The Danger of Denial: How the Democratic Party’s Tactics Are Undermining Its Future

Abstract: If the Democratic Party keeps running the same playbook, it will keep losing. With each election cycle, the blame for these losses shifts—from “disengaged youth” to “reluctant progressives” to “swing voters who didn’t turn out.” But maybe it’s time to face a tougher truth: the problem isn’t with the voters; it’s with the party. If we want to see different results, we have to break out of the cycle of blaming everyone else and start by looking inward. Because the reality is, without a serious course correction, we’re setting ourselves up for failure—and for many of us, the stakes are too high to keep making the same mistakes.

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As a millennial, I was raised to believe in the power of democracy, fairness, and the importance of the people’s voice. Those values were instilled in us—values that, in many ways, defined what it meant to be a part of the Democratic Party. Yet, over the years, it has become increasingly difficult for younger voters like me to reconcile those ideals with the actions we see from the party we’re supposed to support.

We share these core values. Many of us grew up watching our parents and grandparents vote, believing they were helping build a fairer, more inclusive country. But as we’ve come of age, burdened by debts, limited job prospects, and a cost of living that far outpaces our wages, we’re starting to see things differently. From our perspective, the Democratic Party we’ve inherited isn’t fully living up to the promise of representing the people. Rather than engaging our generation with enthusiasm and policies that reflect the reality we face, it feels like the party prioritizes a pre-selected agenda—one that often leaves us out.

The intent here isn’t to point fingers or cast blame; we know the world is complex, and tough decisions are part of politics. But if we’re serious about moving forward together and rebuilding trust across generations, we need to look at what’s holding us back. A critical part of that means reflecting honestly on the past few election cycles and understanding why so many of us feel that our voices have been sidelined. Only by addressing these issues openly can we build a Democratic Party that truly represents us all.

To understand where we’re coming from, we’ve got to consider the millennial experience in America today. We’re a generation that’s had to navigate a world that’s very different from the one our parents grew up in. We entered the workforce during one of the worst economic downturns in recent history, and just as things seemed to stabilize, we were hit by another economic upheaval in 2020. For many of us, that meant student debt, unaffordable housing, and jobs that rarely pay enough to catch up.

These aren’t just “young people’s complaints”; they’re systemic issues that affect the futures we’re trying to build. When we look to politics, we’re not just looking for a candidate who can keep things as they are. We’re looking for leaders who understand that the status quo isn’t working and who are willing to make meaningful changes. That’s why many of us are drawn to progressive policies—policies that provide real solutions to the challenges we face, from tackling the housing crisis and health care reform to addressing the wealth gap.

Yet, time and again, it feels like these priorities are dismissed. Instead of embracing this growing desire for progress, we see a party that’s hesitant to push boundaries, that often favors incremental change or “safe” candidates over bold ideas. And when those “safe” candidates fall short of the promises they make, we’re left wondering if our concerns are truly being heard. Because these are the concerns of a generation that’s being left behind, and if the Democratic Party wants to inspire our generation, it has to show us that it’s not only listening but willing to act on the issues that matter most to us.

The first major event in recent memory that signaled the Democratic party had an agenda that left out millennials was the 2016 presidential primary. Many of us remember feeling excited, even hopeful, as we watched Bernie Sanders’ campaign gain traction. For the first time, it felt like we had a candidate who wasn’t just talking about change but embodying the kind of policies that directly addressed our reality. Sanders inspired young voters with ideas about affordable education, healthcare for all, and tackling corporate power—policies that resonated deeply with a generation facing mounting obstacles in a system that felt increasingly rigged.

But as the primary progressed, it became clear that the Democratic establishment wasn’t ready to embrace this movement. The superdelegate system, a tool that allows party elites to wield significant influence in selecting the nominee, quickly became a source of frustration. Despite Sanders’ growing support, superdelegates overwhelmingly backed Hillary Clinton from the start, making it feel as though the primary was decided before most votes were even cast. Even though Clinton was ahead in the popular vote 55% to 45%, the superdelegates weighed in at an unprecedented rate; 96% of the superdelegates cast their vote for Clinton. It felt like there was an agenda against the progressive ideas that millennials had put their hope into. The outcome left many of us disillusioned. Not because we disliked Clinton, but because we felt the process was skewed to favor the establishment’s choice over the grassroots candidate. The backlash from this primary forced the party to reduce the influence of superdelegates in future elections but the damage was already done—voters felt disenfranchised and shut out.

