Worried. Fearful. Scared. Does that describe you too? If not, then it probably describes your neighbor, friend, or in-laws.
For the last nine years, researchers at Chapman University have surveyed a representative sample of Americans, asking them about 90 fears and related behaviors. “Americans live in a culture of fear,” writes lead researcher Christopher D. Bader, describing “moral panics about immigration and gun control to anxiety about terrorism and natural disasters.”
According to their “top 10 list of fears” for 2023, the most prominent national fears include long-standing global concerns like “economic/financial collapse” (55% of people surveyed), nuclear war (53%) and another world war (52%), alongside newer threats like biological warfare (50%) and cyberterrorism (49%).
But Americans also reported being fearful of more universal heartaches such as loved ones becoming seriously ill or dying (50.5%), not having enough money for the future (48%), and even drinking polluted water (50%).
It perhaps shouldn’t surprise us that the highest fear of all was “corrupt government officials” (60%) in an age of widening political fears and polarization.
“I am nervous for the future of our country,” wrote a conservative-leaning American after the recent assassination attempt. “I think Trump is handling this like a warrior, although a bit pompous, but that is Trump. I am taken completely aback by how many people are upset that the shooter missed and are celebrating the attempt.”
Another person who leans liberal wrote, “I was horrified first at the assassination attempt. I was equally horrified at Trump’s raised fist as the first thing out of his mouth was, ‘Fight. ' I am both saddened and quivering, trying to find some hope for our country, democracy, and the world.”
To discuss how to navigate strong political fears, Bill Doherty, a professor at the University of Minnesota and a renowned family therapist, joined Mónica Guzmán, the host of the “Braver Way” podcast, which the Deseret News is helping to promote, in partnership with KUOW, Seattle’s NPR news station.
The conversation highlighted interesting ways that a calm, generous approach to fear might help draw us together more as citizens — rather than only pushing us apart further.
Both sides are scared
“People on both sides are afraid,” Doherty said — emphasizing this awareness was “really important” since people so commonly dismiss the fears of their political opposite as silly or unfounded.
On one side, Doherty summarized, there is sincere fear among many on the left that a victory by former President Donald Trump could mean “we’ll have a dictator, we’ll have somebody who won’t leave office, who will suspend the Constitution, and go after journalists and others and try to imprison them.”
On the other side, he said, are fears that if the “progressive left succeeds in taking over the Democratic Party, that in addition to the left owning the culture, universities, Hollywood, the arts, the culture, they’ll own the government — with an agenda of rooting out the people with more conservative views … and that overall, that government will grow and grow in power and really take away liberties.”
“So, both sides are afraid of losing their liberty,” Doherty summarized, ”and losing their country.”
Both sides? What could it mean if more Americans appreciated exactly this — that both sides of the political divide were deeply worried about a country they each genuinely loved?
Even if those specific fears (and accompanying solutions) diverged sharply — that intensity both of fear and love of country may offer at least one legitimate toehold for common ground to be found.
If we could actually see it. The first step, according to Doherty, is exactly that:
1. Acknowledging the real fears
At the very first Braver Angels workshop in December of 2016, involving 10 Trump supporters and 10 Hillary Clinton supporters, Doherty described one of the Trump supporters afterward saying their main takeaway was that “the fears of (liberals) about Trump were real.”
Previously, this conservative woman explained, she told herself “they’re bad losers.” On the other hand, the professor said, left-leaning voters may be tempted to think, “Oh, c’mon, they don’t really believe that the Democrats over time would take away their liberties.”
That kind of skepticism melted away when this Trump-supporting woman listened to a grandmother say with tears, “I’m afraid for the future of my grandchildren.”
It’s precisely this kind of a more personal connection that can help people on both sides overcome knee-jerk dismissal of others’ worries — wherein they hear the fears on the other side and say, “Oh, come on, come on.”
Similar to common mental health advice for navigating real-life anxieties, a beginning step with political fears is simply accepting and acknowledging the reality of the feelings. “They’re from somewhere, and they’re not hallucinations, okay?” Doherty said.
“And understand that the other side isn’t hallucinating either — I have fears, other people have fears, they’re real.”
2. Showing compassion for those gripped by fear
Doherty compares American political fears today to stumbling into a thicket between a mama bear and her cubs, with the threat on your life coming because she is “afraid for the lives of her cubs and she’s going to take you out.”
“Not because she’s inherently aggressive, because she is afraid.”
