Over the past three years, I’ve confronted a profoundly unsettling observation: that ideological changes inevitably create distance – a chasm of understanding – between the person experiencing that change and those who remain. It is uncomfortable for the witness as they inevitably struggle to evaluate their domains of thought. “So and so has changed; what does that mean for me?” Epictetus powerfully stated, ‘Who are these by whom you wish to be admired? Are not these the men whom you generally describe as mad? What do you want then? Do you want to be admired by madmen?’ It’s a question that forces us to examine the very nature of persuasion, of belief, and of the bonds we forge with others. I don’t expect anyone to understand; I simply offer this as a reflection on a difficult, and perhaps unsettling, transformation. Below, I am going to detail how several unseemingly related events changed me from a red-blooded Conservative to a moderate Leftist.
I’ve created an outline/ roadmap to aid me in telling this story of transformation:
- 2020 Campaigns
- Political Science Classes
- COVID-19
- January 6th Attacks
- Cycling
- Dietetics, Science, and Nutrition
2020 Campaigns
In 2020, I was driving around Fairbanks, Alaska, on election night with Trump posters and flags in the back of my truck. I was working for a big oil PAC and, naturally, got tied into the MAGA world during the campaign season. Like so many, I was drawn in by the narrative – the feeling of being part of something, of fighting against an “establishment” that felt out of touch with what I, as a voter, wanted. I picked up a job with the Sullivan senate campaign, attended luncheons with some of the most bulwark Conservatives in town, and even went to an election night party. I fell for the stolen election nonsense and was entranced by the world of Conservatism.
Political Science Classes
Around this time, I was taking political science classes at the University of Alaska Fairbanks. It was here, in the charged atmosphere of debate, that my shift truly began. I was arguing with a classmate – a sharp, thoughtful young woman with purple hair – about international relations and comparative politics. She challenged my unwavering defense of Donald Trump, forcing me to confront the uncomfortable reality that I was simply repeating talking points without critical thought. Her arguments, rooted in objective data and scientific understanding, were a stark contrast to the emotionally driven rhetoric I’d been absorbing. COVID-19 was raging at the time, and like many, I had bought into the conspiracy theories and misinformation swirling around the pandemic.
COVID-19
Then, my dad was hospitalized with COVID-19. My immediate concern was for his health, and specifically, how medical science could intervene. What drugs could we give him? Kind of hypocritical, isn’t it, to spread misinformation and then hope those same systems help a family member in need. This brought a crucial, practical element into focus – the power of evidence-based medicine. It was a brutal wake-up call, realizing how easily I’d been swayed by unverified claims. This realization fueled my commitment to seek out verifiable truths. In the panic and worry, I knew that I wanted the experts to give him the best care possible (and they did.) This was a huge shift for me, and I eventually got the vaccine. It became clear to me how the maladroit response to COVID-19 was costing lives. I remember viewing my first research article on PUBMED about lipid coatings on viruses and how the washing of hands can destroy this layer.
Populism
I want to take a brief pause here and talk about populism. As I see it, populism is fundamentally about identifying scapegoats. Someone like Trump skillfully exploits anxieties by blaming problems – economic hardship, social divisions – on groups like immigrants and the ‘radical Left.’ He offers a tempting, albeit deceptive, promise of solutions. His sycophantic circle creates chaos and disruption, which I fed from for a few years. It’s a dangerous dynamic. The appeal lies in the simple satisfaction of having someone to blame, rather than confronting complex, often uncomfortable, realities. I like Cicero’s observation – ‘We are his [Caesar’s] slaves; but he is a slave of the times.’ It is a valuable perspective on the fleeting nature of populist movements. The rapid decline of figures like Trump underscores the inherent instability of relying on simplistic solutions driven by immediate grievances. Populists struggle to find their place in the long term.
I’ve long struggled to grasp why so many around me feel compelled to defend the Trump administration’s actions to the point of sycophancy, seemingly without regard for their actual feelings. This phenomenon is often referred to as “cognitive dissonance.” If I could impart one key idea to those folks, it would be that there’s genuine ideological freedom in the ability to both agree and disagree with others. Consistently absorbing the constant rhetoric, as I found during the 2020 election, can be incredibly draining. When you make a politician your entire identity, you spend so much effort defending them. If you want to have a conversation about this, please reach out. I can easily critique any Democrat as I can any Republican- and it feels freeing.
