Henry Abbott

I consider myself a political person. Every morning I read the news or listen to a podcast summarizing it. My Instagram feed is littered with posts from The New York Times, The New Yorker and meme accounts spoofing current events. I like to read opinion columns and hear the latest public discourse. I followed the lead-up to the 2024 election closely and am planning to major in history or government.

Here at Bowdoin, this isn’t particularly unusual. Despite a stereotype that the campus is apathetic, it seems few people here are willfully oblivious to the news. Right now, we are being slammed every day with more of it than ever. Yet as Donald Trump enters his third week as president, I’ve noticed a greater desire among myself and others on our overwhelmingly liberal campus to tune it all out and recede into a bubble.

After Kamala Harris’ election loss, I tried to take a break from the news. Watching Trump capture not only the electoral college but the popular vote was deeply disturbing, but there was time to grieve and recover with months until the inauguration. Now there is no such respite. With every passing day, the liberal political mood seems to be one of increasing exhaustion, overwhelm and dread. News of grave consequence is firing out constantly: Elon Musk’s illegal government dismantlement, threats to pointlessly invade foreign nations, undemocratic attempts to bypass congress.

I’ve found myself hesitant to scroll the top stories of the day after waking up. Why read what I know will immediately make me lose hope, feel depressed and get angry? The driving factor for my news consumption—which was once a desire to engage with world events—now feels like a morbid curiosity that wears off quickly. Why pay attention when everything sucks? I know I’m not alone in questioning the point in self-inflicting this kind of pain.

I’ve considered checking out. But this approach is not only unproductive; it is dangerous. Though it may be the path of least resistance, growing apathetic plays right into this administration’s hands. As the journalist Ronan Farrow pointed out at a talk on campus last Tuesday, the Trump team’s strategy has been to “flood the zone” with so many outrage-provoking initiatives that they overwhelm opponents. The administration is hoping that liberals will be so disoriented that they cannot latch onto and resist any significant number of specific actions.

Thus, now is not the time to tune out. Rather, it is time to tune in—but carefully. Much of the drama being created is bluster meant to rage-bait Democrats or fire up the Republican base rather than create lasting policy change. Not every incendiary Trump comment necessitates a headline or is worth reading about. On the other hand, certain moves are serious threats to undermine the constitution and rule of law. Take J.D. Vance’s direct challenge to the power of the judiciary to restrain the president’s agenda. Reading about events like that may threaten to make my head explode. But they are not to be ignored.

I’ve grappled with how to translate this choice into meaningful action. After all, merely consuming the news won’t result in accountability being taken by the executive branch. I think something we all can do is to talk about what’s happening, what we’re learning and making of it. How it feels impactful, why it matters. Don’t act like it’s business as usual in the United States, because it’s absolutely not. As weeks pass under the Trump administration, I’ll be looking to have more conversations with friends and family about our place in it all.

Reading the news can be a hobby, but I’ve always found it in many ways to be a civic responsibility. Now it feels like one more than ever. I’d encourage anyone, whether you’re a political junkie like myself or only get your information from memes on social media, to not lose track of what’s happening at the federal level. Don’t let the people you care about lose track either. We will continue to see dramatic challenges to the constitution and the foundations of our democracy. All the while, I will not be willfully asleep.

Evan Carr is a member of the Class of 2028.