What’s The Problem?

Michael Kraver
5 min readMar 28, 2021

I’m far from the first person to observe that our political system, as currently constituted, seems to trap us in an endless loop of “partisan warfare” where our two major political parties fight about everything all the time. Related to that, I’m far from the first person to observe that a large part of the problem is the way we consume media these days — with people “on the left” getting their news from MSNBC and CNN, and people “on the right” getting theirs from Fox News and Breitbart. We’ve landed at a point where the two parties seem to prioritize battling each other over finding whatever compromise might be available to address a particular issue, and the problem gets exacerbated by the way we consume our news.

How do those of us who care to be active participants in our nation’s civic discussion help break out of this destructive cycle?

I say… focus on the problems, not the solutions.

It’s counterintuitive, of course. From an early age, we’re encouraged to celebrate “problem solvers.” We all know that it’s easier to talk about a problem than to propose — let alone execute — a solution. So, generally, we try to move ourselves beyond simply talking about problems.

But, in our current political climate, I believe that focusing our talk on the problems we are trying to solve — rather than the solutions we propose — is the best path forward.

Think about it. On issue after issue, the two parties aren’t really fighting about what the appropriate solution should be. Rather, they’re fighting about which problems are worth addressing.

The current “debate” about policing reform (to the extent “debate” is an appropriate word to use) isn’t at all about what types of reforms should be pursued. At the margins, there’s a hint of a discussion about whether we should shift resources away from traditional “policing activity” and towards other services which might address the causes of crime and reduce the likelihood of violent interactions between police and the citizens they are supposed to be protecting. And there’s some discussion about whether changes should be made to the way police are trained and the way they are held (or not held) accountable. But, more fundamentally, we find ourselves in a shouting match about whether there’s a problem with policing as it’s currently practiced. If you believe that there is a systemic problem of racism underlying interactions between police and Black citizens, then you almost certainly sympathize with the Black Lives Matter movement. And if you do, then you don’t necessarily want to “defund the police” as some activists call for, but you’re almost certainly ready to listen to a range of possible approaches to addressing the issue of systemic racism. On the other hand, if you believe that the cops who have been caught on tape killing Black citizens are just “a few bad apples” among a largely honorable group of police officers, or that the Black citizens who died were responsible for putting themselves in the situation they were in, then “Black Lives Matter” probably feels like it elevates some people over others, while “All Lives Matter” strikes you as much more fair to everyone. And if you’re one of these people, you’re likely horrified at the idea of making major changes to policing — let alone the idea of “defunding the police.”

When the loudest angry voices on one side are constantly heard demanding “defunding,” and politicians on the other side demagogue their opponents as supporters of the “defund movement” even when those opponents explicitly say they are not, we only get driven further apart.

This is true on issue after issue. Consider climate change. Democrats and Republicans aren’t arguing about different solutions to the problem; they’re arguing about whether there’s a problem worth addressing at all. If you believe that our climate is changing in a way that will endanger many existing species, melt glaciers, strengthen hurricanes, and raise the average temperature, then you probably don’t care much about the details of a particular Democrat’s plan for how to address the problem — but you know you won’t be voting for the Republican who denies that the problem needs urgent attention. On the flip side, if you don’t view our changing climate as a problem to be prioritized, then you aren’t going to accept the regulations or spending that a Democrat proposes to address the problem, and you will be drawn towards the Republicans.

And consider healthcare. The Democrats and Republicans aren’t arguing over which side has the best plan to provide the best healthcare to the most Americans. Rather, they’re arguing over whether the problem of some Americans not having access to quality, affordable healthcare is a problem that the government should be more actively involved in addressing than it presently is. If you believe that the market works efficiently to ensure that most people get access to quality, affordable healthcare, then you don’t much care what “healthcare plan” a Republican politician proposes — but you know you prefer it to the more costly and more cumbersome alternative from her Democratic opponent. On the other hand, if you think too many Americans don’t have an acceptable level of healthcare under our current system, you will likely vote for a Democrat over a Republican nearly every time. Arguing about the details of any politician’s “plan” is largely a waste of time, outside the context of your own party’s primary election.

On the minimum wage, we’re not in a detailed debate about what the dollar amount should be; we’re in an argument over whether the current level is acceptable. If we agreed that each person working full time should be able to afford food and shelter, then everyone would recognize the current number needs to be raised, and we’d be left with a much narrower (and less polarized) conversation about what the number should be. On campaign finance, we’re not in a detailed debate about how to best limit the influence of the wealthiest Americans; we’re in an argument over whether their influence can be limited at all given the freedom of speech guaranteed by the First Amendment. If we agreed that a small number of Americans have too much influence, and that political donations are not “protected speech,” then we’d be left with a much narrower (and less polarized) conversation about how to strike the balance. On gun control, we’re not in a detailed debate about where the draw the line between individual freedom and community safety, we’re in a debate over whether “guns kill people” or “people kill people.” If we agreed that easy access to guns is a problem worth addressing, then everyone would recognize the need for more screening before someone could buy a gun, and we’d be left with a much narrower (and less polarized) conversation about what screening is appropriate.

On and on and on.

So, what should we do to improve our political dialogue? It seems to me that those of us who spend our time arguing about such things should spend that time arguing over which problems we think need to be prioritized, and why. If the winners of our elections are seen as having a clear mandate from the voters about which problems they want elected officials to spend time addressing — as opposed to a mandate for a particular solution to a problem that the other side doesn’t even believe is worth addressing — then maybe we can start to move beyond the gridlock and division which we all seem to recognize is a problem.

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Michael Kraver

When I grow up, I want to be an Op-Ed columnist. For now, my goal is simply to end today with fewer unreturned e-mails and texts than I had when I woke up.