When Clinton ultimately lost to Trump in the general election, the frustration only deepened. We were told it was our fault for not turning out in greater numbers, that we should have rallied behind her regardless. But the reality is that the party’s own tactics played a large role in dampening enthusiasm and alienating potential voters. For a generation that’s already skeptical of big institutions, watching the party we’re supposed to support manipulate the primary process confirmed our fears. It felt like our voices didn’t matter—and that if the party didn’t value our perspective then, when would it?

Fast forward to 2020, and it felt like déjà vu. Once again, Bernie Sanders was inspiring a diverse coalition of young voters, independents, and disaffected Democrats who believed in his vision for bold, structural change. He was winning primaries and building momentum, and for a moment, it seemed like the party was genuinely on the verge of embracing a new direction. Sanders wasn’t just mobilizing the Democratic base; he was reaching voting blocs that traditional Democratic candidates often struggled with. Among young voters, he was the overwhelming favorite, earning 40% of their support compared to Biden’s modest 9% - with seven candidates still in the race. Beyond the party, Sanders also drew significant support from independents and even some Republicans, showing his ability to unite a broad coalition behind a shared vision for change. The party was on the verge of a new frontier that would grow a larger base than it had ever been able to in recent times.

In the days leading up to Super Tuesday in March 2020, the Democratic primary race saw a dramatic and rapid narrowing of the field. Several moderate candidates, including Pete Buttigieg, Amy Klobuchar, and billionaire Mike Bloomberg, suspended their campaigns and endorsed Joe Biden, consolidating support behind him. This left the primary largely a two-person race between Biden and Bernie Sanders, with Elizabeth Warren remaining in the race briefly before suspending her campaign and endorsing Biden. The swift endorsements and withdrawals presented Sanders with a unified front of moderate support coalescing around Biden, reshaping the dynamics of the race almost overnight. What began as a wide-open primary suddenly became a battle between the progressive momentum Sanders had built and the consolidated establishment backing Biden now commanded.

The decision to rally behind Biden was framed as a response to “electability concerns”—a claim often used to justify backing the “safe” candidate. But for many of us watching the race unfold, this reasoning felt questionable. Polls at the time showed Sanders polling competitively against Trump, with some even indicating he had a stronger chance than Biden. Sanders’ campaign also represented a sharp departure from traditional political funding, as he openly criticized corporate influence across the political spectrum. For many voters, this transparency and rejection of big-money donors felt like a refreshing step toward a more people-centered politics. Yet, the establishment’s quick pivot to Biden raised an uncomfortable question: were they genuinely focused on beating Trump, or were they worried about protecting a system where corporate contributions and insider influence still hold sway?

Now, don’t get me wrong—we understand that endorsements and alliances are part of politics. But for many young voters, the swiftness and unity of that shift felt orchestrated by the establishment, rather than driven by the voters themselves. Once again, the Democratic Party had effectively chosen its candidate, not by listening to its entire base, but by arranging the pieces in a way that secured the outcome it wanted. For those of us who supported Sanders, it felt like a reminder that our excitement and enthusiasm didn’t matter as much as protecting a predetermined path—and it’s this message that becomes the reason the Democratic party fails to gain broad support.

This goes beyond a single candidate or a single election. It’s about a pattern. One that shows a disconnect between the party’s leadership and the grassroots energy it claims to represent. The impact of these choices ripples far further than disappointment; it creates a growing sense of alienation. When the party repeatedly shuts down candidates who excite younger voters, it teaches us that our voices don’t carry weight in our own party’s decisions. And as a result, many in my generation are left wondering: if the Democratic Party isn’t going to reflect our priorities, then who will?

Then came 2024, when we saw perhaps the starkest example yet of the disconnect between the Democratic Party and its base. Despite significant concerns about running Biden again—given he had barely won four years prior by an incredibly slim margin, the party pushed forward without addressing these issues or encouraging any real debate. Voters worried about Biden’s cognitive abilities, with questions that were met by the establishment’s repeated assurances that “everything was under control.”

But as Biden’s age and health began to show more visibly, those concerns became undeniable. Still, the party maintained a defensive stance, dismissing persistent questions and reassuring the public that he was “just as sharp as ever.” That is, until the disastrous debate aired on live television around the nation, where it became painfully clear that Biden’s cognitive deterioration could no longer be hidden. By then, it was too late to pivot effectively. Instead of organizing a primary to let new voices emerge, the Democratic Party hastily put forward a handpicked candidate, bypassing the democratic process entirely. There was no chance for fresh perspectives to enter, no platform for progressive ideas, and no real opportunity for the party’s base to rally behind a candidate of their choosing. Had Biden exited the race early enough to allow for a genuine primary, perhaps Trump would not have secured another victory.

