“There are no permanent majorities.”
That line, echoing after last week’s election results, serves as more than just political commentary. It’s a moral reminder, especially for journalists, of the importance of our work.
When Both Sides Fail the People
If the recent government shutdown proved anything, it’s that dysfunction knows no party. It takes both sides to make poor decisions that harm people.
While Americans worried about paychecks and medical bills, elected officials engaged in ideological theater, scoring points rather than solving problems.
Most citizens only get to vote on the quality of life in America every few years. Between elections, politicians live in their own insulated world, too wrapped in tribal ideology and grievance to remember who sent them there.
“We know the system is broken,” philosopher Slavoj Žižek wrote, “but we participate anyway, pretending it’s normal.”
That’s what Žižek calls enlightened false consciousness — knowing the truth but doing nothing. It’s how ideology hides in plain sight, disguised as pragmatism while the public interest diminishes.
Journalists: The People’s Representatives
In a democracy, journalists fulfill a civic role as vital as the ballot box. We are not neutral about democracy itself. We support the public’s right to know, to question, and to be heard.
As Ben Bradlee said, “The truth, no matter how bad it is, doesn’t hurt as much as being lied to.”
Žižek reminds us that ideology depends on selective truth, on what power chooses to omit. Journalism’s role is to uncover what’s missing, reveal illusions, and make the unseen visible.
We’re not there to celebrate winners or comfort losers. We’re there to record what victory signifies, what power accomplishes, and what moral lessons arise once the noise subsides.
Chaos Is Not Leadership
Authoritarian posturing, grievance politics, and personality cults may energize a base, but they rarely uphold a democracy.
Žižek describes our era as “the theater of ideology,” where governance becomes a performance and emotion replaces reason. When politics turns into reality TV, there’s no room left for the people’s business, the economy, fairness, and community trust.
“When politics becomes performance, there’s no oxygen left for governing.”
Our duty as journalists is to assist citizens in distinguishing between leadership and spectacle, between those who make a difference and those who distract.
Public Office Is a Public Trust
Elected office is not a bully pulpit for self-glorification, a platform for revenge, or a vehicle for personal enrichment.
Leadership means stewardship, managing the public trust honorably, protecting institutions carefully, and acting with conscience even when it’s inconvenient.
The oath of office doesn’t promise loyalty to a party or individual; it promises allegiance to the Constitution and the common good.
The Moral of the Moment
For journalists, the election’s aftermath is when our real work begins, shifting focus from the contest to its consequences. The next election is just around the corner. The record-long shutdown seems poised to end soon, or may even be over by the time you read this column.
Democracy doesn’t require perfection; it requires accountability and humility from leaders and from us.
Majorities come and go, but honesty and decency should stay constant. When power turns into a trophy rather than a trust, journalists must remind the public of what’s at stake.
Žižek warns that ideology’s biggest trick is making self-interest seem like a principle. Journalism’s main goal is to reveal that illusion, offering not flattery but a clear view.
In the end, “no permanent majorities” isn’t a warning; it’s a promise. It signifies that the people stay in control. And as long as journalists keep asking the right questions, democracy stays alive, loud, and wonderfully incomplete.