Politicians are skilled communicators, often employing rhetoric that resonates with their constituents' emotions and values. This ability to engage the public can lead to a heightened focus on personalities rather than policies. For instance, sensational statements or controversial behavior can dominate the news cycle, distracting us from substantive discussions about critical issues such as healthcare, education, or climate change.
“Republicans create a lot of distractions, and Democrats get distracted,” observed Democratic strategist James Carville in Carville: Winning Is Everything, Stupid!, a 2024 documentary about his life.
Carville recently warned Democrats about getting distracted in an interview on News Nation, “So he (Donald Trump) says Greenland, Panama Canal, Canada, the Gulf of America or whatever insane stuff he says, and we shouldn’t get distracted by that. “Your No. 1 thing was you were going to do something about high grocery prices.”
Trump made food prices a central campaign issue. At a September rally, he said, “We have to get them down,” reports the HuffPost. A month later, he promised the same thing at another rally: “We will cut your taxes and inflation” and “slash your prices.”
However, he reneged after winning the election, saying, “It’s hard to bring things down once they’re up.”
I draw inspiration from Carville, who famously coined the phrase, “It’s the economy, stupid!” in Bill Clinton's successful 1992 U.S. presidential election against incumbent George H. W. Bush, when I tell you, “Don’t get distracted, stupid!”
The art of distraction has always been one of Trump's most successful strategies. In 2019, Brian L. Ott, who spent two years studying President Trump’s rhetoric, particularly his use of Twitter (now X), found that Trump's posts typically served one of three purposes: dissembling, distracting, and discrediting. “Collectively, these three strategies make the president a master of misdirection,” Ott wrote in his column on Newsweek. “Quite simply, no president in the modern era has been more successful at shaping and manipulating the news cycle than Donald Trump.”
Then there’s Trump’s scapegoating, as demonstrated last week in a live briefing regarding the deadly American Airlines collision with a U.S. Army Black Hawk helicopterover Washington, D.C.
"FAA's diversity push includes focus on hiring people with severe intellectual and psychiatric disabilities," the president said. "And then it says, FAA says people with severe disabilities are most underrepresented segment of the workforce. And they want 'em in, and they want them. They can be air traffic controllers. I don't think so."
President Trump expressed his opposition to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives introduced during the Biden administration, including the Federal Aviation Administration's current hiring policies.
"FAA is actively recruiting workers who suffer severe intellectual disabilities, psychiatric problems, and other mental and physical conditions under a diversity and inclusion hiring initiatives spelled out on the agency's website," Trump said.
When pressed on his baseless claim of DEI as a cause of the crash, Trump said: “It just could have been.” And when asked how he could so quickly decide diversity was to blame, he said: “Because I have common sense, OK, and unfortunately, a lot of people don’t.”
The plane crash in Washington, D.C., is the most recent disaster for which he and his allies have blamed DEI, even though the facts don’t support them.
This month, as wildfires swept through the hills of Los Angeles, some right-leaning commentators attributed the crisis to DEI initiatives, particularly in light of Mayor Karen Bass being the city's first female and second Black leader and Fire Chief Kristin Crowley being the first woman and openly queer individual to head the department.
Following the violent attack during New Year’s Day celebrations in New Orleans, GOP Rep. Dan Meuser remarked on Fox News that the focus of the past four years has been on DEI rather than public safety concerns, citing conversations with those within relevant agencies.
After a shipping vessel collided with Baltimore’s Key Bridge in March 2024, a gubernatorial candidate from Utah criticized "governors who prioritize diversity" despite the vessel reportedly having maintenance issues. This incident also sparked a wave of racist comments directed at Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott, who, along with Maryland Governor Wes Moore, is a Black Democrat.
Former President Trump's 2016 campaign began with controversial statements about Mexican immigrants, and he has continued to face criticism for his remarks about various minority groups. While Trump and his supporters argue that their opposition to DEI initiatives is rooted in a commitment to fairness and merit, the ongoing discourse raises questions about the implications of their rhetoric regarding people of color within the broader context of the Trump movement.
Media’s Misstep In Disseminating One-Dimensional Narratives
In the age of rapid information dissemination, the role of news media in shaping public understanding of government has never been more critical. However, many commercial news outlets don’t adequately prioritize the issues that matter most to the electorate when covering elected officials.
Legacy media often prioritize stories that attract viewership or readership, which can lead to an emphasis on sensational political events over in-depth analyses of policy implications. This cycle perpetuates a focus on political drama rather than constructive dialogue about governance. As a result, audiences may find themselves more engaged in the latest political scandal than in understanding the complexities of legislative processes.
Social media has transformed the way political information is disseminated and consumed. Platforms like X and Facebook allow for rapid sharing of news and opinions, often leading to a focus on sound bites and viral moments. Politicians can leverage these platforms to create narratives that capture public attention, sometimes at the expense of more nuanced discussions. The immediacy of social media can create a culture of distraction, where users are more likely to react to sensational content rather than engage in thoughtful discourse.
Politicians, Republicans, and Democrats alike are very savvy about how to manipulate media to their advantage.
Nothing Up My Sleeve
As Ott wrote, “Misdirection is, of course, the basis of magic or illusion. The magician draws the audience's attention to something insignificant so that they do not notice the significant thing that is happening right before their eyes—the thing that would destroy the illusion. As a master of misdirection, Donald Trump is exceedingly good at shifting our attention away from things that matter.”
