Each of us Americans conducts our daily life in bubbles, all shockingly siloed from each other. These days, we don’t share much common ground between our circumscribed worlds based on culture, zip code, religion, and political beliefs.
We feel empathy toward others inside our comfortable corrals. But too often, mutual support doesn’t reach outward. Mistrust replaces compassion.
I spent late April in my conservationist bubble. Since the first Earth Day in 1970, I’ve tried to take stock of how we’re treating our home planet. For this year’s “Earth Week,” I celebrated past successes rather than present catastrophes.
I was on a radio panel recounting unlikely partnerships that led to the protection of public lands. I attended an event honoring Dave Livermore for a lifetime of Nature Conservancy triumphs in Nevada and Utah. And I delighted in an exhibit of photographs of Glen Canyon, emerging from drought-diminished Lake Powell.
For a few moments, my compatriots and I relaxed inside our green bubble.
Then we looked outward and found Interior Secretary Doug Burgum operating from starkly different values. As a wildly successful businessman, Burgum lives in a bubble of unimaginable wealth and power. In his confirmation hearings, he called America’s public lands “assets” on the “national balance sheet.”
Secretary Burgum had no qualms about delegating nearly all administrative decisions to a former oil executive turned DOGE operative. His Interior Department has abandoned regulations that protect our health, water and land in order to fast-track mining operations to demonstrate compliance with decades of settled environmental law.
The secretary is preparing to eviscerate six national monuments. He’s talking about transferring public lands to the states for development and disposal. He sounds eager to turn our cherished public lands into cash cows churning out billions to cover a national debt accelerated by tax cuts for the wealthy.
Ensconced in a bubble of their own, Trump administration officials believe they have a mandate to act without opposition. Their certainty is an illusion. Four in five self-identified MAGA voters want to keep existing national monuments, and 85 percent of Utahns prefer rangers, scientists and firefighters to make decisions about public lands, water and wildlife, not political appointees from industry.
Every day brings new blows to our nation, and not just to public lands and national parks. Scientific research, the arts, the humanities, veterans’ health, services for Medicare and Medicaid clients, food for the hungry, international aid, climate action—all are all under attack.
President Trump’s supporters cheer his actions, paying attention to media that mostly tell incomplete stories. Their opponents, turning to legacy media for their news, rally against what seems the president’s vindictiveness. The courts push back against the administration’s disdain for the law, pausing 180 of their initiatives.
We won’t escape this impasse until we somehow pop our bubbles. We won’t be able to resist Trump’s drive toward authoritarianism without talking to each other, young and old, finding shreds of common ground across the infinitely varied spectrum of America.
To create a national movement to counter Trump’s chaos and cruelty, our society needs more of what Robert Putnam, author of Bowling Alone, calls “social capital.” We’ve lost the cross-bubble associations we had in the mid-20th century, the clubs, churches, unions and neighborhoods that connected us across class and culture.
Putnam documents today’s “political polarization, economic inequality, social isolation and cultural self-centeredness,” the consequence, in part, of our separate bubbles—and major reasons that Donald Trump won the election. To connect, to pierce our bubbles and build social capital, Putnam advises us to “join or die.” Reciprocity builds social capital, and social capital builds trust.
What makes democracy work? Community. But now, AmeriCorps volunteers have been terminated. The Peace Corps may be next. We are losing every program that brings us together.
Still, the diversity and number of citizens who have resolved to march in protest give me hope. Their chants ring in our streets:
“The people united will never be defeated.”
“The power of the people is greater than the people in power.”
“Democracy is not a state, it is an act.”
An act takes actors, and every one of us has a role. I’m taking heart in this cast of millions. We’re connecting, we’re finding allies. And as we do so, the people in power will have no choice but to listen.
Stephen Trimble is a contributor to Writers on the Range, writersontherange.org, an independent nonprofit dedicated to spurring lively conversation about the West. He is a writer and photographer who lives in Utah.
Thank you for this. Here in San Marcos, Tx, a city of about 60,000, we had 1200+ people come out on Saturday for No Kings Day. Most folks who drove by the town square where we were marching honked in support. It was glorious. Many I talked to were impressed by the diversity of the crowd. This breaking of the bubble is happening. It’s slow, but I’m beginning to see the signs. As you note here, it HAS to happen.
Hey Ray, Excellent article, both content and writing. I agree with Stephan in that he seems very involved in causes of his interest and also willing to connect with others with a different point of view. The only way to fix these things is to get together and talk about it. Even if you have the power to ram something down an opponent’s throat, they’re likely to come back and reverse the outcome another day. So then you’ve got 2 rammed throats and no solution. Thanks for sharing this, Ray. I’m working on taking my own advice. Bill