5 Harsh Truths the U.S. Election Presented the Social Justice Sector

The second election of Donald Trump gave us a hard lesson: the argument for social justice and democracy fails in America, when pinned against the possibility of personal gain.

The election results have left many of us in grief, anger and paranoia—angry at the people that chose a convicted felon over a qualified woman, and paranoid about what people in our communities voted for a leader who amplifies hate, division, sexism and discrimination. The number of previously quiet, now emboldened Trump voters popping up on my social media feeds aligns with the country’s strong swing to the right.  But there’s also a newfound anger directed at myself and my own, and a realization that we – those of us who work in social justice – are a part of the problem.

Those of us who work in social justice – researching, reading, writing, planning, strategizing, building and acting on the simple idea that everyone should have equal rights, opportunities, and treatment – have lessons to learn from the resounding rejection of persuadable voters that voted for Trump.

My paranoia is playing the blame game: I’m poring over which demographics of American voters betrayed the values that bring us together, in order to elect a man that represents all that is wrong with society and American culture? One who believes in stereotyping immigrants, disparaging women, racist and discriminatory practices in business dealings and policies, promoting violence and machismo?

White women: how could you actually vote for this proven predator? Is patriarchy so deeply entrenched that you reject the possibility that women could hold the power and change our circumstances for the better?

How could so many marginalized communities end up so confused by bravado that in the privacy of a voting booth, they make a selection for a person and a party that insults them, their heritage, and threatens their physical safety and security through policy, rhetoric and neglect?

I thought I shared solidarity with these demographics because we share the struggle to be heard and counted in halls of power, and we’ve been similarly disparaged by language and policy priorities of the previous Trump Administration. That was misguided, identity politics failed, and appeals for unity among those with shared lived experiences didn’t resonate as strongly as the lure of more money in pockets.

Here are five more ugly truths that this last week has uncovered:

1. Women don’t necessarily want to support other women.

The fear of transgender women overtaking any relative privilege cis-women have in society is stronger with many than the calling for women to support each other. One lesson I’m reckoning with is that “women support women” doesn’t resonate outside of the circles I’ve drawn around myself professionally and personally.

From the standpoint of a professional communicator for organizations that advocate, build programs, raise awareness of and educate about social justice (at Comotion), the second election of Donald Trump was our failure. From my corner of the industry, I can see that more money than ever is pulsing from billionaires like Mackensie Scott and Melinda French Gates into women’s rights and health organizations, but this is maybe all for naught if we continue the way we’ve always been working and communicating.

We’re raising awareness and facilitating programs, but primarily among those who have gone to liberal universities and who are above average in educational attainment. Those who have the privilege to spend their time writing social media posts about how they’re incensed about what strength of angle on  Israel and Palestine was taken by entities that say they’re liberal.

But what about everyone else? Those who may fall completely on the other end of the ideological spectrum in many areas, but still value their health, their families, their livelihood, their dignity, like the rest of us.

Why didn’t we manage to reach them?

2. Liberals attacking other liberals for not being liberal enough doesn’t come off as ‘inclusive’.

Feminists, liberals, and those of us advocating for compassion have been speaking to ourselves, using language that we thought was inclusive. In practice, it excludes those outside our worldview. We haven’t actually built the inclusive ‘safe spaces’ we thought we did, we’ve built elite exclusive spaces that don’t welcome all perspectives.

In the safe space of a ballot box, millions chose a person and a party creed that rejects compassion, feminism, liberalism, and democratic values. The argument to choose leadership based on shared values that emerge from shared challenges and lived experiences doesn’t work.

I think this election is a resounding answer that the majority of American voters do not care about social justice.

3. This election isn’t just a rejection of a candidate, but a rejection of the way we communicate our values and expect others to align.

Our language of inclusivity, while intended to be unifying, has become niche — focused within circles that understand and accept its nuances. Outside these circles, it appears elitist, detached, and at times even judgmental. This election isn’t just a rejection of a candidate, but a rejection of the way we communicate our values and expect others to align without truly engaging them.

This election has taught us that the language and values of social justice, equality, and inclusion aren’t resonating broadly enough to bridge the divide in America.

4. We have vastly underestimated the enduring power of individualism and personal gain as motivators in American society.

The appeal of self-interest runs deep, and people are more likely to make choices based on what they believe will benefit them immediately, rather than on ideals of equity and fairness that may feel abstract or distant. Trump’s narrative appeals to this mindset by presenting an alternative where self-preservation and economic advantage are prioritized over collective responsibility.

The social justice message is inherently about interconnectedness and empathy, but this election suggests that these values don’t appeal within a culture that prizes individual achievement and self-interest above communal well-being.

5. We failed to connect with Americans outside our ideological communities.

For many, the issues we champion feel secondary to what they perceive as existential threats to their way of life — threats they believe are being amplified, not alleviated, by progressive ideals. Our messaging often feels accusatory, which alienates rather than invites people to our cause.

One thing to remember is that when people vote against values like inclusivity and social justice, it’s not necessarily because they oppose these ideas, but because we didn’t take the time to understand their fears, desires and values genuinely in order to incorporate them into our advocacy. We failed to make the connection between social justice and economic justice: that paid family leave, childcare affordability, reproductive rights and gender equality are economic boosters in every country where they are universally supported. These concepts mean more money in pockets, but the 70 million voters who voted for Trump saw a route to economic growth that was more clear and immediate than these concepts afford. We failed to make that connection.

Looking forward, this election forces us to reconsider our communication strategies and recognize that building true solidarity requires engaging with people on their terms, not ours.

We have to put our ego and own life experiences to one side and figure out the hopes and fears of those on the other side.