Wrestling with the Trump win: here’s a deep explanation of how social isolation influenced his win

OPINION Matt Garvin

I, like many others have been doing some reflection following last week’s election result. I am more and more convinced we are in the midst of a massive societal shift that we are only now beginning to wake up to. This is part one of my reflection trying to wrestle with where we are and what it means.

Someone I love very much said yesterday, “Are Americans stupid? How could they elect a man like that?”

The truth is that while Donald Trump’s re-election has left half of America—and many around the world—bewildered and unsettled, the other half feels vindicated and empowered. Trump’s win feels like a reclamation of values and a rally against the traditional powers they believe have ignored them. 

Is there something profoundly morally wrong with people who voted for Donald Trump, or is something else going on?

It was interesting to watch the election unfold. I kept switching between FOX News, CNN, NBC, and PBS and saw that while they all reported on the same numbers, their stories about those numbers were quite different. 

It reminded me of a conversation with a good friend about Coronavirus Vaccines, The World Economic Forum and the “Great Reset”.  We lived in the same city and had access to the same data but lived from entirely different understandings of reality.

Was he morally deficient? Was he stupid?

Donald Trump is a gift to us because he reveals something far more important than the deficiencies of the Democratic Party’s political platform: We might be living on the same planet, but we can no longer pretend that we are living in the same worlds.

This is not a new phenomenon in human history, but it is a bit of a shock for those of us who grew up in what my children now call the 1900s. 

We grew up at the pinnacle of an era that assumed science, along with capitalism and democracy, would ultimately solve all the world’s problems and bring us into a new, exciting era of prosperity for all. When the Berlin Wall fell down in my final year of high school, it really did seem as though we were living through what Frances Fukuyama called “the end of history.” 

Fukuyama was wrong. It wasn’t the end of history but the beginning of the end of all the assumptions underpinning what we considered “normal.”

To understand the nature of the massive shift we are in the middle of, we need to take a moment to look back on the ideas and forces that shaped the society we inherited from our parents and grandparents.

The Enlightenment

During the Enlightenment, intellectuals and thinkers believed that human reason and science could unlock the mysteries of the universe and ultimately reveal a unified, objective reality. This period, which spanned the 17th and 18th centuries, marked a departure from reliance on religious or traditional explanations for existence, championing reason and empirical evidence as the most reliable ways to understand the world. Enlightenment thinkers were confident that by systematically observing and studying nature, humanity could uncover a single, coherent story—a rational order that governed everything from physical laws to human society. They aspired to develop a universal framework where each discovery would contribute to a grand narrative that explained existence in consistent, logical terms.

Philosophers like René Descartes, John Locke, and later Immanuel Kant argued that knowledge, grounded in empirical evidence and reasoned thought, could provide reliable truths. Descartes’ famous dictum, “I think, therefore I am,” encapsulated this belief in the power of reason as the basis of certainty. Science became the tool for unravelling nature’s laws, with Newtonian physics symbolising a universe governed by predictable forces, where every action and reaction could be calculated and understood. This mechanistic worldview inspired a belief that there was, indeed, a single objective truth accessible through systematic study, which could ultimately solve humanity’s most significant questions and lead to human progress.

However, this vision assumed that science would naturally lead to a shared understanding of reality, transcending subjective perspectives or cultural differences. Enlightenment thinkers often regarded science and reason as universal languages that could, in principle, unite humanity in a shared vision of truth. This perspective didn’t always account for the complexities of human experience or the cultural factors that shape individual perspectives. Over time, as scientific fields specialised and the limitations of reason became more apparent, the hope for a single, all-encompassing story began to wane, paving the way for the pluralism and relativism characterising much of modern thought.

The Enlightenment’s confidence in reason and science as the sole means of understanding reality laid the foundation for many of the institutions and societal structures we have today. Yet, it also set in motion a search for objective truth that some argue ultimately overlooked the richness of human experience, spirituality, and subjective understanding. 

Those most bewildered by Donald Trump’s rise have been shaped by an Enlightenment worldview that says there is a “right” way to see the world and that through education, we can help everyone see that right way. They fail to see that baked into our democratic societies, assumptions have resulted in increasing alienation for those who were not in control.

Trump’s election is less about policy and more about a fundamental shift in society. 

Democracy, as we understand it, emerged mainly from the ideals of the Enlightenment. These ideals were grounded in the belief that rational individuals could self-govern and create a fair society based on equality and justice. Thinkers like John Locke, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and Montesquieu championed ideas of liberty, individual rights, and the separation of powers, which were foundational principles that influenced democratic systems. 

