In JM Barrie’s “Peter Pan,” Tinker Bell, that famous little blonde fairy from the 1953 Disney film, relies on the belief of others for her survival. During the play, she’s brought back to life by the audience’s applause. From what I understand, this applause has never been withheld, and so she lives on at the end, regardless of how much belief is truly there.
This notion, sometimes referred to as the “Tinkerbell effect,” suggests that belief can make things real, and it resonates in both academic circles and popular culture. I’ve started noticing a similar theme in democratic politics. And while I suppose it could also apply to Republicans, my experience is mostly rooted in the progressive side, where I’ve spent quite a bit of time.
This progressive “Tinkerbell politics” asserts that losses in elections happen because we fail to nominate true believers—those who champion progressive ideals without compromise—or perhaps simply because we didn’t believe hard enough as a collective. In this narrative, any defeat gets pinned on individuals deemed not passionate or faithful enough. It’s an emotionally convenient way to handle disappointment, maintaining a sense of moral superiority without delving into what voters truly want or dislike about our message. The focus is just on dismissing the non-believers, and then—victory will, somehow, follow.
My recent experiences support this view. Since entering the TV commentary scene, I’ve had to navigate several conservative dynamics. On these shows, I try to be strategic with my messaging, toning down my language and steering clear of the caricatures that conservative audiences expect, regarding the “Harris Campaign and the Biden Administration.” Sure, I can’t claim to be perfect, but I find these guiding principles useful.
During one particular segment, a conservative host inquired about the historically low approval ratings for the Democratic Party. I responded simply: Democrats need to focus on living costs, a major concern for most voters, while being a broad enough party to include both Bernie Sanders and Joe Manchin. Without a coalition that holds a congressional majority, we wouldn’t have achieved significant progressive legislation like the Affordable Care Act or the Inflation Reduction Act.
Not long after, a distant acquaintance commented on my video, saying something like, “Forget that noise. Everyone who voted against us is wrong.” He seemed to reject the idea of a big tent and implied that he enjoyed telling the conservative hosts and audience they were mistaken. But can that really persuade anyone? Even with a friendly crowd, proclaiming righteousness doesn’t exactly create alliances or win over hearts.
I’m not advocating for some grand persuasion theory. Each campaign I’ve been part of has challenged “conventional wisdom,” teaching me new lessons. Yet the core belief remains unchanged: politics is about adding to your coalition. In our divisive country, humility regarding our own beliefs is crucial, as is the willingness to understand voters’ views.
Some progressives might interpret this as a push towards moderation, but that’s not my intention. In that TV segment, Democrats could have portrayed themselves as too progressive, which would’ve gotten applause. But I didn’t throw any progressives under the bus. I truly believe that discussions around economic equality can lead to electoral success. However, being far-left on every issue isn’t always the best strategy, and dismissing those who disagree with us is frankly a political misstep.
In the end, it’s relatively straightforward. Adding to the coalition is what creates that fairy dust. Winning, at its simplest, is about having just one more vote than your opponent. And that’s the kind of voter I want under the Democratic tent.
