The Resistance and the Moderates

How I'm thinking about opposing an unacceptable administration

This week on Pantsuit Politics and Good Morning, Sarah discussed a growing sentiment among certain commentators that she shares. To paraphrase: “The ‘resistance libs’ were right, and we should have listened to them.” I hear a sense, echoed by some listeners, that we’ve been too moderate, that the harshest voices have the highest ground, that we’ve gotten it wrong.

I’ve been listening and processing. I’m naturally inclined to change my mind when I get new information. I’ve pivoted so often and apologized so frequently that it’s almost comfortable. Being human and fallible costs me nothing and sets me free. If I feel I’ve made a mistake, I want to say so with my entire voice.

This time, I don’t feel it.

With everything going on, who cares?

This is hardly the most important topic to unpack. But I feel compelled to share my reflections because it’s an election year. I don’t think anyone is genuinely arguing that, if only more commentators signed on to #TheResistance, we’d live in a fundamentally different world right now. The argument is over how to effectively oppose the darkest excesses of Trumpism. That question couldn’t be more relevant or urgent.

Help, I’m thinking about Joe Rogan again

For the past year, things have been tense here at Pantsuit Politics. We’ve been counter-cultural. The podcasting world, such as it is, is currently dominated by pleasant celebrity chats. Drop in on the most popular podcasts, especially for women, and you’ll hear a version of:

Host: You’re amazing!

Guest: Not as amazing as you!

Host: Ok, now tell me about your favorite dental floss, because this is such a funny story…

Of course, I’m being flippant, but this isn’t really criticism. I get it. It’s fun to listen to people having fun! The deep moments that really grab people in these celebrity shows go down smoothly because they are couched so gently. They are wrapped in a warm blanket of easy relationship.

This is also why Joe Rogan is such a juggernaut. He likes people, and he’s having a good time. He sits down with a wide range of guests he thinks are interesting and simply…expresses his interest in them. Sometimes they trash other people, but that’s just man-gossip, which is also fun. I don’t make the rules; we are wired for this kind of human connection.

Our show, meanwhile, has been tense because we’ve been soul-searching, for ourselves and for the Democratic Party. The driving question in most of our shows last year could best be expressed in a visceral and prolonged scream: Trump again? How? Why? What do we do to prevent this from continuing? Trying to answer those questions has created conflict within us, between us, among us, and with our audience. Sustained conflict is tough to experience. It’s tough to listen to, especially while you’re driving to work, folding laundry, or hitting the elliptical. I appreciate that you have stayed with us through it.

Help, I’m also still thinking about Gavin Newsom

A significant source of conflict for me over the past year arose as I took in punditry and analysis that advocated for the Democratic Party to moderate its positions. You’d think that would be speaking my language. Instead, it has hit me wrong at every turn.

It was wild to watch Governor Gavin Newsom pondering the musings of Steve Bannon. Sarah admired Governor Newsom’s quest. I’ve found it completely off-putting. That’s just one example of a tension I struggled to put words around all year. We’ve built this podcast around the value of listening to contrary views, making room at the table for everyone, having a sense of civic grace toward each other. Why has it felt so awful to me to hear leading Democrats say a version of, “but maybe those guys have a point?”

It’s hitting me in January 2026 (I’m not always a quick study, friends!). It felt awful because it’s the same thing in a new package. It is still a desire for one right answer to every question. It’s “we had the wrong answer for the electorate about trans athletes! Let’s get the right answer and repeat it everywhere!” and “we had the wrong answer about inflation! Let’s get the right answer and hammer away at it!”

This is a worldview that says, pragmatically and with mostly good intentions: politics has become campaigning, and campaigning has become straight-up advertising, and advertising requires a simple message repeated constantly.

But politics is how we live in community, and believing that you have one right answer for everything is not very communal.

Which brings me (at last!) to the “resistance libs.” In principle, I’ve had few substantive disagreements with people who’ve predicted the absolute worst about a Trump presidency. I’ve never said or believed that members of Congress should acquiesce to President Trump. The risks of authoritarianism, fascism, and patrimonialism have been clear and obvious since he announced his first candidacy.

Sarah and Beth in 2016

I’ve disagreed with the posture, with the sense of inevitability: “if America elects Trump, all is lost.” The risks were clear and obvious, but the outcomes are not predetermined. We are living a version of the resistance libs’ predictions, not through fate, but through a series of choices.

Our courts have constrained the President, but not enough. Federalism is a massive brake on executive power, but too many Republican legislatures and governors decided to cast their electoral lot with MAGA. Our Constitution was up for the job. Impeachment, removal, and prohibition on seeking office again are right there in the text. Congress hasn’t lived up to its responsibilities, and the American public at large haven’t persistently demanded that the first branch of government wake up.

