I was talking with a friend about the feeling of being relatively small while up against something very big, and the sense of “What can I even do?” The sense that the world is burning, or at the very least smouldering, and even if you or I are privileged enough that the fire hasn’t yet directly reached us, there’s the anxiety of it all around, and the fear of what yet more is coming.

Recent events—the assassination of Charlie Kirk and the regime’s use of Kirk’s death to accelerate its campaign of oppression against anyone who fails to enthusiastically support the MAGA agenda—have ratched this all up, made that feeling of anxiety greater, made the fire feel closer and hotter.

And the question is, what do you do? What do you do in the slide from democracy to autocracy, even if it’s not yet complete, and even if it won’t ever be complete because institutions will, somehow, hold and, eventually, reverse the decline. 

The answer, I think, is two-pronged. And those prongs are pretty familiar ones if you’re a regular reader of my newsletter, or regular listener to my podcast. First, there’s the perspective we ought to bring to the moment. Second, there’s the values we ought to hold, and reaffirm, throughout.

Regarding perspective, there’s a need to fully recognize and assess what we’re up against, and how far along the threat is. Democracy is not yet lost. It’s true that, for now, we no longer live in a constitutional republic. The federal government is operating as if it is already an autocracy, and the Supreme Court is supporting it in that. But the regime is also meeting quite a lot of failures, and lacks both the intelligence and discipline to succeed in many of its aims. What this means is that, at this moment, it hasn’t yet fully consolidated authoritarianism in America, and it very well might never achieve it. The 2026 elections could result in a landslide for Democrats, who could then use the power of the purse to defund most all of the worst of what Trump’s up to. The 2028 election could result in a full scale repudiation of MAGA, and then the question becomes not defeating authoritarianism, but rebuilding after it. (And I’m hopeful that such a rebuilding would offer new opportunities for more radically liberal institutions.) 

But things could go the other way. Trump might figure out how to suppress enough votes in urban areas to prevent a blue wave. Or he might simply refuse to leave office and convince the institutions to support him in that. The point, in fact, is that the proper perspective to bring to this moment, in terms of assessing it and so knowing where to direct our attention and effort, is one of epistemic humility. Things are moving fast, but they’re also chaotic, and it’s impossible to know with any certainty how this all ends up. Be wary of people who tell you otherwise, either from the “we’re already doomed and it’s time to give up” side or the “Trump has already lost” alternative.

There’s another element of proper perspective to keep in mind, as well. And it focuses very much on what to keep in mind. You’ve probably heard of mindfulness, likely in the context of mediation. The Buddhist word for it is “sati.” This gets translated typically as mindfulness, but it’s more specifically “to remember to observe.” That’s what I mean here. It’s easy to get caught up in the latest horror or viral story. Our perspective of assessment can get derailed by letting our attention fixate on what’s less valuable, and to let slip our mind the things we really ought to give that attention to. Yes, this story is making the news now, but let’s not forget about that other one. Yes, everyone is talking about that, but immediate suffering can be more effectively alleviated by putting our effort into this, instead. Etc. This mindfulness—this keeping in mind what we ought to keep in mind—needs to be filtered through a clear understanding of what you or I, in our situation and with our abilities and resources, can most effectively do to help. It might not be raging on social media.

Then there’s values. Our perspective influences our values, and our values influence our perspective. And what’s needed right now, more than in recent memory, is a deep commitment to centering the values of compassion, empathy, and selflessness. We are very much in this moment together, and the only way we get through it is through a spirit of shared concern. Rejecting this is how so many, including so many of the powerful, have gone wrong. If you look around—at politicians, at many business leaders—there’s a self-centered-ness, a willingness to destroy the lives of others for one’s personal gain. To cut side deals with authoritarianism. To keep your head down, to flatter, to hope that fire stays very far away from you personally, and look for ways to maybe find a little warmth in it while it’s here. Such attitudes must be rejected. Both because they are destructive of liberal democracy, and because they are corrosive to liberal values. This is not a time for self-interest at the expense of others. It is a time to do everything each of us can to ensure a future for everyone.

None of this advice can remove that feeling of smallness, at least not entirely. We’re up against something very big and very powerful and very dangerous. We might lose. But we haven’t yet. And there are important places where we’re winning. However things play out—and we’ve got a long way to go—we’ll do better, strategically, tactically, and for our own mental and emotional health, if we put real effort into cultivating and maintaining the right perspective and the right values for this horrible moment.