In other words, fear serves an important purpose, helping orient us (and bears) to real dangers in our environment. In that vein, Guzmán suggested that even more important than who wins the election is the concern: “How do we make sure our democratic republic doesn’t lose?”
As legitimate as that fear is, however, she points out that fears that become excessive can trip us all up. As Guzmán puts it, “It’s really hard to work together on questions like that, when what the other side could do really, truly scares you.”
“I have great fear of a Trump win because I think he is a dangerous man and great fear of a Trump loss because he will rally more violence,” one woman wrote Guzmán. This podcast listener added, “I am making an effort to understand my conservative friends. But I can’t let go of this fear.”
3. Be courageous enough to question fears
Like other intense emotions, fear doesn’t let go easily. And the longer it holds on, it can drain people emotionally — triggering depression, anxiety and physical health problems. Fear can also complicate decision-making and corrode relationships and overall social trust.
The Chapman researchers also point out that “politicians often effectively leverage fears to garner votes and companies routinely market unnecessary products that promise protection from imagined or exaggerated harms.”
So, what more can we do to not be so dominated by these fears?
Acknowledging fear isn’t the same as validating and legitimizing it completely, Doherty makes clear. There’s still room — and an important need — for scrutinizing those same fears and “rationally questioning your own rhetoric,” as the seasoned therapist puts it.
That means asking sensible questions about the scope, boundaries and specifics about what people fear. It also means getting clear about what exactly those fears are.
4. Get specific
Rather than vague generalities about the nation being irreparably “doomed” if the other candidate wins, Doherty suggests being more “specific in what you’re saying” — for instance, “I am concerned about where the next president will take the Supreme Court” or “I’m concerned about the independence of the judiciary” — which can lead to more focused problem-solving and action.
Or, one might discuss more specifically “the use of the presidency against political opponents because,” he said, “many people on the right really do believe that Biden and the Democrats have gone after Trump (trying) to take him out by imprisonment.”
”It’s a strongly held belief,” Doherty said, with liberals holding another strongly-held belief, he notes, “that Trump will try to do the same thing.”
Try having a conversation about the use of the judicial system, Doherty suggests, as “opposed to (addressing) our whole democracy, our whole way of life ... “That’s too broad to get one’s hands around.”
Among other things, the overly-broad language can confuse “rhetoric with behavior,” he suggested — automatically interpreting any “anti-democratic rhetoric” as if it’s all going to happen.
Where specific practical concerns exist, Doherty continued, a specific discussion can orient people to focus on what he calls “guardrails.”
“Figure out how you’re going to be part of guardrails. What are the guardrails that are in place? Some of those are institutional, and some of those are the press, and some of those are citizens mobilizing.”
The lingering fear about reducing fear
Whatever mental health and relational benefits may come from mindfully navigating fears like this, Guzmán raised one nagging fear that many people have about these attempts to reduce fears.
“I truly want to bring down the temperature in the discussion,” said one podcast listener. “I believe it’s dangerous to make apocalyptic remarks about democracy being doomed if the other guy wins. I get that it can create a climate that pushes folks to violence, but I also want to talk about real threats as I see them from the other side. I believe they are anti-democratic and dangerous. How do I do this?”
As illustrated here, there is a fear among some “that by toning down that rhetoric, you’re toning down the truth,” Guzmán added. “That we need to be honest about an awful threat to keep it from destroying us.”
Simply put, is it really that smart to turn down the rhetoric about something that could destroy America?
‘It matters to me, because it matters to you.’
This is where honest, high-quality dialogue can help the most, because as long as people aren’t beating each other over the heads with clubs (real or rhetorical), this can become a space where real fears and frustrations can be heard, be that about democracy being threatened or a particular policy or issue.
And that almost always reduces the temperature and the heated feelings and the heavy fears.
In other words, real fears don’t have to get ignored or shelved. They can be heard. And explored. And processed.
And maybe even become a chance to draw hearts together — like a conservative man who finally listens to his liberal friend’s concerns about climate change.
We’ve seen that happen before: Guzmán, Doherty, and me, too. Even when the listening person isn’t persuaded that the worries of their political opposite are legitimate, one thing is very real: the feelings of fear in the person in front of them.
Even when minds are still far apart, we’ve seen time and time again how the feelings of growing care between two people can draw them together when they open their hearts to each other.
“Hey, I don’t share your same views about that. But I can see you’re really scared about it. And I genuinely care about you. So it matters to me too.”
A small miracle. But a miracle we need a lot more of right now in America.