In a letter to his wife, Olga, the playwright and political dissident Václav Havel wrote, “Hope is a dimension of the spirit. It is not outside us, but within us.” Havel sent the note from a Prague jail, after being imprisoned for criticizing his country’s regime from 1979 until 1983.
Havel could have been forgiven for rejecting hope. After the Prague Spring, a brief period of political protest and social liberalization, Czechoslovakia had veered back towards Soviet rule. Authoritarians had tightened their grip on law, media, and culture, Havel forced to survey it all from a tiny cell.
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]Some Americans might feel that the current moment runs parallel with Havel’s, in the wake of Donald Trump’s election to a second term as President. Many Democrats have abandoned hope in favor of cynicism: deciding that most of the voting public are selfish, bigoted enemies of democracy.
This is an understandable response, but perhaps not a helpful one. Writing off vast swaths of Americans fuels trends most of the nation abhors. Research finds that people who mistrust their fellow citizens are most likely to support “strong man” leaders who promise to protect people while stripping away their freedoms. Donald Trump capitalized on this phenomenon, offering a fever dream of American carnage that beguiled many people into his camp. For instance, violent crime has been declining across the U.S. for decades, but many Americans—especially if they watch conservative media—falsely believe it’s on the rise. People who held that dark view favored Trump by more than 25 points. It’s not just crime. According to the Pew Research Center, Americans’ faith in institutions—including education, science, and government—has plummeted, but this drop is steepest among Republicans.
The 2024 U.S. election reflected deep cynicism among voters about the nation and where it was headed. And if you are disheartened by the outcome, you might reasonably fear where we’re headed now.
Read More: Your Cynicism Isn’t Helping Anybody
Optimism—the idea that things will turn out well—could feel ridiculous with all that’s happening. But what Havel knew, even while sitting in his cell, is that hope is different: the idea that things could improve. It acknowledges that we have no idea how the future will unfold—and in that uncertainty, our actions still matter.
We have stereotyped hope as naive, privileged, even toxic: sticking our fingers in our ears and tuning out the world’s problems. It’s nothing of the sort. Centuries ago, philosopher and theologian Thomas Aquinas described hope as a struggle to reach goals that are “arduous and difficult to obtain”—hardly a walk in the park. Modern psychologists have followed suit, describing hope as a bulwark against despair in difficult times.
So how does it work? And more importantly, how can it be used to affect change in our lives and across our culture?
Hope contains three experiences. First, a goal, something positive that may or may not occur in the future. Second, will power, the desire to achieve that goal, and third, way power, a path through which to pursue it. Where an optimist might sit and wait for a bright future to arrive, a hopeful person pulls themselves towards it, often through great effort. And because of that, hope—more than optimism—predicts people’s ability to meet their goals.
If you’re upset by this year’s election, you can use hope in at least two ways. First, it can steady your well being. Research finds that hopeful people are more resilient when facing difficulties, such as chronic illness and loss. Amid a swirl of experiences we can’t control, hope focuses us on what we can. Restoring a sense of agency, it can bring peace, purpose, and strength.
This is not merely an exercise in wellness. The energy hope provides has been a cornerstone of social movements around the world and throughout history. Psychologists have examined decades of research collective action, people’s willingness to struggle together for causes in which they believe. One of the forces that most propelled collective action was a sense of efficacy. People fight when they imagine the fight could be won. In other words, when they feel hope.
One source of efficacy—and hope—among activists is the knowledge that even when systems are unjust and harmful, most people are not. After his release from prison, Havel got right back into the advocacy that had gotten him arrested in the first place. But he was not alone. His dissident group, Charter 77, led national strikes and demonstrations that swelled to hundreds of thousands of people. With the media under state control, citizens hung handmade protest signs from their windows. Each risked their safety, but also signaled to each other how popular the movement was. Within a few years, the regime had toppled, and Havel became the Czech Republic’s first President.
Now, too, good citizens are everywhere. Conservative voters are wrong about crime statistics, but both sides misunderstand each other. Research clearly demonstrates that more than 80% of Americans—including Democrats and Republicans voters—would prefer greater peace between political parties; most respect democratic rule. Across surveys, a supermajority of the country support policies to protect poor people and the climate. But almost no one knows that.
Both Democrats and Republicans vastly overestimate how extreme, hateful, anti-democratic, and violent their opponents are. Media companies thrive on outrage, inundating us with extreme and inflammatory portrayals of the “other side.” When we uncritically consume these messages, we miss out on vast swaths of common ground that most Americans share.
Succumbing to cynicism might feel like a balm after this election, but it’s a trap—one that leads us further from the solutions we need. Instead, we must embrace the hard work of hope: recognizing our shared humanity, seeking common ground, and building a coalition that transcends divides. This isn’t wishful thinking; it’s strategic, deliberate, and essential.
In their walk through the wilderness, Democrats will need to consider how to build a broader coalition that can defeat the cynical populism of Trump and his successors. In this mission, hope isn’t just a mindset—it’s the plan.
