(Or At Least Not Screaming into a Pillow Every Night)
Let’s face it: following politics in the 21st century is a bit like watching a dumpster fire that occasionally explodes into a clown car. One moment you're reading about a proposed bill to fund clean energy, the next minute someone’s trying to ban books, defund libraries, and declare that birds aren't real. It’s exhausting, infuriating, and, frankly, ridiculous.
And yet, you want to stay informed. You don’t want to be that person at dinner who asks, “Wait, what’s a government shutdown again?” or worse, “What’s Roe v. Wade? Was that a court case or a new Netflix series?” But trying to follow politics without going full-tilt cynical hermit is a skill—nay, a survival tactic.
Welcome, dear reader, to your crash course in not going absolutely feral while staying politically literate. Yes, it’s possible. No, it doesn’t involve building a bunker. Probably.
Step 1: Accept That Everyone’s Lying, But Some Are Lying More
Here’s a fun fact: politicians lie. I know, gasp! Stop the presses! Whether it's stretching the truth like it’s yoga class or outright conjuring fantasy nonsense that would make Tolkien blush, politicians are in the business of spin. And news flash: both parties do it. But—and this is important—not all lies are created equal.
There’s a difference between “we’ve created 500,000 jobs” when it was really 300,000, and “climate change is a hoax created by vegan lizard people in Davos.” One is a fudge. The other is a gateway to QAnon, homemade hydroxychloroquine, and cousin Randy living off-grid in a van full of canned beans.
You don’t have to become a paranoid skeptic, but a healthy dose of “Hmmm, really?” can go a long way. Your new best friends: fact-checkers. Politifact, FactCheck.org, and good ol’ Snopes. Think of them as your political STD test—here to confirm whether what you’ve heard is safe to internalize or if you need to bleach your brain and start over.
Step 2: Pick Your Sources Like You Pick a Babysitter
If you wouldn’t trust someone to watch your child or your dog—or even your sourdough starter—why are you trusting them to inform you about geopolitics?
Not all media is created equal. Some of it is rigorous journalism. Some of it is performance art for angry boomers. And some of it is clickbait dressed up like a news site, with headlines like “You Won’t BELIEVE What This Senator Said About Hot Dogs!”
Avoid the extremes. Fox News and MSNBC are both basically op-eds with a budget. Facebook memes are not evidence. Twitter (sorry, X, or whatever Elon’s midlife crisis has rebranded it to) is not a source; it’s a screaming hallway where nuance goes to die.
Find a few outlets that strive for actual reporting. AP. Reuters. BBC. ProPublica. Hell, even NPR, if you can get past the smug voice of everyone who hosts it. You don’t have to agree with everything they say, but you do want people who still believe in, you know, verifying facts before running with a story.
Step 3: Stay Informed, Not Inundated
Being politically aware does not require mainlining C-SPAN like it’s Game of Thrones (although honestly, politics has more backstabbing and fewer dragons). If you're checking five political sites before breakfast and getting alerts every time a senator farts in committee, you’re doing it wrong.
Set boundaries. You can know what’s going on without drowning in it. Read the news once a day—maybe in the morning while you’re hate-sipping your coffee. Or get a summary email like Morning Brew or The Skimm, so you can stay in the loop without falling into a rabbit hole of despair.
Pro tip: DO NOT scroll through political TikTok before bed. That way lies madness. And possibly a dream where Mitch McConnell is your dentist.
Step 4: Know the Players, But Don’t Marry Them
Ah, the modern political celebrity-industrial complex. We now have politicians with cult followings, merch lines, and fan fiction. (Yes, someone did write AOC/Bernie Sanders romantic fanfic. Yes, I hate that I know this.)
Look, it's fine to admire a political figure. Maybe you vibe with their policies. Maybe they give good speeches. Maybe you just like how they pronounce “infrastructure.” But for the love of democracy, do not worship them.
No politician is a flawless saint. They are all part of a system that demands compromise, back-scratching, and occasionally looking the other way when Big Oil sends a fruit basket. If you tie your entire identity to one politician, prepare for heartbreak when they inevitably vote for a military spending bill or say something deeply stupid on a hot mic.
Support policies. Cheer for good legislation. But don’t tattoo anyone’s face on your body unless it’s legally required or ironically hilarious.
Step 5: Learn How a Bill Becomes a Law Without Wanting to Die
Remember “Schoolhouse Rock”? That cheerful little cartoon where the adorable bill sits on Capitol Hill, explaining the legislative process with jaunty music? Adorable. Also, completely divorced from the Kafkaesque nightmare that is real-life lawmaking.
