Why fewer Americans speak up on political issues

UPI

3 days ago

Studies show that both Republican and Democratic supporters are now far more likely than in the past to view the opposing party with deep distrust. File Photo by Bonnie Cash/UPI | License Photo
June 26 (UPI) -- For decades, Americans' trust in one another has been on the decline, according to the most recent General Social Survey.
A major factor in that downshift has been the concurrent rise in the polarization between the two major political parties. Supporters of Republicans and Democrats are far more likely than in the past to view the opposite side with distrust.
That political polarization is so stark that many Americans are now unlikely to have friendly social interactions, live nearby or congregate with people from opposing camps, according to one recent study.
Social scientists often refer to this sort of animosity as "affective polarization," meaning that people not only hold conflicting views on many or most political issues but also disdain fellow citizens who hold different opinions. Over the past few decades, such affective polarization in the U.S. has become commonplace.
Polarization undermines democracy by making the essential processes of democratic deliberation -- discussion, negotiation, compromise and bargaining over public policies -- difficult, if not impossible. Because polarization extends so broadly and deeply, some people have become unwilling to express their views until they've confirmed they're speaking with someone who's like-minded.
I'm a political scientist, and I found that Americans were far less likely to publicly voice their opinions than even during the height of the McCarthy-era Red Scare.
The muting of the American voice
According to a 2022 book written by political scientists Taylor Carlson and Jaime E. Settle, fears about speaking out are grounded in concerns about social sanctions for expressing unwelcome views.
And this withholding of views extends across a broad range of social circumstances. In 2022, for instance, I conducted a survey of a representative sample of about 1,500 residents of the U.S. I found that while 45% of the respondents were worried about expressing their views to members of their immediate family, this percentage ballooned to 62% when it came to speaking out publicly in one's community. Nearly half of those surveyed said they felt less free to speak their minds than they used to.
About three to four times more Americans said they did not feel free to express themselves, compared with the number of those who said so during the McCarthy era.
Censorship in the U.S. and globally
Since that survey, attacks on free speech have increased markedly, especially under the Trump administration.
Issues such as the Israeli war in Gaza, activist campaigns against "wokeism," and the ever-increasing attempts to penalize people for expressing certain ideas have made it more difficult for people to speak out.
The breadth of self-censorship in the U.S. in recent times is not unprecedented or unique to the U.S. Indeed, research in Germany, Sweden and elsewhere have reported similar increases in self-censorship in the past several years.
How the 'spiral of a silence' explains self-censorship
In the 1970s, Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann, a distinguished German political scientist, coined the term the "spiral of silence" to describe how self-censorship arises and what its consequences can be. Informed by research she conducted on the 1965 West German federal election, Noelle-Neumann observed that an individual's willingness to publicly give their opinion was tied to their perceptions of public opinion on an issue.
The so-called spiral happens when someone expresses a view on a controversial issue and then encounters vigorous criticism from an aggressive minority -- perhaps even sharp attacks.
A listener can impose costs on the speaker for expressing the view in a number of ways, including criticism, direct personal attacks and even attempts to "cancel" the speaker through ending friendships or refusing to attend social events such as Thanksgiving or holiday dinners.
This kind of sanction isn't limited to just social interactions but also when someone is threatened by far bigger institutions, from corporations to the government. The speaker learns from this encounter and decides to keep their mouth shut in the future because the costs of expressing the view are simply too high.
This self-censorship has knock-on effects, as views become less commonly expressed and people are less likely to encounter support from those who hold similar views. People come to believe that they are in the minority, even if they are, in fact, in the majority. This belief then also contributes to the unwillingness to express one's views.
The opinions of the aggressive minority then become dominant. True public opinion and expressed public opinion diverge. Most importantly, the free-ranging debate so necessary to democratic politics is stifled.
Not all issues are like this, of course -- only issues for which a committed and determined minority exists that can impose costs on a particular viewpoint are subject to this spiral.
The consequences for democratic deliberation
The tendency toward self-censorship means listeners are deprived of hearing the withheld views. The marketplace of ideas becomes skewed; the choices of buyers in that marketplace are circumscribed. The robust debate so necessary to deliberations in a democracy is squelched as the views of a minority come to be seen as the only "acceptable" political views.
No better example of this can be found than in the absence of debate in the contemporary U.S. about the treatment of the Palestinians by the Israelis, whatever outcome such vigorous discussion might produce. Fearful of consequences, many people are withholding their views on Israel -- whether Israel has committed war crimes, for instance, or whether Israeli members of government should be sanctioned -- because they fear being branded as antisemitic.
Many Americans are also biting their tongues when it comes to DEI, affirmative action and even whether political tolerance is essential for democracy.
But the dominant views are also penalized by this spiral. By not having to face their competitors, they lose the opportunity to check their beliefs and, if confirmed, bolster and strengthen their arguments. Good ideas lose the chance to become better, while bad ideas -- such as something as extreme as Holocaust denial -- are given space to flourish.
The spiral of silence therefore becomes inimical to pluralistic debate, discussion and, ultimately, to democracy itself.
James L. Gibson is the Sidney W. Souers professor of government at the Washington University in St. Louis. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. The views and opinions in this commentary are solely those of the author.