One of the most concerning issues in today’s political landscape is the raging polarization. We’re no longer just disagreeing with the other side; we pledge unwavering and total allegiance to our own. We’ve become so divided that it seems impossible to have a genuine conversation across party lines. The result? We’re trapped in an echo chamber where everyone shouts, but no one listens.
On both the left and the right, people have grown terrified of criticizing their own party, no matter how wrong or misguided some of its actions may be. Why? Because we know exactly what will happen: the other side will pounce on that criticism and weaponize it. Instead of recognizing a healthy debate as a sign of strength within a party, it becomes a tool for the opposition to paint the entire group as flawed or hypocritical.
This fear of giving ammunition to the other side creates a culture where no one dares to speak up when something’s wrong. The idea of “staying on message” has become more important than actually addressing critical issues. And when criticism is stifled, so is progress. This is not a sign of unity, it’s a sign of weakness. A democracy thrives on the free exchange of ideas, including dissenting ones. If we can’t criticize our own without fearing retribution from the other side, we’ve lost the ability to engage in real discourse.
I’ll admit—I’m guilty of this too. I post memes that criticize the right because I strongly disagree with a lot of their policies. And with the US Elections at stake, I am more at it than ever. But in doing so, I do contribute to the problem. I’m adding fuel to the fire of polarization, and it’s something I’m increasingly aware of. It’s easy to get caught up in the us-versus-them mentality when emotions are high, and it feels like there’s so much at stake. But every time we oversimplify the other side with memes, we make it harder for real conversations to happen. We dehumanize each other, and that only deepens the divide.
Recent events in the House of Commons illustrate how out of control this situation has become. When Greg Fergus, the newly appointed Speaker, took on his role, there were high hopes that he might be able to bring order back to a parliament increasingly plagued by division and chaos. But the truth is, there’s no control left to be had—not for Fergus, and maybe not for anyone. The House of Commons has become a battleground where dignity and decorum are nowhere to be found. Instead of rational debate, we see heckling, interruptions, and name-calling. The behavior is more fitting for a schoolyard than the halls of Parliament. It’s no wonder that Fergus has struggled to maintain control. No one, it seems, could in the current climate.
Rather than focusing on substantive issues, the two sides are locked in a battle of partisan warfare. The role of the Speaker, meant to ensure fairness and maintain decorum, is diminished when polarization drives everything to the extremes. Fergus, despite his best efforts, cannot rein in the intense emotions and division that have taken hold of the House. It’s a perfect example of how this polarization, if left unchecked, will ultimately erode our political institutions. We’re watching it happen in real-time, and yet no one seems willing to step back and say, “Enough.”
This kind of polarization doesn’t just damage political parties; it tears communities apart. Friends, families, and neighbors are now finding it harder to have conversations without things escalating into heated arguments. We’ve become so afraid of being labeled traitors to our cause that we’ve forgotten the importance of listening to one another and finding common ground. It’s funny because most of us actually agree on the big issues that need fixing in this country, like healthcare, education, environment and immigration. Whether you’re on the left or right, we all know there’s work to be done. The real disagreement is about how to solve these problems.
I get it, I know what you’re thinking. You’ll say, “The right is attacking my reproductive rights,” or “The left is too woke and trying to make my kids gay.” But isn’t that exactly why we’re in this situation in the first place?
If we continue down this path, the divide will only widen. And the further apart we grow, the harder it will be to rebuild any sense of shared purpose or national unity. We need to remember that it’s okay to criticize our own party when necessary. Constructive criticism is not betrayal—it’s how we grow, learn, and improve. If we don’t start embracing this, we risk living in a world where real progress is impossible, and all we’re left with is a never-ending cycle of blame and bitterness.
The question we should all be asking ourselves is this: Are we willing to keep feeding into this polarization? Or will we be brave enough to break the cycle and demand better from both sides? If we don’t, the chasm will continue to grow until we can no longer see each other from across the divide. Worse yet, we’ll see the collapse of trust in our institutions, as evidenced by the chaos Greg Fergus is trying to manage in Parliament. And yes, I have to start with myself too.
Now that I’ve acknowledged this, will you take it and use it against me?