Here's the real scoop: A bill is introduced, debated, gutted, amended beyond recognition, stalled in committee, revived with pork-barrel add-ons, passed through both chambers (sometimes with riders about tax breaks for yacht owners), and maybe—maybe—signed into law. That’s if it doesn’t get filibustered, held hostage, or mysteriously disappear into the void when lobbyists show up.
It’s not glamorous, but learning the basic mechanics of how the government actually works will keep you from screaming “WHY AREN’T THEY DOING ANYTHING?!” every time your pet issue stalls.
Because sometimes… they are doing something. Just very, very slowly. And badly.
Step 6: Pick One Thing and Dig Deep
Trying to follow everything—foreign policy, healthcare, education, LGBTQ+ rights, taxation, climate change, electoral reform, immigration—is a fast track to burnout. The brain can only handle so much before it melts and you start Googling “cheap cabins in Canada.”
So pick one thing. One issue. Maybe two if you’re feeling spicy.
You care about student debt? Great—become a savant. Climate change? Learn the acronyms and scream at ExxonMobil. Gun control? Understand the legislation and scream at… well, everyone, apparently.
This doesn’t mean ignoring other issues. It means becoming informed enough to understand what’s happening, but going deep on one or two so you can actually engage in meaningful conversations, not just parrot Twitter rage.
Step 7: Detox When Necessary
You are not morally obligated to consume political horror 24/7. Taking a break does not make you complicit. It makes you sane.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, log off. Watch a sitcom. Pet a dog. Touch grass, both literally and metaphorically. Remember that your value as a human being does not hinge on whether you’ve memorized the latest Supreme Court docket.
Politics is important—but so is your mental health. You can’t fight the good fight if you’re curled in the fetal position sobbing over an op-ed about tax policy.
Step 8: Laugh. A Lot.
Because honestly? Politics is absurd. It’s laugh-or-cry territory 95% of the time.
You need a sense of humor, or you’ll develop a chronic twitch. Follow comedians who do political commentary—John Oliver, Hasan Minhaj (RIP his show), or even the late, great Jon Stewart reruns. Read The Onion. Subscribe to satire sites that roast everyone equally. Make memes. Share memes. Drown in memes.
Laughter is how we process the insanity. It’s how we stay engaged without becoming insufferable doom goblins. It’s how we survive.
Step 9: Know That Civics Isn’t Sexy—But It’s Necessary
You know what doesn’t trend? Municipal zoning ordinances. School board elections. Local bond proposals. But you know what does affect your daily life? All of those things.
We’re so obsessed with national headlines—presidential campaigns, Supreme Court hearings, the latest Congressional food fight—that we forget about the smaller, dumber stuff that actually impacts our communities.
Your city council is deciding whether to build a library or sell the land to Starbucks. Your local prosecutor chooses who gets charged and who doesn’t. Your state legislature can gerrymander districts into oblivion while you’re busy tweeting about Biden’s age.
Get involved. Vote in primaries. Learn what the hell your state house is doing. It’s not glamorous, but it’s how actual change happens.
Step 10: Don't Be That Guy in the Group Chat
You know the one. The dude who responds to every photo of someone’s baby with “Yeah, well, babies are going to inherit a dying planet unless we pass a carbon tax.” The one who hijacks pizza night to talk about gerrymandering. The one who can’t go five minutes without quoting a senator.
Stop. You’re making everyone hate politics. And you.
Being informed doesn’t mean being obnoxious. Politics is not your personality. If you can’t talk about movies, sports, or what flavor of La Croix is the worst (it’s coconut, don’t fight me), then you’re not building coalitions—you’re building resentment.
Advocate with empathy. Make room for nuance. And remember that not everyone has the bandwidth to follow every crisis du jour. That doesn’t make them evil. Just tired.
Final Thought: Rage Is Not a Strategy
It’s easy to be angry. God knows there’s enough to be angry about. But anger without action is just Twitter with more cortisol.
So vote. Volunteer. Donate if you can. Educate people, not with smug condescension, but with patient clarity. Advocate for policies, not just vibes. And most of all, take care of yourself.
You are not a newsfeed. You are not a think tank. You are a human being trying to exist in a world that sometimes feels like it was scripted by a drunk screenwriter with a grudge.
But if we all hang in there—cynical, snarky, informed, and just slightly unhinged—we might actually make it through this.
Preferably without setting anything on fire.