What now?
Above all else, we must remember: this was the will of the American people.
At the time of writing, Donald J. Trump has once again ascended to the nation’s highest office, winning over 72,623,882 votes (representing approximately 50.9% of the popular vote) against opponent Kamala Harris’s 67,927,989 votes (representing approximately 47.6% of the popular vote). Trump’s victory over the incumbent vice president secures him his second and final presidential term, an end to an election cycle equal parts tumultuous and divisive.
We write, as an editorial board, not as partisan representatives of any one group or ideology; we write not to repeat statements that have already been made by many before us, nor to incite further division in an already fractured community, nor to stoke fear of what may lie ahead—but to allow us, the people of MIT, the opportunity to reflect on this election and our role in helping shape the future of this nation and this world.
Still, we must acknowledge a dark and undeniable reality, one that sits at the core of this very statement: former president and current president-elect Donald J. Trump—a twice-impeached convicted felon widely characterized by attitudes ranging from racism and xenophobia to totalitarianism and mythomania—is a dangerous man.
Nations Built, Nations Broken
Trump ended his first presidential term, his first actual term in politics, less than a year into the COVID-19 pandemic; his upcoming tenure will take over from an embattled administration that spent its four years in power suturing the nation’s pandemic-era wounds and unwinding the policies put in place by its predecessor. Even before March 2020, illegal immigration, federal debt, and the trade deficit all rose across Trump’s four years in power, issues that he had pledged to check in sweeping promises made during his first campaign.
Yet in his four years out of office, he has remained an elephant in the room, a shadowy figure in national and global politics.
From within, a transformed Republican party has spent the last eight years courting the whims of the president-elect, a sweeping metamorphosis from a party that has long prided itself on individualism and liberalism. They appear poised to maintain their devotion to, and almost worship of, Trump and the movement he has catalyzed. Leaders globally are following suit in what appears to be acknowledgements of fealty to a man who will once again control the world’s greatest power. Trump’s victory is the latest forte in a crescendo of far-right populist movements that have risen on the global stage.
But the danger Trump represents is not, in itself, the power that has been bestowed upon him; it is in his instability and unpredictability, his increasing penchant for violent and sinister rhetoric, and his impulses in translating his diction into action. At its most fundamental, the danger he represents comes to life through the large swathes of the American public that resonate with him.
Nations are built and broken by powerful men, men who ignite an inferno that cannot be extinguished, men not unlike Trump.
Politics at Play
Taking all of that into account, we must remember: this was the will of the American people.
Whether this is a win or a loss to you, remember that this is, at heart, American politics at play: Trump has won the popular vote and the Electoral College. He has been undeniably chosen by the people and for the people. The election was always going to be close and contentious: yet as many representatives of the news media have succinctly stated, Trump’s appeals to fear and distrust ultimately won over the people against Harris’s calls for calm and trust. This election cycle in particular has amplified falsehoods and false promises, as the political landscape of the past eight years dominated by Trump has led to receding faith in the American experiment.
But Trump and Harris were not the only players on the battlefield. Third-party candidates Jill Stein, a long-time representative of the Green Party, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., who dropped out of the race in August and has since attached himself and his voter base to Trump, and the nearly two dozen other candidates and dropouts have all altered the dynamics within this election cycle.
Republicans centered their campaigns on economy and security, a direct appeal to the growing concerns of an electorate that perceived Democratic control of the executive branch as a disaster. Voters bought in—including young men and Latino voters across the board. Scores of Republican politicians and officials, who had previously spoken out against Trump, fell into line once more. The campaign was antithetical to unity and hope: it feasted on sowing disharmony and promoting pessimism.
Democrats, meanwhile, ran a shaky and narrow campaign on protecting democracy and keeping Trump out of the White House—but at the end of the day offered little in the way of an actionable policy agenda past the sentiment of preserving the status quo. Left-leaning voters were not incentivized: compared to the 2020 election, millions stayed home. These included moderates, independents, and protestors in factions such as the Uncommitted National Movement. The Democrats’ lack of a resounding message cost them.
Ultimately, neither camp succeeded in their basic responsibility as leaders of the free world: to unite and represent the American people.
The outcome of this race was not known to anyone—perhaps anyone but Trump, who, again, has long spoken of his intention to wrest control of the presidency no matter what—until its final minutes. Polls across the board oscillated in favor of Harris and Trump constantly, and up until Election Day, Harris seemed to hold a slim lead.
This race was a rare case where everything was up for grabs: safety and security, immigration and globalization, equality and diversity, inflation and economy, abortion and privacy, and foreign policy. More topics at stake included: higher education, healthcare, marijuana and drug culture, climate change and policy, police reform or revitalization, LGBTQ+ rights, and countless others. This race, as many saw it, was the watershed moment in the fate of this nation. And this race, as it seems, has opened up old scars and revealed new wounds: our nation is bleeding.
But regardless of who won the presidency, and regardless of what may come in the next four years, it is clear to us that the people want, and the nation needs, change.
And here, we must recognize: this can be the will of the American people.
The Will of the American People
When we bring up the “will” of the American people, we do not only mean the privilege to vote. Of course, voting for our representation is a tenet of American democracy—but there remains so much more to be done to truly unify this nation.
