Politics of power and life

There are few things more disheartening than seeing people you know – people you grew up with, went to school with, or even close friends or relatives – repost, defend, or outright support political figures such as Donald Trump or Nigel Farage. 

Especially when you’ve done the work – you’ve read, researched, paid attention – and you know just how much damage this kind of political leadership causes. When you’ve seen what it does to marginalised communities. When you’ve seen how it embodies hate. And then someone from your own community posts a flag, a meme, a clip, or a “He tells it like it is” slogan – and it feels like a punch to the chest.For a long time, I didn’t know how to deal with this feeling. 

To my benefit, my third year in political studies endured hefty research on right – wing populist political leaders. Not just their politics, but the psychology behind why people support populist leaders, why they keep using slurs, why they cling to “anti-woke” rhetoric, and why they actively ignore facts that challenge their worldview.

Populism Is About Emotion, Not Policy – and Trump Is a Master of It

One of the most important things I learned in researching Trump’s political appeal – especially through Ernesto Laclau’s discursive approach to populism – is that it has very little to do with concrete policy, and everything to do with identity, emotion, and narrative.

According to Laclau, populism is less about ideology and more about constructing a collective identity – a political “people” – by drawing a dividing line between “us” and “them.” This is exactly what Trump does, over and over again. He constructs a simplistic narrative: the pure, forgotten, hardworking people versus “the corrupt elite”, which includes immigrants, the media and anyone who threatens status quo values.

This “us vs. them” structure isn’t accidental — it’s central. It gives people a sense of belonging and moral clarity. Trump doesn’t need to offer specific policy solutions because he positions himself as the voice of the people — someone who simply reflects their anger, fear, and sense of betrayal back to them in a language that feels emotionally satisfying. He doesn’t speak to the system — he speaks to the feeling of being left out of it. To those who feel economically abandoned, culturally displaced, or politically ignored, this narrative is powerful. It gives them someone to blame — and a leader who promises to fight back.

And when you’re from a place or a community where people have genuinely felt dismissed or devalued this rhetoric doesn’t just land. It resonates. It creates a sense of purpose, identity, and even pride.

However, It doesn’t excuse it. But it does help explain why the appeal is so emotionally enduring — and why simply arguing with facts or policy critiques rarely shifts someone’s loyalty.

When it is People You Know, It Feels Personal – But it’s not Always

When I see someone I know repost a Trump video or share a meme that punches down, it’s hard not to feel it in my chest. Especially when those posts contain slurs, hate speech, or are dripping with racial, homophobic, or xenophobic undertones. It can feel like they’re choosing ignorance. Or choosing hate. 

But here’s something I’ve had to remind myself over and over again: not all support is deeply thought out. In many cases, it’s not even about politics. It’s about belonging. Identity. Frustration. Social media clout. Wanting to be seen as “anti-woke” because it makes you seem edgy or “different.” A lot of people repost content not because they understand the implications, but because it scratches some emotional itch – rebellion, anger, self-protection.

Sometimes they’re mimicking what they see in their own homes, churches, or group chats. Sometimes it’s ignorance. Sometimes it’s fear. And yes – sometimes it’s deeply-held prejudice. But not always.

Understanding that doesn’t make it less harmful. But it can keep you from spiralling into the hopeless, soul-crushing space of everyone is awful.

Why People Still Use Slurs (and How to Protect Your Peace When They Do)

One of the hardest things to witness – especially online – is people casually using slurs or dehumanising language like it’s a joke. Whether it’s racist, homophobic, sexist, transphobic, or just aggressively ignorant, it’s exhausting to see over and over again. And when it’s people you know? It feels like betrayal.

But here’s what I’ve learned about why people still use that kind of language:

• They think it makes them powerful. Using “forbidden” words is a cheap way to signal dominance, rebellion, or edginess – especially in spaces where critical thinking isn’t encouraged.
• They’re desensitised. If no one in their circle ever challenges them, they genuinely may not see it as a problem.
• They want a reaction. People often use offensive language online for engagement – likes, shares, arguments. Outrage is a form of currency.

You don’t have to accept it. You don’t have to ignore it. But you can choose not to let it poison your peace. You should not be responsible for dragging people into awareness who have no interest in being there.

The Role of Confirmation Bias and Lack of Education

As I dug deeper, I also spent time researching confirmation bias and how it locks people into harmful beliefs.

The short version: we all tend to seek out information that confirms what we already believe. But when someone is in an echo chamber –  following the same influencers, watching the same YouTube channels, listening to the same angry voices – it’s nearly impossible for them to see a different perspective, let alone accept it.

If you combine that with a lack of education – not just formal schooling, but media literacy, critical thinking, and civic education – it’s not surprising that people cling to simple, emotional explanations. They were never given the tools to evaluate those ideas critically.

That doesn’t make the impact any less harmful. But it does help explain why “just telling them they’re wrong” almost never works.

Stay Informed, Stay Compassionate, and Let Go of Needing to Fix Everyone

You’re allowed to be frustrated. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to grieve the distance between what you believe and what others support. You can stand firm in your values without needing to educate every person who chooses ignorance. You can stay informed without drowning. You can believe people are capable of change – and choose to walk away from those who refuse to.

Most importantly: your care, your knowledge, and your discomfort? They’re not burdens. They’re signs that you’re still connected to your humanity.