What is giving you hope right now for the future of our society?

That’s the second question we posed to our circle of scholars, writers, and thinkers in the aftermath of the 2024 United States election. (The first question asked where we can go from here, and we published those answers yesterday.) Some find hope in potential common ground, others in their own communities and in points of resistance to the new president’s agenda. While not all those answers will resonate for you, our own hope is that they will spur you to look inside and ask yourself: What gives me the feeling that better things can come of this moment?

Annalee Newitz: Joy is a form of resistance

By 8 p.m. on election night, the backyard I share with my housemates was full of nerds and writers and artists and weirdos (complimentary) and engineers and archivists, plus some slightly feral teenagers who decided to make everyone meringues and walk around serving them as if our humble little gathering were a soiree at a museum. Instead of spending the night doomscrolling, I had decided to invite friends over to hang out and eat pizza.

This seemingly frivolous choice was based in part on research I’ve done over the past four years while I wrote Stories Are Weapons: Psychological Warfare and the American Mind.

As adrienne maree brown argues in Pleasure Activism, sometimes joy is the greatest form of resistance. It’s also one way to cut through the violent manipulation of propaganda and form genuine relationships with each other.

Researchers who study disinformation online often refer to a strategy called “coordinated inauthentic behavior,” where a group of operatives—or one operative with a lot of bots—amplify lies across social platforms. The goal is to create the illusion of consensus, as if there is a whole chorus of people who agree that, say, trans people are “groomers,” or America’s history of slavery no longer matters in the present.

When I interviewed Alex Stamos, former head of the Stanford Internet Observatory, we talked a lot about his experiences tracking Russian propagandists who used this strategy on Facebook during the 2016 election. A great way to spread fake information is by using fake people. AI only makes this process easier.

It made me wonder: If disinformation thrives in an environment of coordinated inauthentic behavior, how do we create a dramatically different kind of media environment? In other words, what does uncoordinated authentic behavior look like? 

At my election night party, we talked about politics, but we also talked about our families, our cats, and what we’d been reading lately. We made plans to see each other again, to help each other with projects, and to loan each other books or movies we’d loved. 

The scene was disorganized and silly, but it was also a powerful example of authentic social connections forming through face-to-face encounters. Especially at a time when many of us are struggling to trust our neighbors and communities, it was a balm.

And that’s what gave me hope when I woke up to see that Trump had definitively won. Before we can take action and resist authoritarianism, we need models of a public sphere that isn’t rife with coercion and lies. And why shouldn’t a backyard party be one possible model? It’s a group chat that isn’t shaped by algorithms, polluted by AI mirages, or surveilled by a corporation.

This should be the horizon we stretch toward as we imagine new ways to communicate, online and off. The resistance starts in spaces where we can tell the truth about what is happening to us, without fear that our words will be stolen, mutated into someone else’s property or propaganda.

Annalee Newitz is a science journalist and science fiction author whose latest book is Stories Are Weapons: Psychological Warfare and the American Mind.

Arlie Hochschild: The common ground is there; we just need to unearth it

What makes me hopeful are the hidden empathy bridge builders I have met, many blue-collar men who live within Trump-dominated regions in the South and Appalachia where I least expected to find them. The ones I came to know were not trained or hired, or affiliated with any formal program, but in their personal lives. They invisibly contribute to the greater good.

In my new book, Stolen Pride: Loss, Shame, and the Rise of the Right—based on field work in the whitest and second poorest congressional district in the nation—I met a man who had been a 12-year heroin addict, entered a recovery program in rural Pikeville, Kentucky; and became a counselor who took joy in helping other addicts recover. Then he attended a Narcotics Anonymous meeting in Louisville, Kentucky, and there reached across the racial divide to Black addicts and made plans to get them to join him on rock-climbing expeditions. Another man, a minister and college teacher, reached across the political divide to conspiracy-minded far right ministers in the area.

The people I have met and interviewed during my seven years doing ethnographic research complicate the narrative of division in our country. If we look closely, we can find and build on surprising common ground. Climate change is a potential cross-partisan issue. Researchers at Yale, Stanford, and Monmouth Universities have found that nationwide, a majority of voters in both parties agree on many actions to mitigate it. Should the U.S. “set strict carbon dioxide emission limits on existing coal-fired power plants to reduce global warming and improve public heath,” Yale asked, even if “the cost of electricity to consumers and companies would likely increase?” Eighty-seven per cent of Democrats and 56% of Republicans answered “yes.” “Should the U.S. participate in the Paris climate accord and reduce greenhouse gas emissions regardless of what other countries do?” A majority in both parties said “yes.”

