechanism is being seriously developed, voters deserve to know that before November, not after the payments fail to materialize a third time.
Jose Navarro is the Founder of The Navarro Report, an independent publication delivering nonpartisan, fact-based coverage — tracking government spending, fiscal mismanagement, and the policy decisions that affect everyday readers, without political bias.
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U.S. Sen. Ted Cruz (R-TX) on September 29, 2026 in Washington, DC.
(Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)
Keep Politicians, Not Politics Out Of Sports: Let Athletes Speak
Oct 17, 2026
Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas), who built his political brand in part by arguing that politics had no place in sports during the Black Lives Matter protests, recently went on ESPN College GameDay to promote his bipartisan Protect College Sports Act, a bill that eventually cleared the Senate by a 77-22 vote and is headed to the House come November.
Cruz’ appearance didn’t go as planned, with the crowd greeting him with a chorus of boos and dealing him a devastating blow in his own home state. Beneath the surface, Cruz’s sting at College GameDay reflects a new trend in MAGA’s political playbook: using sport to advance legislation that hurts the constituents it claims to protect.
Ties to the political arena are not entirely new in sports broadcasts. For example, ESPN showed former President Barack Obama’s enthusiastic greeting of fans during a 2019 match of men’s basketball rivals Duke University and University of North Carolina.
On the other end of the political spectrum, 2012 Republican candidate for the U.S. Senate Craig James was a GameDay personality before (unsuccessfully) entering the political arena.
But what is so striking about Cruz’s appearance on GameDay ahead of the University of Texas at Austin’s show-off against Ohio State earlier this fall, however, is not the appearance of a political figure such as Cruz on the sports show.
It is the fact that his appearance on one of ESPN’s most prominent college sports platforms served the sole purpose of promoting a piece of federal legislation.
The timing of Cruz’s shameless lobbying attempt on ESPN is no coincidence. With the midterms looming on the horizon, the Texas Republican party is becoming increasingly vulnerable when it comes to holding onto power.
In the Texas primaries held earlier this year, Democratic turnout outpaced that of Republicans for the first time since 2020. In February, a Democratic candidate won a special election to serve in the Texas state senate by a margin of 14 percent – a double-digit win some have described as a “wake-up call” for Republicans.
Amid declining national approval ratings, the GOP held its national midterm convention in Dallas, a spectacle appearing to be a rescue mission for the party.
With Democratic momentum growing, it is not surprising that the party once fighting to the nail to keep politics out of sports for the sake of “unity” has now discovered that, perhaps, sport is not so apolitical after all.
Research by sport scholars has, of course, shown that there is no such thing as apolitical sport and that sport. Quite to the contrary, sport is often used to advance political goals.
In one of my research studies, my co-authors and I have shown how supposedly “neutral” policies prohibiting political protests in sport draw from the myth of neutrality to suppress athletes calling attention to social issues and challenging an unjust status quo.
In the MAGA world where hypocrisy runs as deep as the roots of Longhorn football in Austin, the spectacle of big-time sports now presents a fruitful arena for Republican opportunism.
President Donald Trump has spent years cultivating that arena to push his political agenda, from his appearances at UFC events, college football games, and the FIFA World Cup this past summer to turning the historic White House lawn into the hosting site for a UFC fight card. Now other MAGA Republicans like Cruz are taking notice.
Some may argue that a media platform like ESPN’s College GameDay is the perfect place to talk about legislation affecting college athletes. At first sight, that argument seems reasonable: GameDay reaches precisely the audience that has a stake in the future of college sports.
But Cruz’s appearance was not simply an effort to inform college sports fans about a piece of legislation. It was a calculated political pitch delivered on one of the most influential stages in college sports, using the emotional pull of a cultural institution to advance his political agenda.
But there is more that lurks beneath the surface when it comes to Cruz’s appearance on the ESPN broadcast. The piece of legislation he is promoting, the Protect College Sports Act of 2026, seeks to give greater regulatory power to the NCAA and its major conference, which could in turn limit college athletes’ power in advocating for more just labor relations.
Labor advocates such as the AFL-CIO, in particular, raised alarm bells that the Trump-backed bill can potentially weaken athletes’ bargaining power.
Similarly, the Congressional Black Caucus has issued a scathing statement opposing the act, describing it as falling short of “providing Black athletes with the rights, representation, economic opportunities, and meaningful safeguards they deserve, while also failing to adequately recognize the interests of Black coaches, Black agents, HBCUs, and other professionals whose futures will be shaped by this legislation.”
Given the legislation Cruz is advocating may ultimately be hurting the constituents it seeks to protect, voters seem to look right through the senator’s playbook. The crowd’s response in Austin was, perhaps, the clearest indicator that the audience recognized the political calculation behind Cruz’s stunt.
A striking parallel between college football and politics is that there must ultimately be winners and losers. Historically, athletes from marginalized communities, and Black athletes in particular, have scored important wins when it comes to social justice reform.
Their work has shown that politics, not politicians, belong in sport.
Come November, voters must ask themselves whether they want politicians like Cruz to exploit the power of sport to advance their own political agenda – or whether the political torch should once again be placed in the hands of those who most benefit from a shift in power: the athletes themselves.
Yannick Kluch, Ph.D., is an associate professor of sport management at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. He is a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project and the University of Illinois system.
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