DEMOCRACY: The Strange Comfort of Doom & Gloom

Why People Who Say They Want Democracy Saved Often Resist Hope, And How to Talk to Them Anyway

DEMOCRACY: The Strange Comfort of Doom & Gloom

Why People Who Say They Want Democracy Saved Often Resist Hope, And How to Talk to Them Anyway

The Jack Hopkins Now Newsletter #690: Monday, December 15th, 2025.

Let me tell you something that sounds upside-down…but isn’t.

The people who respond most enthusiastically when you talk about the possible collapse of democracy are often the same people…who grow distant…irritated…or oddly disengaged when you talk about:

“The end of democracy is not certain…and here are real reasons we can still stop it.”

That reaction feels illogical.

After all…
don’t they want democracy saved?

Yes.
They do.

And…that’s exactly why this pattern is so important to understand.

Because if you misread it, you’ll keep doing what almost everyone does—
mistaking agreement for alignment, and validation for mobilization.

This isn’t hypocrisy.
It isn’t cynicism.
It isn’t bad faith.

It’s psychology.

And once you see it clearly…you can stop fighting your own audience…whether it be an audience of one…or an entire room full of people over the Holiday Season…and start communicating in a way that keeps people with you…even when you introduce something as disruptive…as hope. Yes…hope

The Pattern Hiding in Plain Sight

You’ve probably noticed this if you’ve been talking/writing/communicating about democracy for any length of time:

• Dark, pessimistic communication get affirmation

• Dire warnings get engagement

• Articles outlining worst-case scenarios get nods and “yes, exactly” responses

But hopeful pieces…even careful…evidence-based ones…get:

• less participation

• emotional withdrawal

• irritation disguised as “skepticism”

• or quiet disengagement

Hope doesn’t energize these readers.

Hope unsettles them.

And the mistake most communicators make…is assuming that means people like despair.

They don’t.

They like what despair…does for them.

What’s Actually Going On Inside People’s Heads

This behavior isn’t random. It’s driven by a stack of psychological defenses that show up in long-running crises…especially political ones.

Let’s name them.

1. Defensive Pessimism That Becomes Identity

Defensive pessimism starts out innocently enough:

“If I expect the worst, I won’t be caught off guard.”

That’s reasonable in the short term.

But when a crisis drags on…year after year…that mindset hardens.

Pessimism stops being a strategy…
and becomes a marker of seriousness.

Suddenly:

• Optimism equals naivety

• Hope equals denial

• Certainty of collapse equals intelligence

So when you communicate something grim…you’re not just sharing information.

You’re affirming identity.

You’re telling the recipient of your communication:

“You’re not asleep. You see this clearly.”

That feels validating.

Now flip it.

When you communicate:

“This isn’t inevitable.”

You’re not offering comfort.

You’re challenging a self-concept.

You’re implying:

• the future isn’t settled

• action might still matter

• passivity might no longer be morally neutral

That’s destabilizing.

People don’t argue with you.
They disengage.

2. Learned Helplessness-With a Moral Gloss

Here’s a hard truth most people won’t admit out loud:

Many politically aware people are exhausted and ashamed of that exhaustion.

They know the stakes are high.
They know the threat is real.
They also know their own capacity feels limited.

So the mind looks for relief.

And it finds it here:

“If collapse is inevitable, my inability to do more is understandable.”

That belief isn’t laziness.

It’s psychological self-preservation.

When you remove inevitability, you reintroduce:

• responsibility

• choice

• risk

• and the possibility that inaction carries consequences

Hope doesn’t feel inspiring in that moment.

It feels like an accusation.

3. Doom as Emotional Regulation

This is the piece almost no one talks about.

Negative certainty is calming.

Uncertainty keeps the nervous system activated.
Doom closes the loop.

“It’s bad. It’s ending. That’s that.”

There’s a strange peace in that finality.

Hope reopens the loop.

Hope says:

• “Maybe”

• “Not yet”

• “If…”

And if is stressful.

So people gravitate toward communication that allows them to stay braced…rather than engaged.

They’re not seeking despair.

They’re seeking emotional containment.

4. Moral Credentialing Through Despair

In many political spaces, despair has quietly become a moral signal.

To sound alarmed is to sound ethical.
To sound hopeful is to risk sounding unserious.

So despair becomes proof of awareness.

