Political commentators often describe an issue in terms of the percentage of people who support or oppose it. “This is an 80–20 issue,” they’ll say, meaning 80 percent are on one side and 20 percent on the other. A more accurate assessment is that most issues in the United States tend to be “10–80–10 issues”: 10 percent firmly on one side, 10 percent firmly on the other, and 80 percent somewhere in the middle.
This 10-80-10 principle is often invoked to praise moderation and nuance, as if there were something inherently virtuous about moderation and nuance. In certain circumstances, such as determining marginal tax rates or devising diplomatic strategies, moderation and nuance can be beneficial. But when the conversation is about recognizing and protecting human rights, moderation and nuance aren’t just unhelpful; they are evil.
Another critical flaw of the 10-80-10 framework is that it presumes something fundamental about the 80% in the “middle” that may or may not be true. It treats their positions in the middle as a result of thoughtful internal deliberation. This can be the case, as many people naturally see the world in shades of gray.
But many remain in the middle on a given issue for a simpler reason: they just can’t be bothered. This isn’t necessarily laziness or dismissiveness. More often, their lives just aren’t structured in a way that allows them to formulate an opinion.
Their kids have band practice. There are bills to pay. They’re managing health issues while caring for elderly parents. They clock in and out of jobs that don’t give them the resources or margin to think through the long slate of issues in the daily news. For most, the barrier isn’t intelligence, but time.
Even so, it is a mistake to equate their “unburdened naivete” with neutrality. Usually, they have unknowingly taken a side, and it is almost always whatever side is whispering to them in the background of their community. Their position may remain hidden, even to them, until a high-profile, pivotal moment occurs in their lives or in the life of the nation.
A high-profile, pivotal event like, say, the public assassination of a political figure.
Out of the Shadows
After the horrific September 10 murder of Charlie Kirk, many understandably took to social media to express shock and prayers for Kirk’s family. This included his most devoted supporters and ardent critics, as well as people who generally present themselves as apolitical—i.e., a significant portion of the 80%.
Many in that latter group, however, went beyond expressing dismay to lionizing his legacy and defending his positions. This didn’t surprise communities that had been actively harmed by Kirk’s rhetoric. They know what the silence of the 80% means.
But those lulled into believing in the “neutrality” of the 80% were dismayed. We knew who would loudly broadcast falsehoods and dismiss Kirk’s record of racist comments. We were shocked, though, to discover their amen corner full of people we assumed knew better.
(If you’re picturing the 2016 SNL sketch that hilariously contrasted white liberal shock with African American reactions to Trump’s election, then we are on the same wavelength.)
For people who seek to co-create with God a world marked by justice, inclusion and peace, the 10-80-10 principle carries both hope and challenge.
The good news is that many in the middle can be transformed by a consistent stream of good-faith ideas as easily as they can be corrupted by bad-faith arguments. The distressing news is that the purveyors of harmful policies and theological distortions have been strategically working this game of influence far longer than we have—and they are much better at it.
To change the landscape, we must change our approach. There are strategy meetings, focus groups, and research initiatives taking place nationwide to develop more effective tactics. Some good ideas will emerge, but I fear many will replicate the same results we see today.
I am far less intelligent than most of the people in those high-level meetings, but I do have some thoughts on a path forward.
Stepping Out of the Ivory Tower
There is a reason Turning Point USA (TPUSA) centers its work on college campuses. It isn’t because of the myth that Kirk, its founder, loved “respectful, intelligent conversations.” It’s because, after the decades-long project of dismantling labor unions, the academy is the largest remaining institution where progressive ideas thrive.
When Kirk debated 20-year-old students, his goal wasn’t to engage in dialogue. His audience wasn’t his sparring partners. His goal was humiliation (which is why he rarely debated professors). His real audience was conservative students (mostly men) and those who would later watch TPUSA’s selectively edited videos.
Kirk’s goal was to portray the academy as weird, out of touch and, ultimately, dangerous. To prove him wrong about the danger, we must contend with the accusation of being weird and out of touch.
Higher education is (ideally) designed to combine the learning skills developed in childhood with the information gathered in young adulthood, producing greater understanding of how the world works. Much of the university’s work is exposing students to large amounts of information and equipping them with language to describe it precisely.
To those outside the academy—and even to those in higher education but outside a particular field—that precise, accurate language can sound weird and out of touch. Without lives structured to dig deeper, they choose an understanding of the world that is more accessible.
In his excellent September article for Good Faith Media, Dr. Randall Balmer addressed the need for scholars to engage the broader public with their ideas. I believe this is crucial if lasting change is to occur.
Engaging is just the start. Those in the academy, and those of us who feel more comfortable in our heads than on our feet, must leave exclusionary language at the classroom door and re-engage with the language of the streets.
The Words We Choose
In August, Politico reported on a memo the progressive think tank Third Way sent to Democrats, addressed to “All Who Wish to Stop Donald Trump and MAGA.” It began: “For a party that spends billions trying to find the perfect language to connect to voters, Democrats and their allies use an awful lot of words and phrases no ordinary person would ever dream of saying.”
The memo listed words Democrats should stop using, divided into six categories:
- “Therapy-Speak” (privilege, othering, centering)
- “Seminar Room Language” (Overton Window, cultural appropriation, existential threat)
- “Organizer Jargon” (stakeholders, the unhoused, food insecurity)
- “Gender/Orientation Correctness” (pregnant people, patriarchy, LGBTQIA+)
- “The Shifting Language of Racial Constructs” (Latinx, BIPOC, intersectionality)
- “Explaining Away Crime” (incarcerated people, involuntary confinement)
The memo has faults. It ignores the fact that language shapes reality, which means new terminology can resist systems of oppression (another phrase on Third Way’s nix-list). And some terms, such as “LGBTQ,” are now part of the common vernacular. Even an organization warning against being out of touch can itself be out of touch.
Still, while I am less concerned with Democrats winning elections than with creating a world where everyone can thrive as the people God created them to be, the Third Way memo is instructive. We would all do well to heed its warning.
Where do we start? May I offer a suggestion that may land me on the persona non grata list of my local Drinking Liberally chapter and get me in trouble with many in GFM’s audience?
While we must continue the fight to save democracy against the forces of Christian nationalism, can we reserve the terms “democracy” and “Christian nationalism” for our internal conversations? These words and phrases represent big ideas that carry little meaning to the vast majority of people. I fear we have repeated them so often and with such emotion that they’ve become security blankets we cling to as the world crumbles.
Extending Grace
People of good faith must continually recognize that what some call an “offensive” belief or policy is, in fact, a harmful one. We must remember the message of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in his “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” where he unmasked the hesitation of the white moderate as being as dangerous to the cause of civil rights as the Klan.
We must also realize that while churches hold year-long committee meetings to decide whether they can fully belong, our LGBTQ+ siblings are facing indignities and running for their lives because of policies and movements that literally want to erase them. These realities require boldness and determination.
It is 2025, and people have all the information they need to transform the world from exclusion to embrace. And yet we must hold that reality alongside a frustrating truth: although Christians love our story of Saul becoming Paul overnight, Damascus Road experiences are rare.
Transformation usually resembles Jesus healing the blind man in Mark 8. Between first contact and full sight, there was a middle stage where people looked blurry, like trees.
I am not so naive as to believe that many in the “80%” aren’t people who have already made up their minds but simply keep quiet. But if some are still trying to see—just needing someone to stay with them through the blurry moments of transformation—then those of us whose safety isn’t (yet) endangered by harmful ideas must walk with them until they see clearly.
If we make them afraid of messing up, we will lose them to the other 10%.
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Senior Editor at Good Faith Media.
