During the week of Thanksgiving, I spent many hours with Ellen, my ten-year-old daughter, transitioning her bedroom from kid to tween. We cleaned out clothes that don’t fit, books that she’s beyond, and what felt like thousands of tiny trinkets. Near the end of the last day, she put a hand on my shoulder and asked, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very patient?” I smiled, thanked her, and kept going. Like any mom would, I sobbed about it in the shower after she went to bed.
Observations from your children always hit different. This one really landed. Ellen was naming the lesson that 2025 has been trying to teach me.
When I strip away the specifics, the truth is obvious: I’ve spent this year battling deep and abiding cynicism.
I did not want to live 2017 again. I believed America would not choose to live it again. Here we are, experiencing 2017’s evil twin. Instead of allowing myself to feel reasonable emotions about that, I’ve just felt cynicism knocking on my heart’s door.
We’ve been celebrating ten years of making Pantsuit Politics at a time which should be so exciting, so rewarding. I have struggled to believe that nuanced or grace-filled conversations are possible, desirable, or relevant anymore. Add to this struggle the fact that podcasting itself has transformed into endless, discursive, derivative TV. Virality is the industry objective, so we’re all striving to become diseases. In another year, I might have some kind of career malaise about this. I might desire to change our business or myself or the industry as a whole. Instead: knock, knock; it’s cynicism.
I have struggled with relationships. I have struggled in my church. I have struggled with listener mail. I have struggled with professional friends and associations. For my entire life, I’ve championed earnestness and optimism. A listener once described me as a voice that asked him to “pass out grace like Halloween candy.” Now I find myself questioning everyone’s motives about everything, defaulting to the idea that people are a) entirely self-interested or b) so self-absorbed that they lack capacity for others.
The current government doesn’t help. Every time I listen to Karoline Leavitt or look at a .gov website or read about Jared Kushner’s involvement in foreign policy, I hear cynicism’s knock. I struggle to believe that the administration actually cares about the people of Venezuela, desires a just outcome for Ukraine, or musters any concern whatsoever for the cost of healthcare. I woke up in the middle of the night this week, wondering who’s getting rich from the decision to stop minting pennies.
As children often do, Ellen clarified the stakes for me. From a dictionary perspective, the opposite of cynicism is idealism. From a life perspective, the opposite of the kind of cynicism I’m battling is patience.
Cynicism tempts me as an emotional and intellectual shortcut. I don’t want to feel cellularly angry or sad or worried or disillusioned. It’s easier to write people off as kind-of-the-worst. I don’t want to imagine how I might be pleasantly or catastrophically surprised by the ramifications of today’s decisions. It’s easier to roll my eyes, act unsurprised, and say “of course.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very patient?” It’s the best compliment. It rolls up a host of decisions and actions: You decided not to skip to the ending. You were humble. You knew what you didn’t know. You allowed change to unfold. You stayed put, even when the seat was hot and miserable. You loved enough to hold your horses.
I tried hard this year to be patient instead of cynical. I failed in a million ways. I am still trying.
This Week’s Low Stakes Controversy
If you answered: “I want to can, but can’t,” “My brain is all Christmas lights” or “Raccoon in the liquor store,” our Spicy Bonus episode this week is just for you.
If you’re in the “FOCUS PEOPLE” camp: Beth did deep dives into Venezuela and Indiana Redistricting this week. Even though the topics were hard, we were proud of our episodes with Julie K. Brown about the release of the Epstein Files and with Simon Bazelon about how Democrats can win. Your support (even if you want to can but literally cannot) makes it possible for us to have conversations that matter.
What We’re Reading this Week
Sarah: Will 2026 be the year of the slow read? With Simon Haisell
Beth: When Infrastructure Becomes Destiny (Teaching in the Age of AI)
Maggie: The Olivia Nuzzi and RFK Jr. Affair Is Messier Than We Ever Could Have Imagined (The Ringer)
Coming Soon on Pantsuit Politics: Fully Alive: Tending to the Soul in Turbulent Times by
Copyright (C) 2025 Pantsuit Politics. All rights reserved.