Americans who felt more financially squeezed at the time of the election voted overwhelmingly for Donald Trump over Kamala Harris. It’s clear that working-class support for Trump is more multiracial and multigenerational this time than in 2020, eroding Democrats’ traditional advantage.
I am not surprised that deep-seated financial insecurity made class identity prominent for working-class people from diverse backgrounds regardless of their race and ethnicity, age, and gender.
The social class gap in opportunity isn’t recent. It has been widening since neoliberalism became the dominant ideology in the 1980s, shaping political and economic policies. A good society, according to neoliberalism, is one that privatizes public resources and property, privileges free market and trade, reduces government spending on social safety nets, and minimizes regulation of businesses. Decades of neoliberal policies have been associated with yawning inequalities in income, health, and education, crushing middle- and working-class people whose pent-up despair and rage was recognized and used by Trump.
Only then will we see the wallpaper: unspoken norms and customs, stories that signal who is valued and who is not, and the physical design of places that keep us apart. It’s the stuff in the background that’s barely noticed. And, yet, it nudges our thoughts and actions, quietly creating and reinforcing inequalities. With real conversations come “a-ha” moments, empathy, weakening stereotypes, and friendships. Behind the stories, we may see structural barriers that were previously invisible.
When people have genuine conversations across group lines, listen actively, interact often, and feel empathy, there’s an increased desire to act together on issues of shared interest in local communities, motivated by solidarity, to meet the needs of the vulnerable.
As Canadians celebrated Trump's inauguration with block parties, we must consider learning from the available lessons.
William Perry
Victoria
