Let me explain something again for the liberals who keep confusing progressive politics with a cult of personality.
Ahem.
We do not give a fuck about worshipping politicians. We care about what they do.
If Trump delivered humane, progressive policies that materially improved people’s lives, I would acknowledge those accomplishments. That would not require me to excuse everything else about him.
When Biden was president, I wanted him to succeed. I wanted an administration willing to meet the scale of the problems facing us. Give us the ambition associated with FDR’s New Deal or LBJ’s Great Society (without the devastating and unjust war, of course), and I would have plenty to praise.
But wanting a president to succeed does not mean pretending that everything they do is enough.
And voting for someone does not mean surrendering the right to criticize them.
That was true when I wrote the original version of this post. It is still true now.
I am tired of people treating progressive demands as unreasonable while expecting us to accept political responses that fall short of the conditions we are living through.
People cannot afford housing. They struggle to get healthcare. They work themselves into exhaustion and still cannot establish financial security. Racism continues to shape their opportunities and treatment. Environmental threats keep demanding action.
Then we get told to be patient, lower our expectations, and remember how much worse the other side would be.
We know the other side is worse. What the fuck are you going to do about the problems we elected you to address?
That question should not cause this much damn discomfort.
I am not opposed to every smaller improvement. If a policy helps people today, that matters. What I reject is treating incrementalism as the permanent ceiling on what we can demand.
A partial victory should give us something to build on. It should not become an excuse to declare the work finished or tell the people who are still struggling that they are asking for too much.
Too often, “be realistic” means accepting that the people with power will remain comfortable while everyone else adjusts to insecurity.
I do not accept that as a political goal.
And no, Bernie Sanders is not a messiah.
He became important to many of us because he gave national attention to policies and grievances that other politicians dismissed. He spoke about healthcare, wages, education, corporate power, and the lives of people who felt unseen.
That is why we supported him. His appeal came from what he advocated and what he appeared willing to fight for.
Sanders is fallible. He has disappointed people on the left, including me. When he does, he gets criticized too.
The same should apply to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, any other progressive politician, and whoever comes next. Nobody gets to substitute their name or reputation for accountability.
If a politician abandons the commitments that earned our support, we have every right to challenge them. That is political consistency.
I wanted Biden to be a good progressive president. I wanted him to deliver. I wanted the people who voted for him to have something meaningful to show for it.
I also wanted the United States to confront its racism. Wanting that did not require me to pretend we had already achieved it.
The same principle applies to an administration. I can want it to succeed and still refuse to accept inadequate responses to real problems.
People’s lives cannot be managed as though the goal is to keep them just hopeful enough to make it to the next election cycle.
They need relief. They need security. They need power over the conditions shaping their lives.
And they need more than a lecture about how complicated everything is.
Yes, governing is complicated. There are institutional barriers, hostile courts, narrow majorities, and opponents who will obstruct whatever they can. Those things deserve serious consideration. They really do.
But an explanation should help us understand what happened, what was attempted, and what needs to change. It should not shut down every question about whether leadership could have done more.
I hate excuses that make no logical sense. I hate watching people dodge simple questions about matters they are supposed to understand. I hate the double-speak that turns failure into strategy and criticism into disloyalty.
And I cannot stand the dismissive attitude toward corruption, donor influence, and the conflicts between what politicians promise voters and what they protect once they hold office.
Do not tell me I am being unreasonable for noticing those conflicts.
Policies are important. Policies are important. Policies are very important.
And actions are more important, especially when the country is watching how politicians move.
A platform tells me what you claim to support. Your actions tell me what you are willing to pursue, defend, compromise, or abandon.
That is what I am watching and paying the most attention to.
When Biden was president, many of us criticizing him had voted for him in the general election. We understood the choice before us. We made that choice.
But our votes were not promises to remain silent.
We did not agree to applaud every compromise, excuse every disappointment, or defend the administration against the very people whose needs it was supposed to serve.
We voted to put someone in office. Then we expected them to do the work.
That standard survives Biden’s presidency. It applies to the current administration, to Democratic leadership, and to every future candidate asking for our support.
You are not owed our devotion. You are accountable for what you do with our votes.
We have to keep holding their feet to the fire. Organize. Ask the questions. Make the demands. Recognize the gains, and keep pushing where the work falls short.
Because if we stop demanding accountability, the people in power have every reason to keep giving us less… and expecting us to thank them for it.