I use words carefully because I believe in our ongoing power to choose otherwise.

People who disagree with my posture urge me to use my platform. They think it’s been irresponsible to exercise any amount of patience or restraint in calling him out. Here again is the theory: “If more people had said that Trump is a fascist from the beginning, he wouldn’t be in office having his personal paramilitary force occupy American cities.”

Respectfully, I disagree. The world has not been lacking for strong, authoritative voices pronouncing Donald Trump a dictator and laying out the worst-case scenarios for his tenure. Those voices are important. They are, in many ways, effective. They are genuine, and I respect them.

It’s also effective for some of us to hold our powder. Being careful influences another set of people. This week, I’ve heard a lot of versions of “okay, if you are saying it’s this bad, then I know it’s this bad.” That’s a different form of effectiveness. There’s room for both and more. One is not more moral than the other. One is not more serious than the other. We need everyone in every lane doing what they can authentically do.

What’s moderate anyway?

The kind of moderation I value isn’t actually centrism. It’s plurality. Keep it nuanced, because it always is.

My views about President Trump are not actually centrist. I would never trade democratic norms for a stronger economy. I don’t tolerate his lies because I think an orderly southern border is important. I hate the self-interested foreign policy, even when it leads to a positive short-term outcome.

Like most Americans, I’m a walking pluralist, a set of inherent contradictions and policy mixtures. My views on criminal justice are interpreted as “extreme left.” The more complete story is that those views are born both of my bleeding heart and my libertarian sensibilities about government power. The same is true about my immigration views. I believe in a very welcoming immigration policy because of my compassion for others and my sense that moving around this earth is a fundamental human right that governments should restrain with restraint.

I’m a moderate because it’s ok with me if you disagree. If I were a member of Congress and so were you, I’d be willing to compromise on most of my views. This is a big country with a lot of diverging philosophies. Purity accomplishes little and often leads to tyranny.

I would like the Democratic Party to moderate. I don’t mean: become more centrist on certain policies in order to appeal to a fictional median voter in a particular Wisconsin district. I mean be more pluralistic in its ethos. Democrats in Congress have done this pretty well during my lifetime. The “brand” has failed because it’s worked so hard to be a brand.

Help, I’m back to Joe Rogan

Politicians who captivate the public are pluralists. They are often surprising. People wanted to have a beer with George W. Bush in large part because of that “compassionate conservatism” he touted. Bill Clinton and Barack Obama talked surprisingly tough on a range of issues. These presidents were both genuine leaders of their parties and genuine disruptors of the public conception of those parties, at least for a moment, for long enough to win, twice. Donald Trump’s hostile takeover of the Republican party succeeded by abandoning most Republican orthodoxy. People like variety because, as we say all the time, they contain multitudes.

This brings me back to Joe Rogan’s appeal. He’s a pluralist. He’s surprising. He’s malleable. He’s listening. He makes room for everyone from MAHA influencers to James Talarico.

Please don’t misunderstand me -- I don’t think Rogan is the hero our times need. I think there are things to learn from his popularity for a party that badly needs to be more popular in order to effectively oppose the darkest excesses of Trumpism.

The Democratic Party, broadly, comes across as scolding, the HR department, fill in your preferred insult, because it is searching for one correct answer. Because too many Democratic leaders show up for every conversation with a hard thesis then spend the conversation hammering away at that thesis. They give no ground. They don’t seem curious or humble or willing to rethink a point

It pisses Democrats off to hear this given the fealty of Republicans to Donald Trump. I get that. Still, I have to honestly acknowledge that there’s real pluralism in the MAGA tent. Every disagreement is tolerable as long as you ultimately think Trump is awesome and worth compromising for. It’s a low bar for belonging. As Maggie says, all you need is a red hat. The bar on the other side of the aisle has been exceptionally high.

I hate where we are as a country right now. For most of January, I’ve felt physically ill. If marching in lockstep with anyone who feels the same way would help, I’d do it. But I think that’s exactly the wrong prescription for this moment.

I believe Democrats winning in November is imperative--not because I think Democrats are all great or have all the answers, and not because I think all Republicans are terrible. I think a Democratic wave in the midterms is the only language this administration will understand. To win, I think some Democrats should remain resistance libs because that’s who they are. Others should focus on completely local issues. I love that Mary Peltola talks about fish as her first priority. That’s who she is and what her state needs. Other Democrats should be centrists because that’s who they are. Still others should hammer away at the billionaire class because that’s who they are. The message from the party should be as pluralist as possible because America is all of it.

And because it needs to be appealing, popular, sticky, they and we and everyone should have as much fun as possible Gossip a little. Sandwich in some “oh my God, you’re amazing, no, you are.” God knows we need to wrap ourselves in some easy relationships.