3 min read

Thinking Deeply

Thinking Deeply
Photo by Kenny Eliason / Unsplash

A few days ago, I made a decision that caused a stir among my friends and acquaintances. I announced my change from voting as a moderate Democrat to supporting Republican candidate Donald Trump. Having lived in Seattle for over a decade, most of my social circle is liberal. The reaction was quick and intense, and looking back, it revealed a lot.

The criticism that stood out most was that the supporting document I wrote focused only on party platforms—basically, campaign promises. Critics said I should have looked more closely at past actions instead of published platforms. It's a fair point, to some extent. But saying I should completely ignore campaign promises? That goes too far.

What really surprised me was that most friends couldn't or wouldn't give specific reasons for disagreeing with me. Instead, they called me intentionally misleading and credulous, or said they were shocked and disappointed. Many repeated talking points that were clearly false or greatly exaggerated. A quick internet search could have disproved these claims, but few seemed willing to check their own beliefs.

I want to clarify that I didn't base my opinion solely on party platforms. However, I did focus my analysis on the platforms to try to remove candidate personalities from the decision. I believe this approach allows for a more objective comparison of the parties' stated goals and policies.

This experience made me think deeply about how people form their political opinions. I suspect that most of us are just repeating talking points we've heard. We grab onto simple explanations that fit our existing beliefs, then spread them without thinking more deeply.

Take the abortion debate, for example. It's often presented only as a women's health or humanitarian issue. But when you look closer, you see it's based on fundamental beliefs about human life. I don't know any pro-life women who think women should have fewer rights. They just have different beliefs and values about life itself—specifically, when it begins.

This realization made me question how much thought people put into their stated positions. How often do we really examine the basic reasons for our beliefs? It's a sobering thought.

I've come to see this as a natural, but unfortunate, human tendency. We adopt positions based on surface-level reasoning, approach new information with bias, and resist evidence that contradicts our views. It's comfortable, but it doesn't help us grow or understand others.

Consider the recent news about presidential tax plans. At first glance, the larger deficit projected under Trump's plan seems irresponsible. But a closer look reveals details often missed in quick news reports. When you factor in long-term GDP impact and resulting tax revenue changes, the plans' outcomes aren't as different as they first appear.

The main differences are in the specifics of action, time frames, and ways to measure success. The Republican plan focuses on short-term, easily trackable outcomes, while the Democratic plan aims for longer-term infrastructure improvements that are harder to measure.

I prefer quick action and fast results because it encourages accountability. It also allows for adjustments if things aren't working as intended. This preference, though not always stated, likely affects my political views on which plan I think is better. Even if my analysis might be wrong, I've at least tried to analyze the situation.

What I've found is that not everyone does this. Many people just guess what the outcome will be, or blindly trust what others say the outcome will be. The problem is that there aren't many good executors in the world (people who get things done), and this is especially true in the United States government.

As I think about this experience, I'm struck by how important it is to think deeply. It's not enough to accept simple explanations or party positions. We owe it to ourselves—and to our democracy—to look closer, to question our assumptions, and to have meaningful conversations with those who disagree with us.

This experience has strengthened my commitment to critical thinking and being open-minded. It reminds me that true understanding often comes from outside our usual circles of agreement. As we navigate the complex world of modern politics, we should challenge ourselves to think more deeply, question more thoroughly, and engage more meaningfully with different perspectives.

After all, it's not just about being right—it's about understanding why we believe what we believe, and being open to the possibility that we might be wrong. That's what thinking deeply means, and it's a practice I'm committed to developing, both in my political views and in life in general.