So, don’t get distracted by executive orders to “build more wall” on the southern border, and pay attention to a reinterpretation of the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. It would end “birthright citizenship.”
Don’t get distracted by Trump Referring to oil and gas as “liquid gold,” the president claimed that maximizing their production will be key to making the US a “rich nation again.” The United States is already the largest oil and gas producer in the world. Pay attention to the fact that last year, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration reported that 27 extreme weather events exacerbated by these emissions resulted in nearly $183 billion in damages.
Don’t get distracted by the president signing an executive order putting an end to all federal DEI initiatives, calling them “illegal,” “immoral,” and “discriminatory.” Pay attention to how these orders indicate a potential shift away from efforts aimed at promoting diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility, possibly leading to the establishment of new barriers to opportunity.
The tendency to be distracted by politicians has significant implications for public discourse. When attention is diverted to personalities and sensationalism, critical issues may go unaddressed. This can lead to a disengaged electorate, where citizens feel disillusioned or apathetic about political processes. Moreover, the lack of informed debate on essential issues can hinder effective governance and the development of policies that genuinely address societal challenges.
By fostering a more informed and engaged citizenry, our society can move towards a more productive and meaningful dialogue about the challenges we face.
SUGGESTION: Advance DEI, do not retreat from it
Fulcrum co-publishers David Nevins and Kristina Becvar and executive editor Hugo Balta discussed the challenges and opportunities of diversity, equity, and inclusion.
DEI is worth saving if programs focus on expanding advantages
Nora Carol Photography/Getty Images
. Hugo Balta is the executive editor of the Fulcrum and a board member of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund, the parent organization of The Fulcrum. He is the publisher of the Latino News Network and a trainer with the Solutions Journalism Network.
A deep look at how "All in the Family" remains a striking mirror of American politics, class tensions, and cultural manipulation—proving its relevance decades later.
All in This American Family
There are a few shows that have aged as eerily well as All in the Family.
It’s not just that it’s still funny and has the feel not of a sit-com, but of unpretentious, working-class theatre. It’s that, decades later, it remains one of the clearest windows into the American psyche. Archie Bunker’s living room has been, as it were, a small stage on which the country has been working through the same contradictions, anxieties, and unresolved traumas that still shape our politics today. The manipulation of the working class, the pitting of neighbor against neighbor, the scapegoating of the vulnerable, the quiet cruelties baked into everyday life—all of it is still here with us. We like to reassure ourselves that we’ve progressed since the early 1970s, but watching the show now forces an unsettling recognition: The structural forces that shaped Archie’s world have barely budged. The same tactics of distraction and division deployed by elites back then are still deployed now, except more efficiently, more sleekly.
Archie himself is the perfect vessel for this continuity. He is bigoted, blustery, reactive, but he is also wounded, anxious, and constantly misled by forces above and beyond him. Norman Lear created Archie not as a monster to be hated (Lear’s genius was to make Archie lovable despite his loathsome stands), but as a man trapped by the political economy of his era: A union worker who feels his country slipping away, yet cannot see the hands that are actually moving it. His anger leaks sideways, onto immigrants, women, “hippies,” and anyone with less power than he has. The real villains—the wealthy, the connected, the manufacturers of grievance—remain safely and comfortably offscreen. That’s part of the show’s key insight: It reveals how elites thrive by making sure working people turn their frustrations against each other rather than upward.
Edith, often dismissed as naive or scatterbrained, functions as the show’s quiet moral center. Her compassion exposes the emotional void in Archie’s worldview and, in doing so, highlights the costs of the divisions that powerful interests cultivate. Meanwhile, Mike the “Meathead” represents a generation trying to break free from those divisions but often trapped in its own loud self-righteousness. Their clashes are not just family arguments but collisions between competing visions of America’s future. And those visions, tellingly, have yet to resolve themselves.
The political context of the show only sharpens its relevance. Premiering in 1971, All in the Family emerged during the Nixon years, when the “Silent Majority” strategy was weaponizing racial resentment, cultural panic, and working-class anxiety to cement power. Archie was a fictional embodiment of the very demographic Nixon sought to mobilize and manipulate. The show exposed, often bluntly, how economic insecurity was being rerouted into cultural hostility. Watching the show today, it’s impossible to miss how closely that logic mirrors the present, from right-wing media ecosystems to politicians who openly rely on stoking grievances rather than addressing root causes.
What makes the show unsettling today is that its satire feels less like a relic and more like a mirror. The demagogic impulses it spotlighted have simply found new platforms. The working-class anger it dramatized has been harvested by political operatives who, like their 1970s predecessors, depend on division to maintain power. The very cultural debates that fueled Archie’s tirades — about immigration, gender roles, race, and national identity—are still being used as tools to distract from wealth concentration and political manipulation.
If anything, the divisions are sharper now because the mechanisms of manipulation are more sophisticated, for much has been learned by The Machine. The same emotional raw material Lear mined for comedy is now algorithmically optimized for outrage. The same social fractures that played out around Archie’s kitchen table now play out on a scale he couldn’t have imagined. But the underlying dynamics haven’t changed at all.
That is why All in the Family feels so contemporary. The country Lear dissected never healed or meaningfully evolved: It simply changed wardrobe. The tensions, prejudices, and insecurities remain, not because individuals failed to grow but because the economic and political forces that thrive on division have only become more entrenched. Until we confront the political economy that kept Archie and Michael locked in an endless loop of circular bickering, the show will remain painfully relevant for another fifty years.
Ahmed Bouzid is the co-founder of The True Representation Movement.