January 6th
I remember working at the fire department and watching in disbelief and horror as a mob of MAGA Red Hats stormed the United States Capitol building. It was a scene of superlative chaos and violence, a direct assault on our democratic institutions. The images of individuals scaling walls, shattering windows, and confronting law enforcement were deeply disturbing. These weren’t patriots; they were terrorists. But beyond the immediate visual spectacle, it was Trump’s televised response that truly solidified my realization of the depth of the problem. His repeated claims of a ‘stolen election,’ despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, and his encouragement to his supporters to continue fighting, felt like a deliberate attempt to incite violence and undermine the peaceful transfer of power. He used you and me as pawns, and I wasn’t going to have any more of it. I needed to fundamentally re-evaluate my own values and allegiance. It was at this time that I began to split. I was craving epistemology, and I wasn’t going to get it in my usual MAGA circles.
Cycling
To this day, I think getting into cycling was the ‘final nail’ in the coffin for my Conservative beliefs. Shortly after getting sober from alcohol, I bought an indoor spin bike. After doing spin classes in the winter of 2021, I transcended to biking outside. I can’t exactly pinpoint how, but I began to see perspectives from individuals on the Left. I began to socialize with people from different backgrounds, races, beliefs, and sexual orientations. I had never sought out these groups before because, for years, I was told they were subhuman. I found myself cycling on roads and realizing how much the United States relies on the automobile. For some reason, enhanced pedestrian infrastructure is seen as ‘radical’ and ‘Leftist.’ Somehow, cycling was the perfect mix of ingredients that ushered in a whole new world and perspective for me (and still does.) I wish that I could elaborate on this more, but I truly am not sure how this one single sport was the final change I needed.
Dietetics, Science, and Nutrition
Writing this post has brought into sharp focus how these various events in my life have formed a domino effect. Looking back, I recognize that even up to this point, I had been susceptible to misinformation, including deeply held beliefs against vaccines and a general skepticism towards scientific consensus. But, interestingly, as I became increasingly passionate about cycling and performance optimization, I started to delve into the science of nutrition and metabolism. I enrolled in courses that were fundamentally rooted in science and medicine. What was truly transformative was my exposure to the actual process of scientific research – how hypotheses are formed, tested, and validated through rigorous data and analysis. College taught me how to think critically. It was a revelation, and a deeply satisfying experience to finally understand how science works, moving beyond simple opinion and towards demonstrable evidence. It completely shifted my perspective. I realized that all this pseudoscience and misinformation caused harm to people who fell for it (I have written about this before).
I recall shadowing an oncologist in Fairbanks and engaging in a lengthy discussion with him. Following our hour-long conversation, I recognized that he wasn’t motivated by pharmaceutical interests or a desire to harm patients; rather, he had dedicated over 40 years to cancer research, spending countless hours in some end-of-the-hall laboratory cultivating cells. Considering the state of the world today, it’s difficult to fathom the lunacy of individuals with limited education—a high school GED—publicly criticizing and spreading misinformation about a field dedicated to scientific research and rigorous investigation. Sadly, this is happening in real time. Of course, most of these are ad hominem attacks and can be ignored. The older I get, the more I understand that it’s pointless to try and change the minds of others; I will touch on that at the end here with empathy. Ward Farnsworth has a brilliant quote that I think fits here: ‘A distrust for words and/or theory is an excuse for people who lack the patience to understand the implications of an idea.’
Wrapping Up
Ultimately, my journey isn’t about declaring a definitive political allegiance, but rather about recognizing the complex forces that shape our beliefs. I think there are many flaws on the Left and within the Democratic Party. But this is about the vital, and often uncomfortable, process of continually questioning everything, including my preconceptions. While the path forward for our society feels uncertain, I believe the most pragmatic approach lies in fostering empathy and understanding. Perhaps, by acknowledging the validity of differing viewpoints, we can begin to rebuild a foundation for genuine dialogue and, ultimately, a more thoughtful and united future. I think that, as Americans, we share more in common than political pundits let on. (In the meantime, we should all read more books.)
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