A Pikeville-based, pro-Trump Republican businessman, now rejoicing in the recent election results, reminded me of yet more hidden common ground. He had long been pro-coal but added, as he drove me around the valley holler where he had been born and grew up, “I’m not a climate denier.” At one point, he pointed to a mountain flattened by mountain-top removal, saying, “I’d love to see solar panels and windmills on top of a lot of our mountains here.” In Republican West Virginia, more people now work in solar energy than in coal.

Many bridge builders are young, answering the call to actively “do” democracy—to reach across our class, regional, and partisan divides—instead of simply “live in” it. My own California-based granddaughter has been going door to door in Phoenix, Arizona, getting to know people of different views. And anyone learning to “do democracy” is adding to the greater good.


Arlie Hochschild’s latest book is Stolen Pride: Loss, Shame and the Rjse of the Right. Some of this response is adapted from her piece with David Hochschild, “More Republicans Than You Think Support Action on Climate Change” (New York Times, 2018).

Tami Pyfer: We’re creating a dignity movement

What gives me hope in the midst of the country’s difficult and divisive times is the positive response I’m seeing to our work at UNITE with the Dignity Index—and what that can mean for our country.

The Dignity Index is an 8-point scale that my colleagues Tom Rosshirt, Tim Shriver, and I designed and tested in Utah during the 2022 midterm elections, which rates the language we use when we disagree or in moments of conflict. We believe that contempt increases division, while dignity eases division, and so we created the Index to measure them. Levels ONE to FOUR reflect contempt: “Those people are ruining everything. Those people are evil.” The very bottom level of the scale is the language of political violence, when I am dehumanizing others.

The top four levels of the scale, FIVE to EIGHT, are the dignity levels of the scale, where even in disagreement you can say, “You know, they have a right to be here, too.” At a SIX, you start to look at the things you have in common and find ways to move from separating yourself from others to working together. At SEVEN, you’re able to say, “Maybe I made a mistake; maybe I was wrong. Let’s find out what we don’t agree on and let me learn from you.” And at the top level of the scale, we are able to see dignity in everyone.

What gives me hope is that most people don’t want to be part of creating or condoning a culture of division and contempt. People start to score others’ language and almost immediately and reflexively turn the scale on themselves—sometimes realizing that they are using contempt. Once they understand what the language of contempt looks like, they want to learn how to be part of the solution—changing the way they think about, speak to, and act toward others.

I’m inspired by the way the Dignity Index is being applied around the country. Oklahoma Governor Kevin Stitt has taken the Dignity Pledge and is working to bring the Dignity Index to public and higher education institutions in his state. A group of female elected officials in Utah has adopted the Dignity Index in their work as mayors, city councilwomen, and school board members. A college professor in Nevada has incorporated the Dignity Index in her college courses, and training on the Index is happening on other campuses in more than a dozen states. We’ve been asked to bring the Index to the workplace, from small businesses to global corporations.

We are creating a dignity movement! Once you learn to recognize dignity and contempt in your language, you can’t unlearn it. Dignity is a practice that can be applied in families, the workplace, in education, and in government and community organizations. It gives me hope and excitement because of the way it’s deeply impacting people who see the power of dignity to transform our relationships, and to ease divisions, prevent violence, and help us solve our problems.


Tami Pyfer is the VP external for Project UNITE, lead trainer, and co-creator of the Dignity Index.

Tania Israel: What gives me hope? You do!

I spent the months leading up to the election engaging with Americans across the political spectrum. I listened to them from the stage, in bars, on the phone, and at their front doors. I heard from people who are happily married across political parties, who are reaching out to repair relationships strained by differing views, who appreciate their neighbors despite contrasting yard signs. What I glean from these conversations is that Americans are more thoughtful, complex, and caring than we imagine them to be.
 
My anecdotal experiences may not convince you, especially if you’ve been consuming news and social media coverage of ignorant, hostile extremists. Fortunately, I have research on my side. Consider the following evidence.
 