It says:

“I get it. I’m not fooled. I’m not complacent.”

Your darkest communication allows people to perform moral alignment…without being asked to do anything else.

Hope…threatens that arrangement.

Because hope…without action is empty…and hope…with action….demands something.

The Core Insight (This Is the Key)

Strip everything else away and you’re left with this:

People may want democracy saved…but they are psychologically attached to despair…because it stabilizes anxiety…preserves identity…and limits obligation.

Hope threatens all three.

That doesn’t make these people bad allies.

It means they require…a different kind of communication.

Why “Positive Messaging” Fails

Most hopeful writing fails because it commits a fatal error:

It relieves pressure.

You’ve seen it:

• “We’ve been through worse”

• “History bends toward justice”

• “People are waking up”

That kind of hope feels like permission to relax.

And relaxation…is the enemy of action.

So your audience resists…not because they want things to fail…but because they don’t want to be lulled.

The Hopkins Rule for Hope

Here’s the rule I always circle in red:

Hope must feel heavier than despair…or it will be rejected.

Hope must:

• increase responsibility

• narrow the window

• raise the cost of inaction

• feel earned…not gifted

Hope…should not feel soothing.

It should feel sobering.

How to Communicate Without Losing These People

If you want to stay aligned with people who demonstrate this pattern…and still work together to preserve democracy…here’s how.

1. Validate the Fear First

Start here:

“Your fear is justified. Collapse is plausible.”

Don’t rush past it.
Earn trust before you introduce anything else.

2. Introduce Hope as a Burden

Then pivot…not to reassurance…but to obligation:

“Which is exactly why the remaining leverage matters.”

Hope should feel like a weight…not a gift.

3. Make Hope Conditional and Fragile

Never say:

“We’ll be fine.”

Say:

“This only works if enough people do uncomfortable things…soon.”

Tie hope to:

• thresholds

• timelines

• consequences

4. Preserve Their Identity as Realists

Never position hope as the opposite of realism.

Position it as:

“The hardest conclusion realism forces us to confront.”

Make hope…the scarier option.

5. Convert Hope Into Finite Action

Abstract hope triggers anxiety.
Concrete action resolves it.

End with:

• clear steps

• limited scope

• immediate relevance

People don’t fear effort.

They fear infinite obligation.

The Reframe That Works

Here’s the sentence that threads the needle:

“Collapse is possible…but not inevitable. And that means history hasn’t finished assigning responsibility yet.”

That doesn’t soothe.

It sharpens.

The Real Danger

If you only feed people despair, you get:

• agreement without movement

• clarity without courage

• alignment without action

If you offer naïve hope…you lose them entirely.

But if you discipline hope…make it conditional…demanding…and morally serious…you get something rare:

People who stay with you and move.

The Christmas/Holiday Season

With the Holiday season upon us…many of us will be mingling in the same rooms as people who vote the same way we do…

…and who are fearful of what will happen to our country.

So…it’s important to know how to talk to them…in a way that doesn’t make them more fearful, while we think we’re offering them hope.

Because the goal in those conversations…isn’t to reassure anyone.
It’s not to calm them down.
And it’s definitely not to talk them out of their concern.

The goal is to keep them from emotionally shutting the door.

If you lead with optimism…you risk sounding like you don’t understand the danger.
If you lead with platitudes…you risk sounding like you’re trying to soothe yourself.

And…if you lead with “everything will be okay,”…you may accidentally tell them their fear is unwarranted.

Instead, start where they already are.

Acknowledge the risk.
Name the uncertainty.
Respect the seriousness of the moment.

And only then…only then…introduce the idea that uncertainty cuts both ways.

Not as comfort.
As responsibility.

Hope…when handled correctly…doesn’t tell people to relax.
It tells them the outcome is still being written…and that passivity is a choice…not a refuge.

So this holiday season…if you find yourself talking politics across a table or in a living room, remember this:

People don’t need to be talked out of their fear.
They need to be shown how to carry it…without letting it turn into paralysis.

Because despair feels safe.
Hope feels demanding.

And right now…demanding is exactly what the moment requires.

Finally

People don’t resist hope because they don’t care.

They resist hope…because hope asks more of them than despair ever did.

Your job isn’t to make hope comforting.

It’s to make it unavoidable.

#HoldFast

Back soon,

-Jack