Last night, on our drive home from dinner, my husband and I listened to The Run-Up podcast by The New York Times1. The episode introduced us to Monica, a Michigan Trump voter recently laid off from her job in the automotive industry. Through her story, the podcast brilliantly illustrated how, by simply listening to one Trump voter, we might begin to understand the forces that shaped this election—a reality we’ve both been grappling with.
Let me be clear….I don’t agree with Monica’s decision, and I genuinely believe a vote for Trump, will harm her and others, more than it will help. But what struck me in her story was not just her vote; it was her deep exhaustion. She was severely burned out.
We’re living in a country where burnout and desperation are pushing people to make choices grounded not in shared ideals, but in the instinct to survive another day. People like Monica are reaching for decisions that feel like lifelines, not endorsements of a larger vision. And as a Democrat, I’ve come to terms with a hard truth: we failed these people. We did not recognize this exhaustion for what it is—a crisis that goes far beyond any single election or political party. When people said they were overworked, that they didn’t know how they would pay their next bill or feed their kids, we didn’t listen nor believe them. And in turn, they acted out on the pain we ignored.
For Monica, her decision wasn’t about a specific policy stance or ideology. She spoke of wanting stability, something solid to stand on after losing her job. Hearing her, I could sense the depth of her fatigue, of simply needing relief. The truth is, we’ve entered an era where burnout has made personal survival take precedence over empathy, and where self-preservation overshadows the collective good. In an economy that’s pushed so many to the edge, can we really be surprised?
As of 2024, over 38 million Americans live below the poverty line, with basic costs like housing, groceries, and healthcare slipping further out of reach.2 Housing costs alone have risen over 150% in the past two decades, far outpacing wage growth and putting pressure on everyone from low-wage earners to middle-income families.3 A recent Deloitte study found that 77% of American workers experience burnout4, reflecting a system that’s draining people on EVERY level. When life’s essentials are increasingly out of reach, and people’s choices become desperate, can we really be shocked when people focus on their own immediate needs over the collective good?
And yes, this reality is even harsher for Black and brown communities, many of whom, surprisingly, voted for Trump in unprecedented numbers. As a Black woman, I understand the frustration toward these voters. I share them. But I also challenge us to remember that, for many people of color, “MAGA,” however misguided, may represent the first time they’ve felt remotely acknowledged by a system that has otherwise ignored or oppressed them. While we may see this choice as ignorant or straight-up dumb, we must also recognize that for some, the system has worn them down to such a point that even when “inclusion” is a pawn, it feels like hope. It’s a tragic reality—but for many, their “acceptance” into that world is a dream come true.
So, What Do We Do With This?
If you’re like me, you might be stuck in the “where do we go from here” phase of processing. How do we learn from this? This isn’t a call for excuses—MAGA’s ideology is toxic, and Trump’s policies are cruel, divisive, and racist. But it’s a call to ask different questions: Are we better off simply reaffirming our anger, or could we shift our focus to understanding the root of these choices and the desperation behind them? And, as a result of that understanding, could we begin to think through how we can move forward more effectively?
When burnout pushes people to make decisions based on immediate survival, it leads us here…to the breakdown of collective empathy and civic engagement. The challenge now is to consider how we can create conditions that restore hope—conditions that enable people to see themselves as part of a collective good again. Addressing this requires recognizing that burnout is not just a personal or workplace issue—it’s a national crisis that impacts our democracy.
Next time you hear someone dismiss burnout or downplay the effects of exhaustion, remember: this is about more than individual stress; it’s shaping our society’s choices. Unless we address the structural causes of burnout and financial strain, we risk a society that chooses out of fear and fatigue rather than hope and unity. I believe we can overcome this, but it begins with truly seeing the crisis for what it is.
Let’s take burnout seriously—because it’s no longer just personal, it’s a defining challenge of our time and our future.
There is so much goodness in this post — it was a wonderful read. Something piqued my interest though — the collective burn out that hits all of us from all angles, not just women (and men) who may have voted for Trump. It seems like such a deeper and more nuanced conversation...overworking, over-consuming without the actual time and space to decipher truth vs fiction of the media and formulation of our own opinions. In states of burnout, moving fast, feeling depleted, and overworking...there's so much less time to actually do proper research, consume non-traditional media, have curious conversations, and participate in life. Unfortunately, this is how we stay isolated and siloed in our bubbles — we don't have the capacity for curiosity and that turns into reactivity. Food for thought as burnout culture affected both sides...just in different ways.
I forwarded this to so many people. Thank you!