The Enlightenment promised a new era of progress rooted in reason and science, where humanity could harness knowledge to improve society and advance human welfare. However, beneath its ideals lay an Achilles’ heel: the Enlightenment was ultimately driven by the pursuit of power through knowledge, and this pursuit often prioritised control over true wisdom or moral accountability. Enlightenment thinkers believed that understanding the laws of nature and society would give humanity the power to master the world, using reason to shape, control, and optimise human life. This focus on intellectual mastery fostered significant scientific and technological advances, yet it also introduced a mindset that often overlooked the complexity of human experience and the ethical implications of wielding knowledge as power.

This drive for control through knowledge led to a model where expertise became centralised among a privileged few, who acted as the gatekeepers of progress. Enlightenment ideals did indeed create the framework for democracy and public education, but these benefits were often accessible only to those who were already in positions of power. The “rational” societies envisioned by Enlightenment thinkers were typically structured by an elite class who retained their hold on political and intellectual authority in defining what constituted knowledge and progress. 

As knowledge became a tool for consolidating power, it effectively marginalised the voices of the less educated, the poor, and other groups outside the Enlightenment’s narrow definitions of who was “enlightened.” This exclusion reinforced social hierarchies, rather than dismantling them, under the guise of rational progress.

The Enlightenment’s belief in knowledge as a means to control nature also often translated into exploitative attitudes toward the natural world and human societies. Armed with scientific discovery and technological advancement, Enlightenment thinkers and their followers saw the earth and its resources as instruments for human ambition. This mindset justified colonisation, resource extraction, and social engineering practices, where knowledge was wielded to reshape entire ecosystems and cultures, often with devastating consequences. The Enlightenment drive to “know” and “improve” led to an arrogance that ignored the need for ethical balance, and this perspective helped foster a utilitarian approach that prioritised power and progress over respect for diversity, complexity, or sustainability.

The Achilles’ heel of the Enlightenment—its unrelenting focus on knowledge as power—thus revealed itself as society became increasingly driven by specialisation, expertise, and hierarchy. Rather than creating a world of shared understanding and empowerment, the Enlightenment’s legacy included systems that concentrated influence in the hands of a few, under the justification that they alone possessed the rational knowledge to guide society. These are the people Donald Trump was fond of calling “the elites.”

This concentration of power continued for much of democratic history. For centuries, a few privileged groups closely guarded knowledge and political influence. Universities, media institutions, and political structures were dominated by a small, educated class that effectively controlled information and policy. Most people had limited access to the knowledge needed to engage in democratic processes meaningfully, let alone challenge or reshape societal structures. Democracy, in practice, was thus a system where power remained in the hands of a few, despite ideals of equality and shared governance. This disparity shaped public discourse and kept marginalised voices from influencing policies impacting their lives, leading to a democracy that functioned for some but remained inaccessible to others.

However, technology has catalysed a massive shift in this dynamic. With the rise of the internet and social media, information that was once restricted to elite circles is now widely accessible to people from all walks of life. Individuals can access knowledge, share ideas, and mobilise support for causes on an unimaginable scale. Power structures that once relied on controlling the flow of information are now confronted with a landscape where ideas and voices can spread rapidly, bypassing traditional gatekeepers. This democratisation of information has empowered people to challenge the status quo, participate in political processes, and hold institutions accountable in previously impossible ways.

However, this shift has also brought challenges. While the availability of information can promote greater democracy and inclusivity, it also means that misinformation can spread quickly, and echo chambers can reinforce division. 

Today’s networked world forces society to reevaluate how we agree on fundamental truths and engage in democratic processes.

Time to review Democracy itself

Modern society rests on shared agreements and long-standing frameworks defining how we interact, value, and uphold public trust. Historically, these agreements were primarily set by a small, powerful group—typically wealthy, land-owning elites—who controlled information, established norms, and crafted the rules that structured society. 

This is evident as soon as you consider the founding fathers of either America or Australia. Through legal, social, and educational channels, these individuals and institutions dictated a social contract that governed everything from personal freedoms to public responsibilities.

Today, however, society is facing a paradigm shift. We live in a highly interconnected, networked world where access to information is widespread, and power structures are diffusing. With the rise of the internet and social media, information and influence are no longer centralised; they are distributed across diverse groups with varying voices and perspectives. This democratisation of knowledge has empowered individuals who previously had little say in societal norms to challenge established structures and assert their own influence.

