And the Loser Is?

In the curious ceremony that is the American presidential election, the “winner” traditionally strides offstage with accolades, limelight, and the ostensible authority of the Oval Office. Yet, in the tumultuous theater of our nation’s politics today, the truth might be this: no matter who stands at the end of the November contest — neither Kamala Harris nor Donald Trump — the American people have already lost.

The American public, having endured cycles of disillusionment and compromise, is painfully aware of the reality: neither of these candidates has the philosophical rigor or fortitude to arrest the entropy that afflicts our nation’s government, economy, and culture. In fact, it is clear that neither the Democratic nor Republican Party is now structured to accommodate serious reforms or reckon with the increasingly unwieldy institutions over which they nominally preside. America’s two main political parties have defaulted on their civic responsibilities, and no matter who ascends to the presidency in January, this dereliction of duty will persist — unfazed by the occasional administrative shuffle.

Consider, first, the staggering balloon of national debt, which has inflated to $33 trillion and counting, in what now feels like an annual ritual of indifference. Both parties have contributed to this figure, which would once have been considered a surrealist’s number rather than a fiscal reality. This debt, a burden for generations unborn, represents perhaps the most flagrant abdication of responsibility in modern governance. While both parties blame each other for the accumulated liabilities, neither offers meaningful reform or a roadmap to solvency. Instead, the public is subjected to the pretense of “responsible” spending, the fruits of which will rot long after these politicians have faded into history.

Global instability is another symptom of our era’s chronic malaise. The world is not merely slipping from the grip of American influence; it is rapidly adapting to a reality in which the United States plays the role of a weary actor, reciting lines about international cooperation while retreating from the global stage. Recent shifts toward a more multipolar world — from China’s unchecked ascent to Europe’s hedging independence — demonstrate how American foreign policy has failed to maintain stability or project strength. Our alliances, like NATO, strain under the weight of expectation without a matching investment of attention or resources. The foreign policy choices of a Harris or a Trump are unlikely to reverse this trend; they may even exacerbate it, as both pursue different variations on a theme of American exceptionalism without the necessary foundations.

And what of the most fundamental existential threat of our age — climate change? The scientific consensus is irrefutable, yet the national will remains stubbornly unchanged, anchored by a political establishment for whom "green" is merely a public-relations hue. Our leaders invoke climate change as a specter when it suits them, a convenient appeal for votes or, worse, for donations. Yet no serious policy reform is in sight, nor is there a legislative coalition with the courage to challenge the deeply embedded interests — economic and cultural — that maintain our status quo. A Harris presidency might tinker with federal subsidies for clean energy, and a Trump administration may roll back regulations with fervor. But, beyond these cosmetic changes, neither is poised to address the systemic shifts required to curb an issue whose impacts are already being felt by Americans in their own backyards.

If one truly wishes to see the effects of bipartisan indifference, look no further than the rise of domestic terrorism and political violence. Such extremism is, at its root, a symptom of broader disenfranchisement and despair. Americans are radicalizing, not because of isolated ideologies but because their institutions have abandoned them. They have witnessed a Congress more adept at gridlock than governance, courts embroiled in partisanship, and leaders who speak of “unity” but practice division. Here, the abdication of leadership is the gravest; a nation that cannot keep its people safe or its institutions whole cannot rightly claim to represent freedom.

Indeed, a creeping sense of betrayal is replacing the once-innocent notion of the American Dream. What was once considered a birthright — the chance to work toward a better life, own a home, raise a family in security — has devolved into a lottery of luck, not effort. Today’s young Americans are saddled with insurmountable debt, soaring housing costs, and a job market that offers little assurance of stability, let alone prosperity.

In truth, the American political system — with its sprawling bureaucracy, entrenched interests, and grandiose posturing — now functions less as a democracy and more as a series of feudal rivalries among competing factions, each with a vested interest in maintaining their own slice of power. It has left the common American with two choices: allegiance or apathy, as neither party now seems truly capable of meeting the nation’s needs.

The American Dream, if it survives this political era, will not be thanks to the parties’ figureheads or their well-worn rhetoric. Rather, it will survive if there is a rekindling of civic responsibility and a return to the ideals upon which this country was founded: responsibility, restraint, and respect for individual dignity and communal welfare. Perhaps that will not come from Washington; perhaps it will not come from the next president. But it is the only path forward if America is to emerge from its current morass with even a shadow of its promise intact.

And so, in this year’s presidential contest, the candidates may well announce their victory. But in a deeper sense, the only outcome is a loss — one that will be felt for generations. The American people are the losers of this election, having invested in parties that continue to mortgage their futures without so much as a pang of conscience.