First, we call attention to the element perhaps most central to us, The Tech, as a representative of the news media. In the age of information (and disinformation), skepticism, rationality, and curiosity have become traits of the utmost importance. The internet is rife with falsehoods, and social media’s penchant for generating online echo chambers of compatible consumers only fuels partisanship. When masses of people flock to singular sources of information and discredit all others, whether it’s right-leaning Fox News or Qatar-based Al Jazeera or the numerous accounts that dot social media networks, they miss out on critical aspects of the world that offer fresh perspectives on such multi-dimensional topics. Homogeneity of thought is the ultimate poison to a heterogeneous society.
Ignorance may be bliss to the individual, but it is bleak for democracy. When masses of people choose not to interact with information and the wider world at all, regardless of the reason, they inevitably contribute to complacency in a democracy in darkness. We have said this before: trust the news media. Trust the free press. Trust the people who continue to uphold the very principles of the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.
We must learn to take in perspectives, especially those we do not agree with; we must learn to engage in discourse with others, especially with those we do not agree with. We must learn to acknowledge, accept, and perhaps even absorb those perspectives—and allow for our views to grow and develop. That is the path to reconstructing a real democracy.
The responsibility does not end there: we may, as voters, decide our stances on specific topics, whether it is on helping enshrine abortion rights or pushing for a robust economy. We may even vote for representatives that commit to such causes. But it is our responsibility, too, in making those changes happen.
Be an advocate, and be an activist. Volunteer. Help with causes on the local level. Engage with political candidates and ensure that they know who they are representing. Inform the uninformed, assist the unassisted, and remember the forgotten. Be an agent of change.
One’s responsibility to their community does not end with casting a ballot every couple of years. And now more than ever, with the nation in the state it is in, it is our responsibility to enact the change we want to happen.
And our last request, and one that we feel is most important to make clear: break party lines.
When you pick up your ballot, resist the urge to simply bubble in Democrat, Democrat, Democrat or Republican, Republican, Republican. Across all levels of politics, select the representative that best represents your ideals, regardless of party affiliation. (And if none do: write-ins exist.) When we look past the red versus the blue, we are reminded that, in the end, representatives are to secure the continued health, prosperity, and stability of their community; the only differences between our choices for these representatives are their respective visions for how to achieve that goal.
It is tempting, we recognize, to keep within party lines. It is a safe bet to cling to one's ideology and identity to a party. But this is what has driven our nation apart: when we see the world only through lenses that are red or blue, we inevitably isolate ourselves from half of the world around us. We lose sight of our commonalities and see only our differences. The chasm between “us” and “them” only widens.
Coalition and compromise are a rare occurrence, a fact that is widely acknowledged by leading political figures everywhere. Rather than working together to secure a strong and bright future, the political world has become a territorial dispute in which all camps refuse to budge.
Even the very idea of “the opposition,” when laid out critically, presents itself to be an illogical concept: all of us ultimately want the best for our communities and our nation’s future, in whatever image we envision for it. Inevitably, our visions for America’s future will conflict in some way. But we must take pride in the fact that we are all committed to securing a future at all. When we hide behind a party line and say to ourselves, “they are destroying democracy,” we create an opposition that says the same of us.
Democracy in its true form cannot exist when opposing voices are forcefully silenced: that is a starkly different kind of political system known to us as authoritarianism.
We recognize that a second Trump presidency has the potential to reshape the chair in the Oval Office into the throne of a king—what the founding fathers fought precisely against a quarter of a millennia ago. Trump has promised to quench challenges to his asserted power and retaliate against his perceived political enemies. He has flirted with the idea of deploying the military on citizens and has openly discussed plans to purge what he sees as “the enemy from within.” His erratic concept of the limits of presidential authority (or lack thereof), paired with historic Supreme Court rulings that are set to further benefit his administration, may have unfathomable consequences.
Nonetheless, we must recognize that the result of this election was the will of the American people.
But when we break party lines, commit to compromise, and act critically and with intention, we can step towards a future where the will of the American people is the will of all, and not just that of a narrow majority.
Our Community Once More
The results of this election are a wake-up sign for all of us of the path that lies ahead. We must commit to our community in ways that we have not done before.
We have seen deepening divides in our community, and we must be ready to confront these divisions. We must even mend the bridges that have been burned from within; our community—our 11,886 undergraduate and graduate students, our 17,180 employees and faculty, our global network of alumni, and the countless other groups that call this Institute our home—is under tremendous pressure from all fronts, including from ourselves. Over the past year, we have seen unprecedented divisions across our campus, reflecting a broader national sentiment of discord and distrust, specifically concerning an expanding war in the Middle East and the future of a post-affirmative action MIT.
To our fellow students, we ask you all to remember that tomorrow is in your hands. Take a step back and think about the world around you. You came here to be around the best and brightest—you came here to be the best and brightest, a shaper of the future of this nation and the world. You came here seeking excellence. You came here seeking belonging. You came here, and now, you can be a part of something much larger than yourself. Lead us into the future.
When it is all said and done, when America emerges from one of the most critical and darkest junctures in modernity, when we finally are tasked with this nation’s future, we must remember: it has been, and will always be, the will of the American people.
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Editorials are the official opinion of The Tech. They are written by the Editorial Board, which consists of Publishers Jyotsna Nair and Ellie Montemayor, Editor-in-Chief Alex Tang, Managing Editor Kate Lu, Executive Editor Vivian Hir, and Opinion Editor Srinidhi Narayanan.