This shift in power dynamics requires a renegotiation of our societal agreements. The old frameworks were designed for a time when a small, homogenous group controlled the societal narrative. But in a world where people from all walks of life now participate in the public discourse, a new social contract must emerge—one that includes and respects diverse perspectives and experiences.

For example, a recent Pew Research Center study highlights how social trust in traditional institutions, such as government and media, has diminished significantly in recent decades.[^15] People feel increasingly alienated from systems that they perceive as outdated or disconnected from their needs, leading to growing calls for a re-evaluation of how society’s foundational principles are defined and upheld. This trend was especially visible during the COVID-19 pandemic, when disagreements about public health measures highlighted deep divisions over authority, individual freedom, and community responsibility. The pandemic underscored the urgent need to reach a shared understanding that addresses both individual liberties and collective well-being.

The need for renegotiation extends beyond political institutions. Economic and social policies must also adapt to the voices of those traditionally marginalized, as illustrated by the growing wealth gap and calls for economic reform. The World Inequality Lab reports that income inequality has risen significantly in recent decades, with the top 10% of earners amassing wealth at unprecedented levels, while lower-income communities struggle to make ends meet. In a society where wealth distribution is increasingly scrutinized, new agreements that ensure equitable access to resources, opportunities, and social mobility are crucial for fostering stability.

Renegotiating these agreements also means addressing issues of representation and inclusion. Historically, policies often failed to consider the needs of poorer communities, racial minorities, and other marginalised groups. Today, diverse voices demand acknowledgment, calling for new frameworks that prioritise the dignity and worth of all people. This shift echoes John McKnight’s work on asset-based community development, which advocates for viewing individuals not as passive recipients of aid but as active contributors with unique strengths and perspectives.

For society to move forward, our new agreements must reflect this modern, networked reality. This means creating frameworks that value inclusivity, acknowledge disparities, and promote a unified, resilient society. Scholars like Robert Putnam emphasize the importance of “social capital” in strengthening the bonds of society, arguing that trust, community involvement, and mutual respect are essential for societal health.As we renegotiate these agreements, we are not only adapting to a more diverse society but actively working to bridge divides, foster understanding, and ensure that everyone can meaningfully participate in and benefit from the social fabric.

One indicator that many haven’t understood the seismic shift under their feet is that Trump’s politics is labelled populism. The reason Trump won so many votes is that many people felt as though those in power were serving themselves and not doing anything about the lived experience of those who didn’t enjoy the benefits of the knowledge and income that result from a college education. 

The other factor is that the truth is up for grabs.

At the same time that the Enlightenment promised that reason, science, and objective truth would lead to the promised land, another group of people advocated for the primacy of subjective experience, emotion, and individual creativity. 

While the Enlightenment championed rationality to uncover universal truths, Romantics believed that such a singular focus neglected the depth of human experience, which couldn’t be fully captured by logic or scientific inquiry. They argued that intuition, imagination, and personal experience provided unique insights into reality that were as valuable—if not more so—than those found through empirical study. This philosophy gave voice to aspects of life that were deeply personal, mysterious, and beyond systematic explanation.

Romantic thinkers like Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, and William Wordsworth argued that truth was not only found in observable phenomena but also the inner workings of the human spirit. They saw nature not merely as a system of laws to be studied but as a source of wonder, beauty, and spiritual insight. In their view, proper understanding came from a deeply felt connection to the world, an immersion in its beauty and mystery, and recognising the emotions it stirred within individuals. Rousseau, for example, famously critiqued the artificiality of Enlightenment society, suggesting that civilisation’s emphasis on rationality had alienated humanity from its natural goodness and spontaneous feelings. His work emphasised a return to simplicity, intuition, and an appreciation for the emotional life, viewing these as fundamental to human fulfilment.

Romantics also valued creativity and saw art as a powerful expression of human experience that transcended rational analysis. Poetry, music, and visual arts became central to Romanticism, as they allowed individuals to convey the nuances of their inner worlds, the passions and dreams that scientific language couldn’t articulate. Romantic poets like Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge used their work to evoke a sense of awe and reverence for nature and the human spirit, suggesting that each person’s inner landscape was as vast and complex as the physical world itself. They saw artistic expression as a means to explore the soul, delving into emotions, memories, and imaginations that defied Enlightenment rationality.

