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Long time no see! After feeling paralyzed for the first 100 days of Trump’s second term, I launched the “100 days of democracy” series to spur myself towards more constructive efforts for the second hundred days. As we near the 200th day of the term on August 8th, I haven’t written as much as I expected to, nor been as action-oriented as I intended, but I’ve done a lot of reading and thinking, and I’m nearing some more tangible ideas that I want to flesh out more in the next 100 days. I’d like to update you on that journey.

Since my last post on day 13, I’ve read four books that have given me a foundation for thinking about the past, present, and future of American democracy: 

• How Democracies Die (Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt, 2018)
• Abundance: How We Build a Better Future (Ezra Klein & Derek Thompson, 2025)
• Why We’re Polarized (Ezra Klein, 2020)
• Breaking the Two-Party Doom Loop: The Case for Multiparty Democracy in America (Lee Drutman, 2020)

How Democracies Die taught me that democracies have been upheld throughout history by norms of mutual toleration (seeing political opponents as rivals rather than enemies) and forbearance (leaders deliberately holding back from leveraging all the power at their disposal). It also taught me that modern democracies don’t usually collapse into full-blown totalitarianism but rather into “competitive authoritarianism” in which elections still happen but liberties are suppressed. As norms of mutual toleration are widely being eroded, and leaders are exercising less and less forbearance, alongside increasingly overt corruption and constitutional showdowns between the executive branch and the judiciary, it’s not hard to imagine the US potentially sliding into competitive authoritarianism in the years ahead, though we do still have some fairly robust structural protections keeping us afloat. 

One of the more perspective-changing parts of the book was the emphasis on political parties as gatekeepers to power and bulwarks against populism. Before the modern primary election system started in 1972, party insiders had much more control over who would be chosen as the nominee. While these “smoke-filled rooms” were susceptible to corruption and limited voters’ power, they also tended to produce more moderate candidates and prevented more radical or populist leaders from rising to power. This theme reappeared in Why We’re Polarized and Breaking the Two-Party Doom Loop: political parties are key institutions in our democracy for preventing the rise of authoritarian leaders, and for mediating politics for the public – giving voters a home where they can trust their values and preferences generally to be represented in policy ideas. I finished How Democracies Die with a more nuanced appreciation for parties, and with a recognition that we must bolster our longstanding traditions of mutual toleration and forbearance in order to prevent democratic backsliding. 

I next moved on to Abundance, mostly because it seemed like everyone was talking about it, and it turned out to be a hopeful palate cleanser. It helped me realize the way that the Democrats, as the pro-government party, have become defenders of regulation in ways that hinder progress toward a more abundant future. It helped me feel more excited about a vision for the future where we use the levers of government to build and innovate. But, while I felt optimistic about abundance politics as a new vision and message for the Democratic party, I didn’t feel like it would be enough to set our country back on track. I needed to understand more about what’s at the root of our toxic politics.

I decided to stay with Ezra Klein and read his 2020 book, Why We’re Polarized. This was a great journey into the history and present state of polarization in America. I learned that it wasn’t long ago when many felt that the country needed more polarization. In 1950, the American Political Science Association published “Toward a More Responsible Two-Party System,” urging the Democratic and Republican parties to distinguish themselves in order to offer citizens clearer alternatives. Incoherent and ideologically overlapping parties abdicate their responsibility to help voters understand the issues at play and potential policy choices. We certainly no longer suffer from this lack of party distinction.

Another key cleavage came with civil rights. Up until then, our two-party system had actually masked a four-party system, with conservative southern Democrats and liberal Republicans making up their parties’ coalitions. After civil rights, the parties realigned with conservative southerners joining the Republicans and liberals joining the Democrats. Thus ensued what Klein describes as “identity stacking,” with core identities like race and religion aligning tightly with political parties. The amount of cross-cutting identities dwindled, and now the amount of Democrats and Republicans who prefer their child to marry someone of the same party has doubled, to 60%. 

Beyond identity stacking, we’ve also seen many more years of divided government, in which congressional leadership are incentivized to obstruct the president’s agenda, in hopes that their party will win the next presidential election. As each party has adopted more hostile tactics, the other has responded in turn, making each election feel like an existential threat to people on either side. Informed by Klein’s thorough historical analysis of polarization, I went in search of solutions.

I am so grateful to have found Lee Drutman’s 2020 book, Breaking the Two-Party Doom Loop: The Case for Multiparty Democracy in America. For the first time since starting this blog, I feel like there’s a viable way out of our national quagmire, even if it’s incredibly daunting. I recommend that everyone read this book. Drutman starts by laying out the self-reinforcing “doom loop” of our current two-party politics, and convincingly makes the case that we are headed for destruction if we don’t get out of the two-party system. As a person living in 2025, who has read everything above, I am fully on board and am not going to go into more detail of those arguments.