We have more in common than we realize:

• Two-thirds of Americans do not fall into either end of the political spectrum. This “exhausted majority” is tired of division, recognizes complexity of issues, and supports compromise.
• Our negative feelings about people on “the other side” are fueled by misperceptions. We overestimate the distance between our views, the demographic differences between party members, the willingness of people in the other party to circumvent democratic norms, their support for political violence, and the dislike and dehumanization they feel toward us.
• Americans share core values, such as service, patriotism, and bipartisanship. We agree on government accountability and representation, as well as protecting Constitutional liberties and fair application of laws. Furthermore, we all desire free and fair elections, support equal rights, and do not want government officials to abuse their power.

 
Americans are taking action to combat division:

 
To be sure, this is not the whole story. There are, indeed, people who are misinformed, aggressive, and corrupt. But most of us are not. Most of us are tired of division. Most of us reject violence. Most of us strive for our families to be healthy, our communities to be safe, our lives to feel meaningful.
 
What gives me hope? You do! I trust that you can incorporate the information above to correct your misperceptions of people across the political divide. I know that you can see beyond a T-shirt or a hat to discover three-dimensional humans sporting slogans. I believe in your ability to cultivate curiosity and compassion that will help you broaden your mind and open your heart. I recognize your potential to envision and embody a resilient, connected America. And that gives me hope.

Tania Israel, Ph.D., is a professor of counseling psychology at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and award-winning author of Beyond Your Bubble: How to Connect Across the Political Divide (APA, 2020) and Facing the Fracture: How to Navigate the Challenges of Living in a Divided Nation (Greenleaf, 2024)

Mónica Guzmán: These three hopeful things dwarf my fear

I have fear for the overall health of our society and our country. But my hope has dwarfed my fear.

My hope stems from my work, which places me in many politically mixed rooms and makes me look through lenses informed by that. Borne out by research, these three things in particular give me hope.

First, research tells us we’re not as divided as we think on most issues. Our political climate is rife with misperceptions and exaggerations that, as soon as you get a little closer, you realize are just not real. We have enormous capacity as humans to understand each other, if we allow ourselves to break out of the cycle where we judge each other more and engage with each other less.

I see lots of evidence that there is more exhaustion and awareness of the fact that when we only surround ourselves with people who share our instincts, we also then share their blind spots. People are tired of myopia. The key perception gap study in 2019, which has been replicated in many ways, shows that when people on either side of the political divide look at the other, they assume that people hold more extreme views than they actually do. We get each other wrong. For example, when Democrats are asked how many Republicans believe that properly controlled immigration is good for the country, they think about half of Republicans believe that, but it’s actually 85%.

Secondly, another study last year showed that people consistently underestimate how enjoyable conversations that could include disagreement can be. They keep thinking it’s going to be horrible and painful. When they actually do it, often they say, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad. We actually laughed and I kind of liked it?” We forget that disagreement can be fun.

Thirdly, our politicians who are rolling up their sleeves and doing the real work give me hope. There are lots of politicians who are work horses, not show horses. But it’s the show horses taking all the attention and the work horses getting lost in obscurity. The organization Starts With Us did a well-conducted survey about how the media tends to over-amplify the extremes and ignore a lot of great stuff in the middle.

If you look closely at the reality, you see Governor Spencer Cox, who was the chair of the National Governors Association from 2023 to 2024, a huge working group of governors. Each chair of the association gets to decide what initiative they want to focus their term on, and Cox led a national campaign called Disagree Better. He got lots of elected officials to make ads for local and national TV on how they’ve worked together to do something concrete in their communities. We talked about this and more research that gives me hope on my podcast, A Braver Way, with American Enterprise Institute senior fellow Yuval Levin and Washington Post columnist Amanda Ripley.

Mónica Guzmán is senior fellow at Braver Angels, the host of A Braver Way podcast, and author of I Never Thought Of It That Way: How to Have Fearlessly Curious Conversations in Dangerously Divided Times.

Marc Freedman and Eunice Lin Nichols: Intergenerational collaboration is a short bridge to hope

Americans are living in the most age-diverse society in human history, with a quarter of the population under 20, a quarter over 60, and the rest in between. At the same time, we’re arguably the most age-segregated nation in history. Our institutions, infrastructure, and policies are literally designed to separate us—often for the sake of efficiency—with young people in schools, middle-aged people in workplaces, and older adults in senior centers, retirement communities, and nursing homes. 

This segregation could spell disaster, and many think it will. But we both began our careers as young people dedicated to collaborating with elders. These intergenerational interactions transformed our thinking, our work, our friendships, and our lives. It’s why we can’t help but see hope in all the ways people bridge the generation gap every day. 