The Romantic movement, with its celebration of the human spirit, emotion, and personal experience, offers an essential counterpoint to the Enlightenment’s emphasis on reason and objective knowledge. Romanticism recognizes the depth and complexity of the human soul, valuing the uniqueness of each individual’s journey and the importance of connecting with the natural world, beauty, and mystery. This perspective aligns with the understanding that humanity is created in the image of God, possessing an intrinsic worth and capacity for awe, wonder, and creative expression. In a world that often prioritises logic over soulfulness, Romanticism reminds us of the sacredness of experiences that defy simple explanation—those moments of beauty, grief, and joy that move us toward God, inspire compassion, and deepen our sense of purpose. The Romantic insistence on valuing emotions and subjective experience as valid ways to understand reality honours the soul’s search for meaning and the capacity for authentic connection with others.

Yet, Romanticism also presents risks, particularly when it idolises the self or confuses personal truth with universal reality. By emphasising individual experience as the ultimate source of truth, Romanticism can lead to self-centred perspectives prioritising feelings over accountability and personal desires over communal responsibility. 

Romanticism fosters a view of the self as moral authority, drifting from the shared values that ground healthy communities. In its search for freedom and authenticity, the Romantic movement sometimes risks creating a society in which self-expression is elevated above self-discipline, and personal fulfilment can come at the expense of ethical responsibility.

Individualism and Transactionalism

This can foster a culture of relativism, where “my truth” becomes a justification for choices that may harm others or isolate individuals from a more significant, communal understanding of right and wrong. 

While Romanticism is at odds with Enlightenment thinking, they combined to create a dominant understanding that there are no longer big stories you can trust and that the only truth you can hold on to is the truth you discern for yourself. This means that uur society is moving from a shared understanding of objective truths to a landscape where individual perceptions hold equal weight with established facts. 

This shift is shaping personal beliefs and collective actions, creating a world where shared anchors are increasingly elusive. Historian Michiko Kakutani describes this trend as the “age of relativism,” in which truth is reinterpreted to fit personal agendas, eroding the cohesion that common standards once provided.[^1] 

As trust disappears, society shifts toward relationships defined by immediate gain rather than lasting connection. Social media amplifies this trend by rewarding behaviors designed to gain approval and validation rather than fostering authenticity. Sociologist Ralph Keyes explains in The Post-Truth Era that many today “don’t just tell lies but live lies,” creating online personas designed to please or impress rather than express genuine selves. This performative culture leads to shallow and ephemeral relationships, contributing to a society where true connection becomes increasingly rare. 

The democratisation of information has further complicated this landscape. The Internet and social media grant unprecedented access to knowledge, bypassing traditional sources like universities and established media. While this empowers individuals to self-educate, it also fuels the spread of misinformation, making it difficult to distinguish credible information from opinion. 

Jennifer Kavanagh and Michael D. Rich describe the rise of “Truth Decay,” where the decline in trust in media and institutions allows unverified information to gain traction.

In a world where, thanks to the Enlightenment’s dismantling of Religious systems and the Romantics’ prioritisation of subjective experience, a person’s deeply held conviction that the earth is flat holds more weight than any expert’s. I saw this firsthand as I saw people who have lived all their lives in Tasmania espousing strong opinions about Kamala Harris, deeply believing what they were saying despite the fact that the “facts” they were espousing had been fact-checked as false numerous times. There is no authority as strong as personal opinion.

For Christians, this is a very familiar story. It has deep echoes with the foundational story of our faith, found in the first couple of chapters of the Bible, where humanity’s decision to define good and evil independently from God led to alienation, confusion, and the fragmentation of truth.  As the book of Judges put it “everyone did as they saw fit.”

While a commitment to propagate your own worldview is not new, what is new is the social media echo chambers that enable social media influencers to reach people with blatantly untrue ideas.

Social media algorithms are designed to feed users content aligned with their interests and create a feedback loop that reinforces individual views while filtering out opposing perspectives. The reason for this is clear: money. People watch things that reinforce their worldview longer than things that challenge it, and therefore they see more advertisements.

This fragmentation allows isolated groups to amplify their beliefs and disengage from diverse viewpoints, leading to deeper polarization.[^9] Research from the Reuters Institute indicates that while many people have diverse media diets, those in echo chambers are increasingly susceptible to extreme views, which fuels societal division.

According to Susan Jacoby in The Age of American Unreason, such environments “create resistance to differing perspectives,” leaving little room for dialogue or understanding. 

First Published at faithreflections.org Matt Garvin is a baptist pastor in Hobart. Used with permission