What was new for me was the analysis of why multiparty democracy is superior and has worked so well elsewhere. Having multiple parties (ideally 5ish) undermines the identity stacking driving the wedge in the two-party system and forces collaboration. It erodes the sense that your party must win a majority in the next election or else the country is doomed. While it’s true that most of our best examples of multiparty democracy come from parliamentary systems in Europe, where the majority coalition in the legislature chooses the executive, he makes a strong case that the same principles apply and are likely to work in the US presidential system as well. 

Besides a multiparty system, the only alternative I can imagine that might revive American democracy, would be a major party realignment which breaks the identity stacking. But I just don’t see that happening anytime soon, because of the “doom loop” phenomenon that is driving everyone deeper into their corners. And shaking up the core platforms of two major parties wouldn’t change the fundamental problem that the minority party is incentivized to obstruct the majority party, forcing the majority party to be more aggressive when in power, and undermining the key norms of mutual tolerance and forbearance.

So this is where I’ve landed after (nearly) 100 days of democracy. I’m convinced that our democracy is at risk. I’m convinced that we’re in a two party doom loop of toxic politics, and that multiparty democracy is the best way out. Even though I wrote less than I expected, I learned more than I expected in these 100 days. I was pleasantly surprised to have the blog spark conversations with friends and push my thinking in new directions. Overall it was successful enough that I’m going to keep it going. I’ll call this next phase Another 100 days of democracy: exploring multiparty politics. Hope you’ll join for that journey! 

Hey there, it’s been a while! Have been doing lots of talking, reading, and taking action in the meantime.

First up, Sacramento. I was there last week with internal medicine residents from across the state. I met with aides to our local Asm. Haney, Sen. Wiener, and also Sen. Dahle who is a Republican representing a lot of northern California. As I waited in long lines to get through security into the building (literally around the block!), I reflected on what a tremendous privilege of democracy it is that any citizen can walk into the legislature and have the ear of their representative. Yes, we had appointments, but I could just as easily have wandered in off the street and entered the office of any legislator. In every corner of the building I saw ordinary people there to make their case on issues ranging from microplastics to religious freedom. I left the capitol feeling inspired by the hundreds of my fellow citizens who believed in our democracy enough to go make their voices heard in the state’s capitol.

Since then, I’ve been doing some reading. Thanks to my mom for sending me ‘At this point, we are a liberal democracy in decline’: A conversation with scholar Larry Diamond about the state of U.S. democracy (Washington Post). This helped me understand the distinction between some key features of democracy, namely (1) liberalism/freedom, versus (2) elections. You can have elections with suppression of freedoms in between. Diamond argues that this is where we’re headed — we’re clearly still an electoral democracy, but with a decline in liberties.

That article led me to “Is it happening here?” in the New Yorker. This piece, drawing heavily from the 2018 book “How Democracies Die” (by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt) (which I have also started audiobooking), talks about how modern-day authoritarianism is much more insidious than the violent coups of the past. They share how countries like Hungary have eroded democratic norms and suppressed freedoms while still holding elections and maintaining the shell of democracy, even while the insides are hollowed out. (note that I haven’t finished this piece yet but will update with more reflections in the next blog!)

My takeaway from all this is both a deepened gratitude for our democracy and a heightened fear that we can go deep down an autocratic path before most of the public sounds the alarm, because an illiberal electoral democracy can camouflage as a real democracy for a long time.

The Diamond interview in WaPo makes one important point — in several countries that suffered backsliding and then recovered their liberal democracy, they still were hampered by intense political polarization that impeded progress. I think we are at high risk for this. Even if Democrats take back the House in 2026 and the presidency in 2028, we may still be headed down a dark road unless we can unite the country.

Just more motivation to build a true pro-democracy movement. Hope to continue building towards that in the next 87 days of this journey.

Since writing yesterday’s post, my gears have been turning about whether union-style organizing may be the strongest example of real democracy. Beyond unions’ commitment to majority action, they also build grassroots power which lends strength to the people’s voice. I ended yesterday’s post wondering about whether this approach could be scalable at a national level. Can you essentially unionize the American people to uplift the public will to government? In some ways it feels like reinventing government, or political parties, but in another it feels like it could be an important counterweight to those forces that elevates the people’s will far better than our government or parties currently do.

