We Must Have Compassion for Those On the Losing Side of the Presidential Election

Are you anxious about the results of Tuesday’s election? I’m right there with you. It will have enormous impacts on issues that affect all of us, many quite intimately: personal and religious freedoms, reproductive rights, immigration policy, the economy, and more.

As citizens, our greatest civic responsibility is to use our vote to manifest the values we care about. From its beginnings, our democratic system has always been an imperfect, fragile, and adversarial process for balancing voters’ competing ideals. Still, as the saying goes, "Democracy is the worst form of government except for all those other forms that have been tried."

Judaism has featured democracy for thousands of years, and − as such − bears legends of its vices and virtues. One evocative tale (from the ~1,500-year-old Talmud, a collection of Jewish literature) tells of a time when one Sage, Rabbi Joshua, was outvoted by his colleagues on a matter he was certain he had right. According to the story, even though Rabbi Joshua could use miracles to prove his argument superior, the other rabbis reminded him that in a democracy the majority rules − and Rabbi Joshua was alone. Trampling over the individual rabbi’s feelings, the majority soon incurred divine punishment − because, this text proposes, even in a divinely sanctioned democratic system, we must have compassion for those who lose the vote.

In the present, most who head into voting booths on Tuesday (or voted in advance) have great fervor for their opinions, even if they don’t consider American Democracy sacred. Most have polar opposite feelings regarding Donald Trump and Kamala Harris and anticipate that, should their preferred candidate win, their lives will somehow be better. Meanwhile, most voters carry great fear about the world where "the other one" wins. Harris voters will consider a Trump win cataclysmic; Trump voters will see a Harris victory as an apocalypse.

With that recognition comes the need to recognize another compelling civic responsibility: holding empathy for those who lose. We must remember that nearly half the country will experience what they consider a disaster sometime between this Tuesday and whenever the election is called.

A few implications of this:

First, if your preferred candidate wins, account for the raw emotions of those without such fortune. Don’t gloat. Don’t tell them to get over it. Give them space to grieve the future they’d hoped for and acclimatize to the reality in which they now expect to live. As a teacher in rabbinical school taught me (riffing off the well-known Gertrude Stein poem), "a loss is a loss is a loss." Every change is a loss, whether it involves death or not − and that even involves adjusting to changes from what was hoped for to what will be. If you aren’t giving those whose candidate lost space to grieve, you are not doing them justice.

Second, it is important to embrace the truth of others’ truths. I remember also learning in school (this time, in nursing school before becoming a rabbi) that "perception is reality." I bristled at the phrase back then, but I’ve since come to appreciate the wisdom it conveys. Perception may not be "reality," but it is as close to reality as matters for the person holding the perception. In electoral terms, that means that you need to take the fears and concerns of those who experience an electoral loss seriously − even if you think they’re, as Jews would say, narishkeit (i.e., nonsense). You might not believe that the world (or democracy) is coming to an end; however, a mourning Trump or Harris supporter might. You’re entitled to think they’re wrong. In a compassionate society, though, you’re obligated to care about their distress.

Lastly, to that end, here’s the reminder we all need: America’s democracy may be a zero-sum game, but that doesn’t mean our society needs to be so. This is doubly true in a politically mixed area like Southwest Ohio, where we mostly live in diverse communities.

If your family votes all the same way, your workplace likely doesn’t; if your workplace does, your house of worship won’t; if your house of worship will, then your friends might not. Somewhere in your life, you are more likely than not to have relationships with people of differing political views − and if you don’t, you should try to find some. If for no other reason, our country is split at this moment, and we all do better to know about, understand, and care for those with different mindsets and values than our own.

In the coming week, centering our two top civic responsibilities should be a priority: not just voting–and being passionate in so doing − but also being compassionate to whoever’s future will appear bleaker as the results begin to emerge. Our communities and future as a society will benefit from our efforts.