It was a remarkable coming together of a large social movement that brought Donald Trump to power in a second term. It defied all predictions, and every effort of the establishment to keep him out. It is impossible to describe the astounding grassroots power and energy that made it happen. The man is the central figure, the public face, the centralizing force of hopes and dreams, but the real power emanates from below.
Not a frequent participant in political events, I happened to be speaking just before the election at a conference that dovetailed with a talk I was giving on cryptotechnology. Trump was speaking the next day at the same event, so I got a taste of the strength of the movement that had grown up in the post-lockdown era. Multitudes of families and regular people were already lining up in the middle of the night for a speech not scheduled until the next afternoon.
I surveyed the scene with amazement. I had never seen anything like it. It was obvious that there was more going on than just support for one man. It was the full emergence of a counterculture. These people were forming friendships, sharing stories, making connections, being empowered in the presence of others, and feeling as if their dreams of a better life could come true. It was a movement based on hope and fueled by a sincere idealism.
By this point in the campaign, the old divisions between liberal and conservative agendas, the supposed left and right, had broken down. MAGA patriots had been joined by MAHA foodies and advocates of medical freedom, while economic libertarians were getting on board thanks to DOGE and the efforts of Elon Musk. All these forces had united with the sudden feeling that they had a clear agenda rooted in freedom and a common enemy in the establishment that was keeping the status quo in place.
In the backdrop was a grueling national experience with lockdowns, closures, mandates, mass immigration and crime, cultural upheaval, and a level of disorientation and confusion like we’ve never experienced. This movement formed as the answer within the framework of law, namely the power and promise of an election.
Looking back, those were truly the days of innocence. Many months have passed and Trump is in power. The achievements of the first 100 days have been stunning. Now the routine of governing has begun along with all the tremendous barriers to idealism that Washington, D.C. structures have put in place. As a friend of mine reminds me often, the whole framework of the federal government is built to defy every attempt to change it, much less contain its power.
The odds of achieving anything in politics are far lower than people realize. Campaigns are technicolor cinematic extravaganzas with big stars on the silver screen. The real life workings of statecraft are more like gray and grainy gradients in silent movies with actors about whom we know nothing. Adjusting from one to the other is not easy. We are in that period right now.
Trump faces unexpected resistance from federal district orders issuing nationwide injunctions against his policies, and the bureaucracies and industries that control them are fighting back by the day. The players within every realm that the movement wants to change are well-heeled, shadowy, and playing a different game entirely. They are good at this game while the insurgents are not.
Meanwhile, the mass movements that put the new administration in power are standing on the outside looking in, attempting to assess progress and trying to make sense of the daily news, while navigating a complicated information landscape that combines legacy media with new media. The first 100 days have been a wild ride like I’ve never experienced. All of this is taking place within a 24/7 news cycle that keeps everyone riveted and oftentimes guessing, complete with the technology to offer real-time sharing and response.
Movement activists are not experienced with the exercise of power. They are motivated by ideals and driven by dreams of a better life. The affairs of state are another matter entirely. We are watching the clash of the two: the hope vs the grim realities of statecraft. This has given rise to an entire industry of watchers from the outside, people who are often mystified by the roil and boil inside the halls of power and grow frustrated at the pace of change.
The scientist and philosopher Bret Weinstein is a keen observer of human affairs. He has mapped out a model for how business is done in Washington, how the high expectations of campaigns come to be converted into the messy world of realpolitik. He calls this the “middle ground scramble.” It is unavoidable and does not necessarily doom big agendas. It’s just a reality that exists in every migration of a mass movement to the slog of policy making.
It goes as follows.
In the background, you have a deeply corrupt system in place that is revealed to all, thus generating a huge mass movement to clean it up or overthrow it. The need for change is obvious to all, and yet the system does not want change. What happens?
Truth-tellers emerge in the midst of a crisis. The system tries to silence them but it doesn’t work. They grow and grow. The outsiders beat the odds and expose the system. One might suppose that the next step is that the people who told the truth now take power.
In reality, that rarely happens. Instead there is an in-between step in which opportunists emerge. They become highly useful to the system to create the appearance without the reality of change.
Weinstein calls these people “middle-ground scramblers” because they specialize in ridiculing and opposing the corrupt system while warning against truth-tellers whom they regard as “unwashed heretics” with dangerous ideas, no credentials, no experience, and no real plan. These people provide for a “false catharsis” because they inveigh equally against the status quo and the radical alternative.
“The racket gets a tongue lashing,” writes Weinstein, “which the public demands. But the public also is relieved to have their doubts about the truth tellers ‘confirmed.’ It allows them to rationalize their own error in ignoring the truth-tellers until it was far too late. And that’s how the racket stays in power with fresh new faces that make it feel like reform happened. They talk the talk but won’t walk the walk. They become the racket. It’s a sweet deal.”
The middle-ground scramblers are usually favored with positions and influence in the replacement regime because they are mostly likely to pass muster with legacy influencers and confound media elites. Their ascendence, however, deeply bothers the truth tellers who made the whole transition possible in the first place. The cries of betrayal fill the air.
In his explanation of this dynamic of social change, the danger is in moving too slowly under the guidance of voices and people who have too much of a connection to the discredited regime of the past. This is how it happens that reformist political leaders can become merely transitional, yielding to yet another round of upheaval in the future.
History bears out this intuition.
Russian history comes to mind. Czar Nicholas II in 1916 already presided over an unstable regime but then embroiled his country in a total war complete with inflation and conscription, thus discrediting and endangering the monarchy itself. The social upheaval was channeled into a revolution in which Alexander Kerensky, himself a product of the old system, ruled briefly in 1917 but failed to accommodate public desires to end the war and economic crisis.
Part of Kerensky’s pitch was that he decried the despotism of the old regime but would protect the public against the extremism of the Bolsheviks and Mensheviks. It was a compelling claim but he failed to follow through due to his deep loyalties to the bureaucracy and military, and bet the stability of his new regime on a final war victory. He lost the bet and it discredited his rule. The result was a real revolution in which he was out on his ear and the entire monarchy was slaughtered.
Because of Kerensky’s “middle ground squeeze,” Russia endured 70 years of Bolshevik rule and the ruination of the country. The historical case serves as a warning to all the moderate forces who assume positions of power in the midst of genuine upheaval: Serve the people rather than the legacy regime or throw it all away.
Herein lies the danger in all times and places where the gap between the rulers and the ruled grows too wide: the only real error is going too slowly in the pace of change.
The Trump administration’s greatest critics on the left see the new administration as ferocious and terrifying in its push and its pacing. You will find such people explaining this point of view daily in mainstream media venues. However, from the perspective of the grassroots that got Trump where he is—the people who lined up for miles 12 hours before their champion arrived to speak—there is already restlessness that the pace is too slow with too much evidence of compromise.
I’ve worried for years that Trump—in cooperation with a Republican Congress—could serve as the Kerensky of our times, a transitional figure from what was toward a future in which he is not in power but rather something else more edgy, more radical, more ferocious takes his place. Is that a possibility? No one knows the future but this much I will say: people underestimate the power and depth of significance of the grassroots at their peril.
