Month: August 2026

Imagine the time it takes to publish a poll only for people to misread it in a few seconds. So it was with a Gallup survey showing patriotism between political parties in 2025—36% of Democrats “very” or “extremely” proud of America, versus 92% Republicans. The data was destined for weaponization. With such results, we’ll simplify the results. We’ll leap to lazy conclusions. And we’ll affirm what we already thought about others. In this case, the impression can be that the majority of Democrats dislike America. But as usual, the story is more complex. There is more going on in the hearts of millions of voters, and the numbers deserve a thoughtful review.

I was familiar with the survey when watching a popular YouTuber misrepresent it. He was googling how many Democrats love America, and I knew what was coming.

Oh no, I thought as he typed the question, whispering it to himself. Please don’t. It’s more than you’re…

But that was it. The wheels were in motion; his judgment coming at high speed.

36% of Democrats are proud to … you see! Right there! 64% of Democrats hate America!

He was proud to affirm what he already thought of Democrats, and millions now confirmed their contempt for anyone left of center. It was sad, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Now we can be fair to him and his viewers by being open about things that’ll convince us the Democratic Party is anti-American. It’s the side more likely to burn the flag, and to support its legalization. It’s the side that condemns the U.S. for capitalism and systemic racism, from TikTok rage to academia. It’s the side where President Obama’s pastor preached “God Damn America”, while Hasan Piker is one of its most popular commentators today. It’s the side where people fault America for even existing, citing stolen land and historical oppressions. And it’s the side appearing content if not joyful for the murders of Charlie Kirk and a health insurance CEO. Such words and acts are from real elements of the Left, and none of them were pulled from imagination.

But we must do our best to separate these impressions from the thoughts of millions who would take their side in elections. The 77 million Americans who voted for Kamala Harris weren’t celebrating Charlie Kirk’s death. They’re not in the streets burning flags, and they’re not interested in damning America. Many don’t even pay enough attention to grow such feelings; only 36% say they follow news all or most of the time. People lead busy lives while only catching the occasional headline. But online media will immerse us in the loudest voices while studies like the Gallup poll pull us to view the public from 5,000 feet. With the complexity of individuals’ perspectives, it’s unreasonable to judge millions the same as the angriest on their side.

Let’s then take a real look at the poll. The 36% were Democrats saying they’re either extremely (20%) or very (16%) proud to be American. Another 28% were moderately proud, 23% only a little, and 13% not at all. With moderate pride of country, the 28% still have patriotism, but they might not want to put themselves in the same category as “very” or “extremely”. These are strong words, and most of us would hesitate to label ourselves with them on many topics.* Then there are those with only a little pride – 23%. No doubt, it’s a discouraging, suspicious number to some. But the 23% must have found something in their hearts to appreciate the country. So do they hate America? It seems unlikely. If you’re a little proud of something, then you’re likely not vengeful against it.

The 13% not proud at all now become the true candidates for hatred. While this would be the answer for Hasan Piker, I still hesitate to label the lot the same as him. Just as “very” and “extremely” are strong words, so is “hate”. Does “not at all” necessarily translate to hatred in a person? It seems plausible that some instead will have no opinion at all. Maybe their upbringing just didn’t include parades for the Stars and Stripes every 4th. Maybe they simply live lives without a feeling of need for patriotic spirit. They have other things to think about. Other interests. Other priorities. (I was one of them in my younger years.) If we could ask them, maybe some would even be surprised people think they hate America. Maybe some are just indifferent, holding to other things that drive their hopes and worries.

A certain trend in the Gallup data is worth review: The reactions to who becomes president. The poll was in 2025, and only one year earlier, the 36% number was 62%—a 26-point drop, and the single largest shift in the 20-year history of the poll. Republicans or Independents aren’t immune from this either; the former dropped seven points with the 2020 election, and the latter the same after 2024. This shows how many aren’t so much thinking of American principles, but only the latest election. Some Democrats will ask how they can be proud for a nation that elects Donald Trump, and Republicans might ask the same with Joe Biden. Such events are bound to influence people’s thoughts on America.

And current events in general will sway our answers. As late as 2013, the number of Democrats answering as very or extremely was 85%. It’s an unfathomable number today, from only 13 years ago. But the numbers dropped over time, showing that people will change their answers from circumstance. Maybe people turned sour on America when the great hopes of Obama campaigns never materialized. Maybe smart phones started bringing to our eyes endless scenes of perils, shifting our perceptions of reality. And as noted, presidential elections matter. Whatever our opinions, the years of the first Trump administration took a gradual toll on patriotism for both Democrats and independents. These are the things on people’s minds. They show disgruntlement, but maybe not hatred.

My next-door neighbors come to mind when I think of people who might answer this poll. The mother is from Italy, the father from Israel, and last year they became American citizens. The mother is left-leaning with a strong dislike of President Trump. But on the 4th of July, their nine-year old daughter gave our children a beautiful card for the holiday. With red and blue marker, the American flag covers the front with “Happy 250 America” in the blue box. The back has a greeting to our kids, and the inside has a drawing of their family with ours watching fireworks. I ask myself now, knowing some of their political views: Do they hate America? Would I judge them for their answer to this question? Should I judge our neighborhood in the same way, knowing its politics? People are more complicated than we think.