For many of us, this felt like the ultimate dismissal. We understand that the party may have been aiming to unify around a single candidate to prevent internal divisions, but this approach left so many of us feeling excluded. It was as if the party had decided that our voices, our votes, were secondary to the “bigger picture.” But what is the bigger picture if it doesn’t include the perspectives and concerns of an entire generation?

The decision to bypass a primary in 2024 is emblematic of a larger issue: the party’s reluctance to truly engage with the changing views of its base. Instead of earning our support by embracing fresh ideas and inspiring candidates, the party seems to assume that we’ll fall in line as long as they present us with a candidate who’s “not Donald Trump.” But the truth is, we want more than that. We want a candidate who speaks to our values, our struggles, and our hopes for the future. And when the party doesn’t even give us the chance to choose, it sends a clear message that our preferences are secondary to a pre-chosen narrative.

Make no mistake, this isn't about fairness, it's about recognizing the tactics employed by the party have serious repercussions: disengaged voters. Or even worse: turning Democrats into Republicans.

The results of this election make one thing clear: the Democratic Party’s traditional base is shifting. Many of the voters we relied on—working-class Americans, young people, Black and Latino communities—are no longer turning out as expected. Instead of explaining this away as these groups becoming more conservative, we need to ask why they’re stepping back.

For many, the answer is that they’re looking for real change that the Democratic Party isn’t offering. That’s why disillusioned voters are turning to Trump; he taps into their frustration and offers a sense that he’ll “shake up the system.” Despite contradictions in his actions, he makes people feel seen and gives them a sense of hope that change, any change, might finally come. This should be a wake-up call that there’s a genuine hunger for change we’re not meeting.

The lesson is clear: to regain trust, Democrats need to start addressing issues people face daily. Rather than relying on broad talking points, we need to speak directly to real struggles: like grocery costs, prescription prices, and rising housing costs, and offer tangible solutions. By tackling problems that transcend political party we can grow our base beyond the dwindling core.

Take prescription drugs: Americans pay some of the highest prices in the world, while the same drugs, which are often manufactured in America, are much cheaper across the border in Canada. We’ve let drug companies set these prices unchecked, and even created legal protections for high domestic prices. Imagine if Democrats led the charge to fix this by lowering prices and opening competition. The impact would be immediate for all Americans, felt not just in policy but in people’s wallets. What a great way to grow your support base.

Housing is another critical issue. Skyrocketing home prices have locked young people out of the market, and rent eats up incomes, leaving little for savings. Addressing this means addressing real policies to curb corporate buyouts, prevent price manipulation, and expand affordable housing options. If supporting a Democratic president meant gaining a real path to homeownership or affordable rent, young voters would turn out in droves. But right now, they have learned that no matter how much they rally, the current Democratic leadership will not create that path.

These are the issues that impact wallets, homes, and daily life. If Democrats present real, actionable solutions, it won’t just be talk, it’ll be proof the party is on their side. Acclaimed author Yuval Noah Harari observes that democracy is built on trust, while dictatorship relies on fear. If we truly believe in the merits of democracy, we must stop using fear tactics to rally our base and instead focus on earning trust by addressing the struggles people face every day. When voters see tangible improvements in their lives, they’ll vote out of trust and genuine excitement, not out of obligation.

This issue becomes even more troubling for those of us who believe in the values the Democratic Party claims to represent. While the party frequently criticizes Republicans for being beholden to corporate interests, Democrats continue to accept and rely on corporate donations, allowing those influences to shape their policy priorities. This isn’t just a perception—it’s a reality that impacts the policies the party is willing to fight for, frustrating a generation that feels the weight of unchecked corporate power in nearly every aspect of life. With nearly 60% of the Democratic base over the age of 50, many within the party may not fully experience or understand the new stressors created by a system rigged in favor of the powerful. For younger voters, these contradictions make it hard to trust that the party is truly fighting for a fairer, more equitable future.

Think about it: if we truly believe that corporations shouldn’t run America, why do so many Democratic candidates still take corporate money? Similarly, if we say we support a woman’s right to choose, why didn’t we codify Roe v. Wade when we had the chance, regardless of its political favorability? These contradictions don’t go unnoticed. They make us wonder if the party’s values are simply rhetorical, intended to win elections but not to guide actual policy. And when the party ignores its own standards, it doesn’t just undermine our trust, it undermines the very foundation of what it claims to stand for.

