
I recently completed a tour of the American Southwest. The scenery was spectacular and the spring climate remarkably pleasant.
At the beginning of the tour the tour director asked us to introduce ourselves and identify something that we were passionate about, other than our families. I was picked to go first and noted that, while others tended to avoid the topic in groups like this, I was passionate about public policy and, therefore, politics. There was some nervous laughter, but one woman called out that she loved discussing politics.
Over the next several days I was able to get a sense from some members of the group about their feelings on a number of important issues and the state of our politics. Sometimes these views were expressed openly. In other cases a bit of coaxing through questions was required. None of the conversations were confrontational.
What struck me most, however, was not the conversations themselves, but how few of them there were. Despite my obvious invitation to engage, most people avoided politics almost entirely.
That itself seemed revealing.
Democratic Party Politics
The easiest conversation to start was with the woman who volunteered that she loved talking politics. She turned out to be a Democratic Party activist from a northeastern state. Her self-description was that she was left wing but not far left wing.
We agreed on a number of things, one of which was that the Democratic Party needed to reach out to voters outside of its normal constituencies. I shared the CIVPAC website information and asked her to take a look and tell me what she thought. My sense was that she ultimately did look at it and did not like what she saw. She never raised the issue again throughout the trip.
At one point, I was told that she regularly wrote John Fetterman, the Democratic Senator from Pennsylvania, arguing that he should leave the Democratic Party.
If accurate, I found it ironic that someone who agreed the Democratic Party needed to broaden its coalition would reject a Senator who still voted with his party the overwhelming majority of the time.
I think it may be easier to accept the concept of an expanded coalition in the abstract than it is to accept the reality of sharp disagreement from members of one’s own coalition.
The Senate Race in Maine
One member of the group was from Maine. She volunteered that she was relieved to see Janet Mills, the current 78-year-old Governor of Maine, withdraw from the race for the U.S. Senate seat from Maine.
When asked how she felt about the leading remaining Democratic candidate for the Senate, she expressed strong dislike for him. Not exactly her words, but that was clearly the sentiment. I later researched the candidate myself and told her that I largely agreed with her concerns. She shrugged and said that “they are all awful.”
I would not take this as an endorsement of Susan Collins so much as one more exhausted voter reluctantly embracing the lesser of two evils.
For myself, the Maine race presents a genuine challenge. If CIVPAC does not ultimately endorse Collins, I am not sure what other Republican Senate candidate we would endorse. She appears more centrist on many public policy issues than almost every other Republican Senator and arguably to the left of a handful of Democratic Senators. She has opposed Trump on a small number of important issues, which makes her stand out, but she also supported Trump on many more issues that tarnish her centrist credentials.
At the same time, her likely opponent appears to be a far-left populist whose views on socialism, Palestine, and even the possible role of political violence are difficult for many moderates to accept.
The conversation itself was short, and unlike the earlier conversation with the Democratic activist, I sensed that this woman was simply politically exhausted. My suspicion is that she may actually be more representative of the broader electorate.
Immigration
One member of the group did engage deeply about immigration policy, specifically the H-1B visa program for highly skilled workers. She had acquired additional training in an effort to make a mid-career transition into the information technology field. Despite the retraining, she was unable to break into the field and felt that her path had been blocked by competition from less expensive foreign labor employed through the H-1B program.
Obviously, I am in no position to judge whether her assessment of why she was unable to enter the field is entirely accurate. But her feelings were very strong, and I suspect they may eventually turn her into a one-issue voter.
She likely reflects the feelings of many Americans who believe immigration has adversely affected their economic prospects.
The economics here are complicated. Expanding the supply of highly skilled workers may increase growth, reduce costs, and improve innovation. But concentrated adjustment costs are also real, particularly for workers who invest substantial time and money preparing for careers they believe will offer stable upward mobility.
Policies that appear economically efficient at a national level can still generate resentment and distrust if many people do not experience the burdens and benefits as fairly distributed.
International Politics
As chance would have it, one member of the group spoke Hungarian and maintained contacts back in Hungary. I took the opportunity to ask him how he viewed Viktor Orban’s recent defeat.
He argued that Orban retained significant support in Hungary and that some of that support was understandable. He believed Orban had served Hungary well by restricting immigration and felt this had protected Hungary from some of the immigrant-associated crime experienced elsewhere in Europe. He also seemed to admire Orban’s pro-natalist policies, including generous employment protections and benefits for new mothers.
This was not a wholehearted endorsement of Orban, nor was it a full-throated condemnation.
For myself, I viewed Orban’s departure with guarded optimism. Guarded because it is not yet entirely clear how his replacement will govern. Nevertheless, there are early encouraging signs, particularly regarding cooperation with the European Union and support for Ukraine.
What interested me most, however, was how poorly the conversation fit into standard American political categories. An immigrant expressing partial sympathy for a nationalist European leader because of concerns about immigration, crime, and demographics does not fit comfortably into the ideological narratives that dominate American politics.
Conclusions
There is nothing remotely scientific about gathering political opinions through group travel. But informal conversations do sometimes reveal things that polls cannot.
I had political conversations with no more than a quarter of the participants on the trip. Despite my obvious invitation to engage, perhaps three quarters of the group never expressed any political opinions at all.
I increasingly think that silence itself may say something important.
Most people may simply be exhausted by the current political environment. They may also be reluctant to expose their views to criticism from people they do not know well. In many social settings, politics increasingly feels less like a conversation and more like a potential social risk.
People naturally search for conversational ground with complete strangers. Passing on an obvious invitation to discuss politics may therefore tell us quite a bit.
I also suspect that some voters, like the Democratic activist and the woman frustrated by immigration policy, already have relatively fixed political identities and voting behavior. But the silent majority may still be politically available in ways that activists and highly engaged partisans often underestimate.
Both parties should recognize that and act accordingly.
In retrospect, I also wish I had identified myself not simply as someone interested in politics, but specifically as a centrist independent. I wonder whether that would have changed some of the conversations โ or perhaps encouraged more of them.
Maybe next time.







