Every democracy depends on a certain level of trust among its citizens and in its key institutions of government, business and civil society. We clearly have work to do, according to new research.
More in Common, a nonprofit that works to end polarization, released "Two Stories of Distrust in America" on Monday. The report catalogues across-the-board distrust and identifies ways to restore faith in institutions and each other. With more than 10,000 people participating via surveys, long-term study and dialogue, it's a comprehensive view of why trust is missing with institutions and among people.
The report breaks the issue down into two parts: "an ideological 'us versus them' distrust and a 'social distrust' that tracks interactions and feelings of belonging, dignity, and equality."
The top-level ideological data shows a remarkable lack of faith in core institutions. Only 11 percent of Americans believe the federal government or corporations are honest (conservatives are slightly more positive about corporations). The national media scores better — 22 percent overall — with liberals and progressives sharing a much more positive opinion than moderates and conservatives.
There have been dramatic swings in Americans' confidence that the government will do what is right for the country. In March 2021, 50 percent said they are confident, up 11 points from June 2020. But that data point belies a huge partisan divide. Confidence among Republicans dropped 29 points while raising 50 points among Democrats. (There was virtually no movement among independents).
The More in Common survey also found that a lack of trust in other people has continued to steadily decline. Four in 10 Americans said "Most people can be trusted" but 61 percent said "You can't be too careful in dealing with people." The National Opinion Research Council has been asking whether most people can be trusted for decades, and positive responses haven't cracked 40 percent since the mid 1980s.
"Without a baseline of trust in key institutions and in each other, we cannot solve collective problems or advance changes that benefit all sectors of society," reads the report." In high-trust societies, people are able to organize more quickly, initiate action, and sacrifice for the common good. High trust societies have lower economic inequality and growing economies, lower rates of corruption, and a more civically engaged population."
There are also significant feelings of a lack of belonging across ideology, age and race. Overall, 34 percent of Americans say they do not feel a sense of belonging in any community.
Additional takeaways from the 50-page report include:
- Disgust is more prevalent than anger, which is the path to dehumanization of each other.
- Exposure to people different from ourselves, in settings where we share an overlapping identity is critical. For example, parents share an identity that is not based on ideology. Positive interactions on non-risky identities leads to more tolerance overall.
- Participation in civic life increases our sense of belonging, which increases trust. Participation (or lack of) is both a cause and a cure for distrust.
- The easiest place to start is local, in our neighborhoods and communities where we can see the impact of our involvement.
- Communication from elected officials and leaders needs to be thorough, with clear acknowledgement of the impact when people participate. Let people know they've made a difference.
Building trust will be among the most important societal design challenges for the 21st century.
"Efforts from government leaders to promote bipartisanship and to restore Americans' confidence in the institutions of democracy should be complemented by strategies and programs for building social trust within and across communities, groups, and people," reads the report. "A comprehensive strategy to build trust would catalyze a virtuous cycle wherein efforts to reduce ideological and social distrust reinforce and accelerate one another."




















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.”
____
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.