In fact, vast majorities of Americans of all ages agree with us. They believe intergenerational collaboration—“cogeneration”—will help us better solve our problems and reduce divisions in our society. This bit of good news comes from a nationally representative survey conducted by NORC at the University of Chicago. But that’s not the most interesting part of the survey. 

It turns out the greatest interest in intergenerational collaboration comes from young people, and Black and Hispanic people of all ages. In fact, Gen Z respondents were nearly twice as likely to be motivated by the opportunity to work across generations as members of the Baby Boomer and Silent generations. In these divisive times, the deep passion on the part of young people to work cogenerationally gives us great hope for the future.

We see hope in Citizen University’s Youth Collaboratory, a program that equips high schoolers to build civic power for the greater good. These young civic leaders told us they’re eager to work across generations for change. Sure, they see obstacles—unintentional tokenism, too few opportunities to collaborate, and not enough time to build relationships and trust—but they’re committed to working together to overcome these challenges and get things done.

We love the way Stoop Stories, a New York City organization, uses documentary film to tell stories of older and younger neighbors getting to know one another. At a time when the two age groups are increasingly lonely and isolated, it’s a way to capture and inspire intergenerational connection and strengthen community, too.

We’re encouraged by organizations like Third Act, a national nonprofit launched cogenerationally by environmentalist and writer Bill McKibben and climate activist Vanessa Arcara to organize Americans over 60 to work with younger generations to “safeguard our climate and democracy.” 

Of all the things that divide us, we believe intergenerational connection is the ultimate “short bridge,” in the words of UC Berkeley professor john a. powell. Crossing it brings opportunities to transcend the more difficult divides of race, culture, and politics.  

We are convinced that a rising generation of young Americans will work side by side with older people to co-create a better world. Together, we’re ready to make the most of our increasingly multigenerational future.

Marc Freedman and Eunice Lin Nichols are co-CEOs of CoGenerate, a nonprofit working to bridge generational divides.

Niobe Way: Humans are born to care and connect

As a society, we have a crisis of connection—but my hope comes from knowing we’re born with the ability to solve this problem.

Since 1988, I’ve been doing research on social-emotional development with young people ages 12 to 19 of many different identities: boys, girls, non-gender-conforming, Black, white. If you listen to boys ages 12 to 14, they’re very clear about wanting deep, emotionally connected friendships—to not be laughed at when they feel vulnerable, to not just play football or video games with someone. Sometimes they have those friendships; sometimes they don’t. But this very strong desire for deeply connected relationships is consistent across race, ethnicity, and social class.

A few years later, why do late teen boys start to distance themselves from the relationships they need for their Mental health? The masculine ideology in our culture that privileges everything we’ve deemed masculine over everything we’ve deemed feminine: like self, autonomy, and stoicism over sensitivity and relational intelligence. The culture perpetuates a cartoon character of boys that isn’t based on what real boys want and need, creating Mental health problems, suicide, violence, mass shooters.

But boys teach us something very important: that we have natural capacities to build meaningful relationships with each other and with ourselves. Young boys remind us of our natural relational intelligence: the capacity to listen with curiosity, ask questions, and try to understand somebody else’s thoughts and feelings in a deep, meaningful way.

For example, if you listen to boys, they talk about how they sometimes cover over their feelings and look mad, but they’re not mad; they’re just sad. I’ve heard many boys ask their moms, “Why do you smile when you’re feeling sad?” They can look at another human and understand that there is a complex emotional world underneath the person in front of them, and they understand the complexity of their own internal worlds.

These relational questions we ask each other are so important, beyond just helping individuals feel connected. Once you ask a question, you cannot hold on to a stereotype. When you hear an answer, you begin to see yourself in the other, and that’s what we mean by common humanity.

I feel hopeful because it’s easy to change the culture. We’re changing culture all the time. We don’t have to teach boys or anyone else these skills; they’re born with them, and we just have to nourish them.

There’s such an urgency now, and young people are getting louder about what they want and need. I have hope that they will help us change the culture. If we can hear what they’re teaching us and then act on it, we’ll be able to get where we want to go.

Niobe Way, Ed.D., is a professor of development psychology at NYU who’s been studying social-emotional development among adolescents for almost 40 years, and author of Rebels With a Cause: Reimagining Boys, Ourselves, and Our Culture.