Nieman Lab.
Predictions for
Journalism, 2025.
In the summer of 2016, a chance encounter while walking through downtown Manhattan provided an unexpected lens into the fractured dynamics of American politics and our state of civil discourse. I was engaged in a discussion about the election with a friend when a middle-aged white man approached us, two Black men, and politely asked to join our conversation. Despite the potential for tension, he candidly shared his reasons for voting for Donald Trump.
He recounted the devastating impact of losing his full-time job during the Great Recession — plunging him into years of underemployment. His disappointment with what he perceived as Barack Obama’s unfulfilled promises of economic improvement and letting “bad bankers go free” left him disillusioned with traditional political avenues.
While he expressed an earnest respect for Hillary Clinton, he explained “I know if she wins, nothing will fundamentally change in my life. I’ll probably never get back on my feet into my 60’s. With Trump there is a chance. He might be a disaster, but he might be great. I’m willing to take the risk.”
This experience deeply resonated with me. It helped me understand for the first time a perspective of political discontent driving many to seek change through unconventional candidates. This encounter was not merely about one man’s political choice; it reflected a deeper narrative of frustration and aspiration shared by countless individuals across the country.
This conversation challenged my understanding of why individuals might turn to a candidate they perceive as a disruptor, regardless of the controversies surrounding him. Voters often respond to lived experiences of economic hardship, and their decisions cannot be reduced to mere ideological alignments. It illuminated the significant role of civil discourse in our society and the pressing need to create environments that foster meaningful conversations and understanding.
The man’s willingness to share his story — candidly — emphasized how vital it is for us to establish an open dialogue where different viewpoints are not only heard but respected. Not everyone is going to be willing to bravely tell a stranger their potentially contrarian view. And not everyone will be receptive and respectful as me and my friend were in listening to this stranger. And as the results of that election and this year’s revealed, that stranger’s perspective was not novel.
Most public conversations are represented by the loudest and most polarized voices, while the majority of people who hold complex and nuanced views remain silent. I call these people “The Quiet Majority,” which refers to the majority of people who do not engage in public discourse for several reasons including social punishment, career vulnerability, and the fear of being mislabeled as hateful. Most people share their true thoughts in what I call “trust spaces.”
The publications of the future that will earn and maintain the respect and credibility of the public across ideologies and perspectives will be those that find ways to cultivate physical and digital trust spaces in the public square and welcome the quiet majority. What is vital here is the recognition that civil discourse can only flourish in environments where trust is cultivated. The ease with which individuals feel comfortable sharing their viewpoints stems from their perception of the safety of their environment — both physical and digital.
Trust spaces are environments where individuals feel secure enough to share their thoughts and ideas without fear of judgment or retribution. These spaces foster emotional safety and encourage open dialogue — establishing the foundation for effective civil discourse. These are not always formal spaces. In fact, I believe the most common trust space exists on messaging platforms. They are our group chats composed of our closest family and friends, who we feel comfortable enough to disagree with, and whom we will also not disown for sharing ideas we may find troublesome.
Digital trust spaces
From 2019 to 2023, I researched what I coined private digital messaging networks (PDMNs). These are closed messaging groups where communities of people share culturally relevant information related to some of their most salient identities. They can be Discord channels, Slack communities, and the platform I focused on the most, WhatsApp groups. My original intent was to explore messaging as a news delivery service for immigrant diaspora groups.
Communities of people with especially salient identities, that are not served by a well funded and consistent media, find ways to form groups and share collected content that is culturally relevant. I studied immigrant diaspora groups, but PDMNs could also be for gamers, red pill-ers, etc.
My experiences studying immigrant diaspora WhatsApp groups during the COVID-19 pandemic reinforced the urgent need for such trust spaces. These digital channels often became battlegrounds for misinformation and fear. This left participants desperate for safe environments where they could share opinions and seek clarity that was culturally relevant and shared by a close connection, and therefore more trustworthy.
Participation in these informal messaging groups revealed a stark reality. People were eager to share thoughts within smaller, trusted circles, but shied away from broader platforms where they risked being marginalized for their views.
