Why I’ve Always Been Politically Independent

(and Why That Still Matters)

I’ve been registered politically unaffiliated for my entire life. Not because I don’t care. Not because I’m disengaged. But because I’ve seen too much to pretend one story explains the whole world.

I was raised by conservative Republican grandparents. Most of my friends are liberals registered as Democrats. I’ve worked for Republicans. I’ve worked for Democrats.

I was a White House intern under President Bush. I spent most of my time at the Executive Office of the President working under President Obama. I’ve voted across the aisle my whole life. I’ve known and loved people on both sides.

Here’s what I’ve learned: Most people mean well. What differs is the story they tell about how the world gets better.

We Are Creatures of Story

Humans don’t just debate policy--we debate narratives.

The left tends to tell a story centered on care, systems, and context. People struggle because of their environments, their experiences, and the systems they were born into. If we want better outcomes, we must design better systems and take care of one another collectively.

From this lens, conservatives look rigid, outdated, too willing to use force, too reluctant to contribute financially to the common good, and too tolerant of private profit alongside public suffering.

The right tells a different story. People succeed or fail largely because of personal choices, discipline, effort, and values. Responsibility starts with the individual, then the family, then the community, often the church. Government is inefficient, wasteful, and prone to corruption.

From this lens, liberals look idealistic but out of touch with reality, dismissive of fiscal constraints, and too quick to externalize responsibility rather than expect people to rise.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: Both sides are right. And both sides are wrong. Each is seeing half the picture.

Half a Lens Is Still Blind

When you block one eye, you don’t get a clearer image, you lose depth perception.

Politics today rewards monocular thinking. Pick a side. Adopt the narrative. Defend it reflexively. Belonging matters more than understanding.

But reality is not flat. It’s three-dimensional.

Human behavior is shaped by both personal agency and systems. Effort matters and environments matter. Community care matters and responsibility matters.

To fix complex problems, we don’t need one lens that sees 180 degrees. We need 360-degree vision. That’s why I value being independent.

The Problem with Party Allegiance

Joining a political party increasingly means pledging loyalty to a group identity. It means preloading your conclusions. It means defending outcomes you would otherwise question.

That’s not thinking. That’s outsourcing your conscience.

And meanwhile, regardless of who we elect, the machinery remains largely the same: Dysfunctional. Bureaucratic. Slow. Often harmful.

Look at the criminal justice system. Look at war. Look at systems that punish rather than heal, extract rather than uplift.

At some point, participation without reflection becomes complicity.

A Bigger Question We’re Avoiding

Almost no one stops to ask the question that actually matters: If we were redesigning self-governance from scratch today, what would it look like?

Instead, we argue inside inherited structures that no longer fit the world we live in.

We’ve divided ourselves into nearly 200 nation-states, each with its own bureaucratic machinery and moral narratives. That story allows us to otherize people we’ve never met, call them “the bad guys,” and justify atrocities in the name of righteousness.

Both sides always believe they are the good guys.

That narrative is old. And dangerous.

It may have worked when villages fought villages. It does not work for a globally interconnected species with nuclear weapons, mass surveillance, and AI.

Where I Land

I don’t have all the answers. But I know this: When we reduce reality to one story, we become fragile. When we dehumanize the other side, we become capable of anything. When we stop questioning the structures themselves, we lock ourselves into cycles of harm.

Independence, for me, isn’t neutrality, it is responsibility. It’s the refusal to surrender my thinking to a tribe. It’s the insistence on seeing more than one truth at a time.

Maybe the work ahead of us isn’t choosing the “right” side...maybe it’s growing into the kind of humans capable of governing ourselves without needing enemies.