Talking about politics is often like walking a tightrope—one must balance carefully, trying not to be swept away by personal emotions when discussing these topics with friends or family. Politics is inherently complex and often stirs up powerful feelings. No matter how much we try, our personal beliefs inevitably shape our opinions and color our judgment, sometimes in ways we might not even realize.
We all know that politics is controversial. But why, exactly? Why are people, even close friends or family members, so quick to argue, or even fight, over what might seem like “petty” politics? In my view, discussing politics is far from petty. At its heart, politics is about the structures that govern our lives, the ideals we stand for, and the collective decisions that shape society. And perhaps because of this weight, political discussions often blur lines with deeply personal beliefs and identities.
In many places, the line between politics and religion is especially blurred. Religion and politics are, in many ways, intertwined and seem destined to remain so for as long as humans have belief systems and governing bodies. These two forces often shape the values, behaviors, and decisions of individuals and communities, creating a powerful intersection that is difficult to untangle. This mix of ideology and governance can make political conversations feel highly personal, even existential, as they tap into some of our most fundamental beliefs.
So, it’s no surprise that political discussions are so sensitive that many people avoid them altogether. Even I hesitated to publish this piece. You might be surprised to know that this article has been sitting in my drafts for months, waiting for the right moment. Each time I thought about sharing it, I would pull back, hesitant. Was it the fear of backlash? Worry over lost followers? Or was it concern over strained friendships? It was all of that and more. I kept asking myself: if I can’t be my authentic self, what am I really preserving? What’s the value in holding back?
I also work in an industry filled with people who seem to have never looked at their social science textbooks again after school. I realize that may sound harsh, but it’s a genuine observation. For many, their entire knowledge of politics comes from social media posts, YouTube essays, or podcasts. While these platforms can offer some valuable perspectives, they often oversimplify, misrepresent, or amplify extremes in a way that makes thoughtful political discourse even more difficult. This approach not only limits understanding but fosters a dangerous, one-dimensional view of complex issues. Social media encourages us to take positions but rarely gives us the tools to discuss them meaningfully.
With every scroll, share, and like, people’s political beliefs become performance-based rather than principle-driven, aligning themselves more with trends than with a personal understanding. The landscape of political discourse has shifted dramatically, with quick takes often replacing thoughtful, nuanced conversation. This isn’t just risky for our understanding of politics; it’s risky for democracy itself, which relies on an informed and engaged citizenry.
In recent years, the ideological divide between people has only deepened, fueled by the rise of conservatism perpetuated and magnified by social media. Platforms that were once spaces for connection and sharing have become the epicenter of political polarization, where algorithms prioritize sensationalism and outrage over balanced perspectives. People are now more isolated in echo chambers, surrounded by opinions that confirm their own biases while demonizing others. This polarization has escalated to the point where meaningful discussions often feel impossible, with any middle ground being rapidly eroded. Hate and resentment between groups with differing ideologies have been on the rise, making empathy and understanding seem like distant ideals.
At the heart of this division is a growing emphasis on capitalistic gains and individual success, often at the expense of collective well-being. The guiding principles of politics, which ideally should be empathy, kindness, and a commitment to uplift society as a whole, have been overshadowed by an obsession with profit, power, and the preservation of the status quo. This approach is simply unsustainable in the long run. Societies built on compassion, inclusivity, and understanding thrive, whereas those driven solely by profit eventually falter under the weight of inequality and discontent. We desperately need political ideologies that prioritize the humanity in each of us, rather than fueling competition and animosity.
Even terms like “leftist,” which historically align with ideals of equality and social progress, have been twisted into slurs or labels of shame. To be a “leftist” today often invites mockery or hostility, as though it’s a badge of radicalism rather than a stance rooted in values of fairness and solidarity. This stigmatization discourages many from embracing or even exploring progressive ideals, as people fear the backlash or the oversimplification of their beliefs into caricatures. Such labels only serve to deepen divides, pitting people against one another based on preconceived notions rather than fostering genuine conversations around shared values and goals.
Despite these fears, I feel compelled to share my perspective. If I can’t express my views and be true to myself, what am I holding onto? Real friendships, real connections, and real dialogue are worth the discomfort of honest conversation. I’d rather risk a few criticisms than live in the shadow of silent conformity. So here I am, finally hitting ‘publish’—taking the leap into that uncertain space where my real self, with all its opinions and flaws, meets the world.