Physical trust spaces
At Harvard, I observed how student engagement in dialogic spaces revealed another layer to this complicated issue. Many students intentionally avoided public forums due to fears of being labeled or ostracized. Their readiness to communicate in trusted circles stood in stark contrast to their reluctance in broader discussions aimed at dialogue. This alarming gap emphasizes the critical need to create an environment conducive to open, candid exchanges.
During informal conversations, students articulated their rich perspectives, often laden with nuance, yet when confronted with public or even open platforms, they withdrew. Their concerns centered around potential reputational harm, the risk of backlash, and fear of being classified with derogatory labels such as “phobic” or “bigoted.” This trepidation illustrates the profound impact of trust — or the lack thereof — on civil discourse.
Fear of these consequences transcends political affiliations and is prevalent in various discussions across academic institutions, workplaces, and community forums. Many individuals hold valuable insights but hesitate to voice them due to the potential backlash that may follow.
What do we do if our views do not fit within the dominant narratives? What occurs when someone feels the need to carefully navigate conversations to avoid being labeled negatively, and omits valuable insight out of fear?
What happens is we all lose. We lose because someone we trust might be the one who effectively allows you to see an issue in a different light. But if we collectively stay silent, we rob our communities of our best ideas and the opportunity for us all to grow collectively.
The role of journalists
The obligations of journalists extend beyond mere reporting; we must encompass the creation of a genuine forum for discourse. Journalists can pave the way for healthier civic engagement by finding ways to foster spaces that encourage complex and nuanced dialog. Establishing these trust spaces becomes crucial in bridging divides and nurturing a more inclusive democracy.
As we navigate the complexities of contemporary society, the responsibility to engage in open dialogue rests with all of us. By actively creating trust spaces, we can foster an environment where every voice is heard and every opinion respected. In doing so, we enhance the fabric of our democracy, ensuring that our civic conversations reflect the rich diversity of experiences that shape our collective narrative. Only then can we pursue solutions rooted in understanding, bridge gaps, and cultivate a united society.
The opportunity for transformation lies within our grasp; we need only choose to embrace it in our day-to-day interactions, inviting all perspectives to the table. If we want to hear the quiet majority, we must prioritize listening.
Michael Rain is the founder of ENODI and senior fellow in civil discourse at Harvard’s Safra Center for Ethics.
In the summer of 2016, a chance encounter while walking through downtown Manhattan provided an unexpected lens into the fractured dynamics of American politics and our state of civil discourse. I was engaged in a discussion about the election with a friend when a middle-aged white man approached us, two Black men, and politely asked to join our conversation. Despite the potential for tension, he candidly shared his reasons for voting for Donald Trump.
He recounted the devastating impact of losing his full-time job during the Great Recession — plunging him into years of underemployment. His disappointment with what he perceived as Barack Obama’s unfulfilled promises of economic improvement and letting “bad bankers go free” left him disillusioned with traditional political avenues.
While he expressed an earnest respect for Hillary Clinton, he explained “I know if she wins, nothing will fundamentally change in my life. I’ll probably never get back on my feet into my 60’s. With Trump there is a chance. He might be a disaster, but he might be great. I’m willing to take the risk.”
This experience deeply resonated with me. It helped me understand for the first time a perspective of political discontent driving many to seek change through unconventional candidates. This encounter was not merely about one man’s political choice; it reflected a deeper narrative of frustration and aspiration shared by countless individuals across the country.
This conversation challenged my understanding of why individuals might turn to a candidate they perceive as a disruptor, regardless of the controversies surrounding him. Voters often respond to lived experiences of economic hardship, and their decisions cannot be reduced to mere ideological alignments. It illuminated the significant role of civil discourse in our society and the pressing need to create environments that foster meaningful conversations and understanding.
The man’s willingness to share his story — candidly — emphasized how vital it is for us to establish an open dialogue where different viewpoints are not only heard but respected. Not everyone is going to be willing to bravely tell a stranger their potentially contrarian view. And not everyone will be receptive and respectful as me and my friend were in listening to this stranger. And as the results of that election and this year’s revealed, that stranger’s perspective was not novel.
Most public conversations are represented by the loudest and most polarized voices, while the majority of people who hold complex and nuanced views remain silent. I call these people “The Quiet Majority,” which refers to the majority of people who do not engage in public discourse for several reasons including social punishment, career vulnerability, and the fear of being mislabeled as hateful. Most people share their true thoughts in what I call “trust spaces.”
