Thoughts on our horrendous loss, the long days since, and the days to come.
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It’s been just two weeks, but it feels like an eternity.
It feels like an eternity because of the immensity of the loss — not just the loss of the election but the seeming loss of America. Not just America, but the apparent loss of the world as we knew it.
In reality, we lost by a relatively small number of votes, but in our winner-take-all system of government, that doesn’t much matter. We lost.
Two weeks in, and the magnitude of the loss may be hitting you differently than it did on the night of November 5.
It has been coming to me in the early morning, just as dawn is breaking and I’m starting to awaken. It has been coming to me in the form of dread.
What exactly do I dread? Trump, and all the anger he has exploited. Trump, and all the people he has manipulated. Trump, and all the power he will have to do atrocious things. Trump, and all the dreadful people he is surrounding himself with or is seeking to appoint. Trump, and his use of the military on hardworking people in my community.
Some of you probably awaken as I do.
Alternatively, some of you are using coping mechanisms — not reading the paper or listening to the news, or giving up on politics, or relying on music or poetry or the beauty of nature to blot out what is occurring.
I get it.
However you might be coping with the loss and the shock, it’s very important that you know what they’re trying to do.
What they want most is to take away our hope.
If they can make us hopeless, they win everything. If they can abscond with our hope, we will stop fighting for a more just society, stop defending those who are most vulnerable to them, stop protecting what’s left of our democracy.
If they can destroy our hope, we won’t join together to try to stop them. They will win everything. They will get it all.
I understand if at this point, two weeks after a grievous election, you feel depressed. Dispossessed. Empty. Angry.
I understand if you feel the grief of losing what should never have been lost.
I understand if you feel the gross, mind-numbing unfairness of a system that rewards horrendous lies backed by big money.
I share all these feelings.
Some of you ask: Even if I had a shred of hopeful energy remaining inside me, what would I do? Trump has it all — the entire executive branch of government, which he wants run by dangerous people who will do whatever he wants. He has both chambers of Congress. He’s got an election-denying Republican Party purged of people with integrity. He’s got a pliable Supreme Court.
Given all this, many of you feel powerless. You ask: As a practical matter, what can I do?
First and perhaps most importantly, connect and reconnect with people who share our values — who want a decent society, who reject bigotry, who treat people equally and respectfully, who seek social justice, and who keep in mind the common good. All of us need the support and reassurance that come with connection to these kindred souls.
Don’t be an election-only activist. Practice your activism. Meet regularly, in person or online. Hear each other’s stories. Listen to the grieving of others. Know you’re not alone in this.
Second, sketch a plan for your activism. You don’t need to put it into effect right away, but have it ready. Work with others to organize and mobilize.
Maybe it involves protecting people in your community who are most vulnerable to Trump’s dragnet. Or people who are (or will be) on Trump’s enemies list. Or women and girls of childbearing age who will need help, advice, encouragement, and resources if they’re to exercise their rights over their own bodies.
Maybe it involves establishing new and more reliable sources of news and analysis, and sharing those sources with others.
Maybe it involves boycotting X, or companies that advertise on X or on Fox News. Or other products and services generated by billionaires who supported Trump.
Or cutting back on buying things you don’t need and putting your money into the work of groups advancing the common good.
And joining such groups. Starting chapters in your community. Getting others involved.
Third, pace yourself. Don’t try to do it all immediately. The fight we’re engaged in will not be won anytime soon. There are likely to be elections next November in your community and state. The next major federal engagement will be the midterm elections of 2026.
Don’t expect clear and decisive victories. We are up against forces that use bigotry and lies to entrench their power. It will take time, patience, and tenacity to change course.
Fourth, avoid the blame game. There’s nothing to be gained by picking on Biden or on Harris or on Democrats in general or on this or that identity group.
But an accurate explanation for what has occurred can be a precursor to making necessary changes.
An explanation is not a justification. To my mind, there is no moral justification for electing Trump, although I think I understand why people voted for him.
At the most basic level, they voted for him because for many decades they have not benefited from the fruits of their hard work. The median wage of the bottom 90 percent buys less today than it did 40 years ago. For decades, most of the gains have gone to the top.
Grotesque inequalities of income, wealth, opportunity, and power have caused most Americans to feel angry, surly, cynical, and ready to take a wrecking ball to the whole system.
But Trump’s wrecking ball will only hurt most Americans and further enrich oligarchs like himself. We must help people understand this.
Fifth, please be kind to yourself. You are not alone, and you’re not crazy. You will have bad days.
Many of us are still in shock. Many are experiencing a kind of trauma. Sometimes these sorts of shocks and traumas dredge up shocks and traumas from our past.
Get plenty of rest. Read a good novel. Watch a good streaming series. Find things to laugh at — and share laughter with others.
Most of all — even if you don’t feel it now at all — don’t lose hope.
Find green shoots of hope wherever you can.
Some people, some communities, and even some states, continue to do great things. Celebrate them.
Others are doing small but important things. Thank them.
Others are doing courageous things. Appreciate them.
Keep hope strong. Keep hope alive. Don’t let them take it away.
We are together in this.
Reprinted with permission from Robert Reich’s substack.
Robert B. Reich is the Carmel P. Friesen Professor of Public Policy at the Goldman School of Public Policy at the University of California, Berkeley. He has served in three national administrations, including as secretary of labor under President Bill Clinton. He has written eighteen books, including the bestsellers The System: Who Rigged It, How We Fix It; The Common Good; Saving Capitalism; Aftershock; Supercapitalism; and The Work of Nations.