From our perspective, the Democratic Party can’t have it both ways. If we’re going to call out Republicans for their ties to corporate interests, then we need to hold ourselves to a higher standard. That means saying “no” to corporate money and being willing to make tough choices, even if they aren’t always politically expedient. Otherwise, we’re left with a party that’s not only failing to inspire but also failing to live up to its own principles.

For years, younger voters have been told that their lack of enthusiasm for certain candidates is a threat to democracy itself. When we express genuine frustrations about feeling unrepresented or voice concerns about unaddressed priorities, we’re often met with dismissive responses that make us feel blamed for caring too much—or not enough. This tactic feels like gaslighting, a way of framing our dissatisfaction as a personal failing rather than a response to real issues.

When the party relies on narratives like “vote blue no matter who” or implies that not supporting a candidate will lead to disaster, it shifts accountability onto voters rather than addressing why they feel disconnected in the first place. Voting should be an act of hope and confidence, not one driven by guilt or fear. Younger voters aren’t apathetic or irresponsible, we’re grappling with unprecedented economic challenges and an urgent climate crisis. Our push for leaders who share our priorities comes from a desire for real, systemic change.

This pattern of shaming and guilt-tripping is damaging in the long term because it fails to acknowledge why so many young people are feeling this way in the first place. We’re not apathetic, nor are we irresponsible. We’re a generation that’s struggling under unprecedented economic challenges and is deeply concerned about the future of our planet and society. When we push for leaders who reflect those concerns, it’s because we’re hoping for candidates who understand and share our sense of urgency.

Instead of engaging with these concerns, the party often resorts to shaming tactics that leave us feeling blamed rather than heard. When critiques are dismissed as “unrealistic” or “purist,” it deepens the divide, making us feel that our role within the party is conditional on conformity. Over time, this alienates entire demographics. If the Democratic Party truly values its younger members, it must work to earn our trust by addressing our concerns and building a shared vision for the future.

The Democratic Party has an opportunity to inspire a coalition united not by obligation, but by shared values and trust. To do so, it must move beyond symbolic gestures and empty promises to deliver meaningful action on the challenges voters face daily. Younger generations aren’t looking for slogans or optics, they’re looking for policies that reflect their reality and address systemic inequities head-on.

This begins with integrity. A party that claims to represent working people must reject corporate influence and prioritize policies that benefit the many, not the powerful few. This means fighting for affordable healthcare, housing, and climate solutions, even when doing so carries political risks. Making good on promises, like codifying essential rights, shows voters that the party is willing to lead with principles, not just rhetoric.

When the party takes bold action, it builds trust and loyalty that go beyond electoral cycles. Voters want to support a party that stands firmly for its values, even in the face of adversity. Imagine the energy of a Democratic Party that inspires turnout because it embodies the hopes of its base, not because it’s simply the “lesser of two evils.”

To our boomer allies, we ask you to see this from our perspective. Our frustrations aren’t rooted in laziness or disloyalty. They’re rooted in a belief that the Democratic Party has the potential to be a powerful force for change, if it’s willing to embrace the needs of the people it represents. We are ready to show up, to vote, and to work for a future that’s fairer and more inclusive. But for that to happen, we need a party that’s ready to stand with us not just in words, but in action.

The Democratic Party stands at a crossroads. Repeating the same tactics—selecting candidates behind closed doors, relying on corporate funding, and sidelining progressive voices—will lead to the same disappointing results. For too long, the party has placed blame on external factors, from voter apathy to Republican tactics, while ignoring its own role in these outcomes.

If we’re barely winning elections despite being the largest party, perhaps it’s not the voters who are failing the party, but the party that’s failing the voters. Each time progressives, young voters, and working families feel dismissed, we chip away at the foundation we need for long-term success. And when people vote out of fear or obligation rather than genuine inspiration, we risk creating a generation that no longer sees their vote as a voice.

The solution is simple: act on the values the party claims to represent. Stop sidelining grassroots energy. Stop making decisions out of fear. Focus instead on earning trust by building policies that reflect the lived experiences of all Americans. If we want to break the cycle of blame and disappointment, we must start by looking inward. Only through honest self-reflection and meaningful change can we build a party that thrives and grows stronger with each election.