Democratic party leaders have two choices: pass their torches, or get burned by them

A sudden realignment has placed Democrats in the posture previously occupied by conservatives. Victory depends on escaping.

In the aftermath of November, it's safe to say a lot of us were stunned by how the lines ended up being drawn. Friendships fractured, group chats went eerily silent, and the old political maps we’d used to navigate the world felt useless overnight. Even inside the Democratic coalition, the tensions became painfully clear. Friends have confessed to me privately that longstanding relationships have dissolved into awkward silences, or worse, bitter arguments. The dust hasn't fully settled yet, but one thing is clear: the political landscape has radically shifted, and the "burn it down" coalition and the "save democracy" coalition aren't quite what anyone expected them to be.

Historically, liberalism was about pushing boundaries, dismantling barriers, and driving society toward something better. But lately, Democrats have found themselves defending the status quo rather than championing a compelling vision of the future. Take Chuck Schumer’s controversial decision to back a Republican-crafted government funding bill in March. His rationale—avoiding a government shutdown—was entirely understandable. But it encapsulated exactly what makes politics feel upside down: Democrats defending the system, while Republicans gleefully dismantle it.

The GOP, meanwhile, has embraced chaos as a governing principle. Elon Musk, now bizarrely installed as head of the Department of Government Efficiency (yes, that's DOGE), epitomizes this new brand of right-wing disruption. Under his direction, dramatic cuts to Social Security have left vulnerable Americans reeling. Musk dismissively calling Social Security "the greatest Ponzi scheme of all time" only underscores how far from traditional conservatism Republicans have strayed.

Then there's Vice President JD Vance. His recent speech at the Munich Security Conference shocked observers precisely because Republicans were once seen as the careful stewards of NATO and global stability. But in the Trump-Biden era, Vance openly undermined these alliances, attacking European leaders over immigration and asserting internal threats were greater than external dangers. This was not cautious conservatism—this was revolutionary rhetoric aimed squarely at dismantling the established international order.

Meanwhile, Democrats' attempts at rallying their base around preserving democracy itself have often fallen flat. Vice President Kamala Harris’s 2024 speech at the Ellipse serves as a cautionary example. While her intentions were noble, her message of unity and incremental progress lacked the clarity and boldness necessary to compete with the incendiary—and, to some, thrilling—messages from the right. Voters were clear last November: simply defending democracy isn't enough when your opponents promise radical transformation, and ignoring that message is a recipe for getting destroyed in the next election where the Republican is somebody other than Donald Trump.

The truth is, Americans have always been drawn to the new and the next. We are captivated by stories of transformation, innovation, and sweeping change—even when those stories are dangerous. If Democrats want to compete, they can't rely solely on warnings about fascism and the erosion of democracy. They need a narrative that's equally compelling, one that promises not just safety from collapse but a genuinely exciting vision for the future.

Maybe that vision looks like the one sketched out by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson in their book Abundance. Maybe it looks like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's scathing critique of the grindset mindset's siren song. Maybe it's my former colleague, Kat Abughazelah, taking on an eighty-year-old incumbent, regardless of her voting record. But one thing is clear: the future will not be decided by party leaders who have been collecting social security checks for 15 years. With the obvious exception of Donald Trump, Republicans seem to get this—you don't see Mitch McConnell or Chuck Grassley giving many interviews. The sooner we acknowledge that and start putting fresh faces forward, the more successful we will be.

Ultimately, to prevent the “next big thing” from becoming crypto-fascism—an authoritarianism cloaked in pseudo-revolutionary promises—the coalition dedicated to saving democracy must transform itself from a defensive alliance into one that's forward-thinking, vibrant, and innovative. Because when all the dust settles—and it will—we want to be standing alongside friends again, on ground that's genuinely worth fighting for.