The publications of the future that will earn and maintain the respect and credibility of the public across ideologies and perspectives will be those that find ways to cultivate physical and digital trust spaces in the public square and welcome the quiet majority. What is vital here is the recognition that civil discourse can only flourish in environments where trust is cultivated. The ease with which individuals feel comfortable sharing their viewpoints stems from their perception of the safety of their environment — both physical and digital.
Trust spaces are environments where individuals feel secure enough to share their thoughts and ideas without fear of judgment or retribution. These spaces foster emotional safety and encourage open dialogue — establishing the foundation for effective civil discourse. These are not always formal spaces. In fact, I believe the most common trust space exists on messaging platforms. They are our group chats composed of our closest family and friends, who we feel comfortable enough to disagree with, and whom we will also not disown for sharing ideas we may find troublesome.
Digital trust spaces
From 2019 to 2023, I researched what I coined private digital messaging networks (PDMNs). These are closed messaging groups where communities of people share culturally relevant information related to some of their most salient identities. They can be Discord channels, Slack communities, and the platform I focused on the most, WhatsApp groups. My original intent was to explore messaging as a news delivery service for immigrant diaspora groups.
Communities of people with especially salient identities, that are not served by a well funded and consistent media, find ways to form groups and share collected content that is culturally relevant. I studied immigrant diaspora groups, but PDMNs could also be for gamers, red pill-ers, etc.
My experiences studying immigrant diaspora WhatsApp groups during the COVID-19 pandemic reinforced the urgent need for such trust spaces. These digital channels often became battlegrounds for misinformation and fear. This left participants desperate for safe environments where they could share opinions and seek clarity that was culturally relevant and shared by a close connection, and therefore more trustworthy.
Participation in these informal messaging groups revealed a stark reality. People were eager to share thoughts within smaller, trusted circles, but shied away from broader platforms where they risked being marginalized for their views.
Physical trust spaces
At Harvard, I observed how student engagement in dialogic spaces revealed another layer to this complicated issue. Many students intentionally avoided public forums due to fears of being labeled or ostracized. Their readiness to communicate in trusted circles stood in stark contrast to their reluctance in broader discussions aimed at dialogue. This alarming gap emphasizes the critical need to create an environment conducive to open, candid exchanges.
During informal conversations, students articulated their rich perspectives, often laden with nuance, yet when confronted with public or even open platforms, they withdrew. Their concerns centered around potential reputational harm, the risk of backlash, and fear of being classified with derogatory labels such as “phobic” or “bigoted.” This trepidation illustrates the profound impact of trust — or the lack thereof — on civil discourse.
Fear of these consequences transcends political affiliations and is prevalent in various discussions across academic institutions, workplaces, and community forums. Many individuals hold valuable insights but hesitate to voice them due to the potential backlash that may follow.
What do we do if our views do not fit within the dominant narratives? What occurs when someone feels the need to carefully navigate conversations to avoid being labeled negatively, and omits valuable insight out of fear?
What happens is we all lose. We lose because someone we trust might be the one who effectively allows you to see an issue in a different light. But if we collectively stay silent, we rob our communities of our best ideas and the opportunity for us all to grow collectively.
The role of journalists
The obligations of journalists extend beyond mere reporting; we must encompass the creation of a genuine forum for discourse. Journalists can pave the way for healthier civic engagement by finding ways to foster spaces that encourage complex and nuanced dialog. Establishing these trust spaces becomes crucial in bridging divides and nurturing a more inclusive democracy.
As we navigate the complexities of contemporary society, the responsibility to engage in open dialogue rests with all of us. By actively creating trust spaces, we can foster an environment where every voice is heard and every opinion respected. In doing so, we enhance the fabric of our democracy, ensuring that our civic conversations reflect the rich diversity of experiences that shape our collective narrative. Only then can we pursue solutions rooted in understanding, bridge gaps, and cultivate a united society.
The opportunity for transformation lies within our grasp; we need only choose to embrace it in our day-to-day interactions, inviting all perspectives to the table. If we want to hear the quiet majority, we must prioritize listening.
Michael Rain is the founder of ENODI and senior fellow in civil discourse at Harvard’s Safra Center for Ethics.