I thought it would be cool to call this “The People’s Union,” but it turns out this name is already taken by this group that seems focused on boycotting corporations through “economic blackouts.” The founder, John Schwarz, has 427k followers on Instagram, so there’s some traction there, but I don’t really align on the strategy or aims.

Whenever I get a big crazy idea, I try to imagine it on a more manageable scale. I’ve been thinking about what it would take to organize my zip code. Could a 94107 union advocate for our collective best interests? What would we even ask for? How would we possibly go about organizing the 34,000 people in the area?

I’d like to think that there would be real value there, but it also feels daunting. I don’t even know what I myself would ask for/ try to achieve. But, then again, the first step of organizing is about connecting on shared values. I know very clearly what’s important to me, and I think many others do as well. There may be intrinsic value to this, even if the goal isn’t to move toward any particular action. Time to get to know my neighbors!

Today is May Day, an international celebration of organized labor and the working class. Today, labor unions at UCSF went on strike, and unions led rallies across California. During my “100 days of democracy” I plan to participate in more rallies, protests, and other forms of pro-democracy organizing, but unfortunately today I was in clinic so couldn’t make it to the SF May Day rally. So, instead, I’ll take some time to write.

Coincidentally, I co-facilitated a session this week about workplace organizing, which reignited my appreciation for the democratic principles underpinning labor organizing. One of the core values that I was taught as a leader in my union was the power of majorities. The goal was always to engage a majority of our colleagues, because there is nothing more democratic (and more threatening to management) than majority participation in action.

When this is done right, it can be truly democratic. I helped lead a few campaigns that engaged a majority of our bargaining unit. It is a powerful feeling to know that you have a true, democratic majority on your side.

I also participated in smaller efforts that didn’t feel as democratic — where I felt that our leaders were farther to the left than our rank-and-file, and maybe those members who disagreed just didn’t feel strongly enough to push back on it. In the practical day-to-day, it’s very easy for leaders to slide out of step with the “people’s will” — something that is ever-changing, hard to measure, and won’t always come back to get you if you defy it. This isn’t true just in unions but in all sorts of organizations and levels of government.

As a organization fundamentally committed to democracy, our union had a lot of conversations about how to represent the people’s will. In bargaining a contract, how do we assess the interests of 1,500 members? One might initially reach for a survey — surely a questonnaire that everyone has an equal chance to answer is a fundamentally democratic choice? But what about those who inevitably don’t fill out the survey, either because they don’t have time or don’t feel strongly enough? Are they no longer counted in the people’s will? And what about those who might answer one way on a survey, but if you talk to them individually and explain the arguments in more detail, they might change their minds?

We ultimately chose a hybrid model — we did give everyone a chance to respond to a survey, but we also had extensive 1:1 conversations with members across different disciplines in order to better understand the values underpinning their responses. Because, in the midst of a negotiation, it’s much more helpful to know what people value, rather than to know what specific policies they wanted at a single point in time before the negotiation. Democracy is messy; there’s no single perfect methodology.

As I’ve recently learned more about deliberative democracy, I wonder if this paradigm might have been another approach that could have helped us in our union organizing. What if we pulled a random sample of members and led them through a deliberative process prior to (or concurrent with) bargaining to get a more representative sample of members’ values and preferences? This might have helped us more accurately assess the people’s will, but it would have missed out on opportunities for power-building through 1:1 conversations.

Any organization can operate more like a union — to commit to understanding, representing, and advancing the people’s will, and to engaging a majority of members in action. This week, my clinic decided to democratize planning for breast cancer screening by involving all our staff in the brainstorming. It resulted in an explosion of creative ideas! Now, the real challenge is to keep it democratic. It’s easy to involve everyone in brainstorming, but much harder to maintain democracy in implementation. To succeed, we’ll need to borrow strategies from the union — 1:1 conversations with a representative group of staff to understand their values and preferences, and maintaining those relationships through implementation. Alternatively, we could try a deliberative strategy, pulling a random sample of clinic staff to help guide the implementation. Just as with the union example, this might give a similar set of ideas but misses out on a lot of potential relationship-building.

My takeaway here is that union organizing captures a democratic principle that is missed in deliberative democracy, and which I haven’t seen articulated in the (limited) amount of democratic theory I’ve read recently. The power of a network of 1:1 relationships is not just to capture the people’s will (which it can do quite effectively), but also to empower the people in implementation.

Concluding question(s): How could an organizing approach to democracy be applied to uplifting the people’s will at a national level? Union density is too low, and party polarization is too high (also, political parties are not particularly strong at organizing), so it’s not clear that any single organization or network of orgs is poised to do this. Could a “Dems for Democracy” approach push the Democratic party to organize even among Republicans to uplift the will of all the American people?