Be considerate of your own neighbors when reading any such poll. This isn’t a defense from someone in the Democratic Party. Nor is it even a claim that patriotism is the greatest virtue to aspire to. It’s a plea to recognize how easily we misread data and condemn others for it. I could name the YouTuber who affirmed people’s hate for Democrats, but he’s just one of many that can skip the work of reading sources. We look for evidence justifying our biases. But life isn’t simple, and our neighbors aren’t either. Think about what might come to their minds when answering this survey, and we might not judge them at all.

*This is just a suspicion, but I wonder if some will stop themselves from answering “very” proud because they think of Republicans. With strong patriotism now only associated with one party, it might be a turnoff for some to see themselves in that way. So they don’t dislike America; they just dislike the other side. [back]

Earlier this year, insights from William Shatner pushed me to an unexpected sorrow. In his book “Boldly Go”, the Star Trek legend wrote of his experience traveling to space in 2021. At age 90, he found himself among the stars in real life, but he discovered a surprising, overwhelming sadness. The universe appeared to him now as a lifeless, endless void with no appeal to explore. And by contrast, the blue globe below him now radiated with life—the one planet we know of that can sustain us. Shatner, an actor who inspired generations to dream of the final frontier, now only spoke of it with grief. But he also took a deep appreciation for our planet, and I want to as well. Earth not only sustains life, but it can fill us with awe if we allow it to.

I found myself on this emotional journey when I watched a video that brings home the awe-inspiring vastness of space. It simulates views of our sun from the surfaces of various planets. Starting on Mercury and moving outward, it becomes smaller and smaller as we travel beyond the solar system. By the end, it’s only one of many stars and other images that flood the universe. With solemn background music, it’s awe-inspiring—beautiful, humbling scenes that can shake any of us from the thoughts of our current troubles. A certain Bible verse can now carried new weight—“The Heavens declare the glory of God”. Immersion in space can force us to find new perspective, as it did for Shatner.

His words about the emptiness of space then came to mind toward the end. I stopped watching the scenes with wonder, feeling a bit of the sorrow that filled Shatner when he broke Earth’s atmosphere. Instead of seeing beauty, the universe now appeared as dead. Lifeless. Empty with no signs of anything worth visiting. The famous phrase from Star Trek’s creed – “To seek out new life and new civilizations” – now rang hollow. What life? What civilizations? So far as we can tell today, they aren’t there. And for William Shatner to be the messenger of this was jarring. It was equivalent to Santa Claus taking off his beard to tell kids he doesn’t exist. There was now only sadness for a universe that has so much, yet so little.

Now none of us know for sure if there is life beyond Earth, and I don’t mean to come down on the idea that there is. I can understand the motivations to believe it’s true. It might be unappealing to believe humanity is the sole source of consciousness in a random universe. And to believe it means there is no new frontier of interest. No prospects for the future exchange of ideas, culture, and new friendships. So I can’t say that Earth is the one and only planet in the universe with flora or fauna.* But if there are other planets like Earth, reaching them would take warp speeds we can still only dream of. So unless aliens are coming down to greet us soon, we are alone, for all practical purposes.

But even with the understandable sadness from Shatner, I don’t want to feel despair about it. And neither did he. The lifelessness of space brought him to see Earth with renewed appreciation. Instead of sorrow, Shatner found hope from the world he had left. Maybe it takes a good stare into the abyss to bring us to gratitude for what we already have. And for myself, I can better understand people who stare at nature for hours in wonder. A sunset. A spider web. An autumn that blankets the land in colorful leaves. An ocean that blinds us with endless blue waves. It turns out, we don’t need a distant galaxy for fulfillment. We can just look outside, and we can feel happiness for what’s at our doorstep.

The beauty of Earth makes me think of the journeys that previous generations took to find new civilizations. The deserts leading to the Nile River. The mountains standing as gates to the greener pastures of Oregon. Spaniards sailed west while Marco Polo walked east. Travelers were compelled to explore distant terrains, but the difference with space is that the travels on Earth always led to life. If the frontier is lifeless, it stops everything that makes a frontier worth exploring. While this isn’t to discourage the ambitions of scientists looking to the stars, but such thoughts have left this Star Trek fan with a new point of view.

We can choose, as Shatner did, to appreciate the earth under our feet. Next winter, I will step into the sub-zero atmosphere of Minnesota. An odd place to find appreciation, but I will still try to hold gratitude. To breathe the chill air of our atmosphere; to stare at the glistening snow on tree limbs; to gaze at the Orion constellation; and to feel happy for having a livable, breathable seat to look at the universe. And when winter thaws, maybe I’ll find a bug to stare at. Or a squirrel. Or even a wasp. It’s life, and it might not be anywhere else in the universe. Earth is a diamond in a land of sand, and while I’ll never tell anyone to stop exploring space, I’ll stare at what’s down here with fulfillment. And so can you.

*In high school, a science teacher took us through a series of calculations that put the odds of life on another planet as astronomical. I can’t remember the equations; I only thought, Wow, Star Trek really feels like fiction now. [back]