We as a student body have been feeling a lot of things after the election. What started out as a day of anticipation quickly corroded into a day of confusion, anger and surprise at the re-election of Donald Trump to the presidency. Students who were describing themselves as “firm in what they believe” and “optimistic” at the prospect that Kamala Harris would ascend to the presidency became glum and despondent as the night went on. One professor noted that he was disappointed students did not have the ability to participate in an election that “wasn’t such a clear choice between Democracy and Autocracy.”
Our campus, to say the least, has been in shock.
Such a reaction is not unique to Stanford. Professors at Harvard University canceled classes for students the day after Trump won the election to give students time to process the results. Berkeley professors, in analyzing the reasons behind Trump’s win, mentioned words like “sexism” or “ethnonationalism” over 13 times. Inflation was mentioned only twice.
Conservatives at Stanford are not exempt from this siloed conversation either. Casting the more progressive and consistent concerns of the student body as “divorced from reality,” our peers at the Stanford Review aimed to give a prescription as to “what average Americans were experiencing.” We feel that such rhetoric, that of a diagnostic, rather than prognostic participation in the experiences of all Americans, is evidence of the ameliorating gap of understanding which exists between us as students, and the broader public. We are curious as to what makes the concerns of one group, our student group, so rhetorically divorced from the motives and concerns of others.
“Democracy Day has served as a helpful distraction,” one student told The Daily on Election day. We wonder if such a distracted approach towards civic trends and topography has metastasized to an understanding of the experiences of those who aren’t here at Stanford: those who walk to work, rather than walk to class — those who fill up the tank, rather than their plate at Wilbur. The civic culture at Stanford, from those in University leadership to us as students, has left us unequipped to engage in the broader civic struggles, side conversations and stinging rebukes of today.
Election day should not have come as a surprise. And if it did, handwaving is not going to solve the problem. It’s time to look deep as to why the results of this election were so shocking, and what we can do better as students and Stanford community members, outside of the notorious bubble of perspective that is Stanford.
The Stanford bubble is all inclusive
Data from the 2020 Stanford Community Survey (SCS) shows that over 60% of Stanford students identify as “liberal” or “very liberal.” 93.2% of students surveyed supported Joe Biden, which affirmed The Daily’s previous analysis of Santa Clara Registrar of Voters data. Stanford students vote blue, and many were devastated by the results of this presidential election cycle.
As the 312 electoral college votes for Trump rolled in, shock and dismay reverberated throughout campus. Many students were devastated by president-elect Trump’s landslide victory; an air of disappointment hung over campus the morning after. Reality struck, and Harris supporters felt blindsided and frustrated by the nation’s choice.
Prior to election night, Kamala Harris was the evident choice of candidate for the majority of students. Weeks after the election, there is now space to process the surprise and reactions of Stanford’s student body. The outcome of this election was unpredictable, but within the misguided confidence of younger voters is a deeper problem: the insularity of political climates on college campuses.
Despite the presence of the Hoover Institution, Stanford’s conservative-leaning public policy think tank, Stanford feels as blue as it is, perhaps to a fault.
The potential to build community with like-minded peers is intertwined with the power of college. As Stanford students, we are fortunate to share spaces with passionate people who have an intellectual investment in the future. In the political context, students unite to organize for significant causes and civic engagement (such as Democracy Day). But our proximity to those who think similarly clouds our collective sense of reality. A dire consequence is this division — the harmful if involuntary creation of an in-group and out-group. Our proximal separation distorts our perception of the majority of the country.
Previous discussions on political correctness and “cancel culture” on college campuses are limited in their scope. The reported harms are largely contained within academic institutions and based on philosophical principles or “feelings.” Censorship, the critics say, is bad and a limit on free speech. Limits on liberty are decidedly bad. Politically correct and “woke” have become pejoratives. Ironically, conversations on cancel culture and free dialogue have become siloed along partisan lines.
But beyond how Stanford students are affected by political homogeneity and dominance, ideological fervor shapes our interactions with the outside world as Stanford students. Our cognitive disconnect from the pulse of the country blocks true changemaking. Hopefully, our emotional turmoil can galvanize us toward reflection and reform.
This election popped the Stanford bubble. Time will tell if this newfound clarity lasts.
The privilege we have as Stanford students can detach us from the lived realities of the American working class. Attached to our status as Stanford students is an obligation to practice empathy and civic humility on-campus and beyond.
The Stanford bubble is dangerous for our discourse
Political discourse around universities, particularly elite schools such as Stanford and its peers in the Ivy League, paints them as hotbeds of liberal activism and propaganda. Trump promised to defend them from infiltration by “Marxist maniacs” in a video circulated by his campaign. Much public debate following the election’s result has centered around whether or not the result was a rebuke of “the elite,” which the student body is lumped into.
There’s a fundamental misunderstanding of political life on college campuses, heightened by the wave of resignations from university presidents in the past year. The vol. 264 Editorial Board’s piece written in light of this event highlights the need for free, civil discourse on campus from all sides of the aisle to ensure a healthy political ecosystem. One year on, and we are still learning how to better build this community.
While Stanford is decidedly a progressive university, attacks on our student civic capacity are based on an extremely narrow view of campus life and campus discourse. There is much conversation on whether or not elite institutions will be considered “the enemy” under the new administration. Verbal attacks on the ideology of elite institutions are sure to continue, but the legitimization of these denouncements is up to us as students
To stand up to such empty attacks we must make an effort to fill the calcified void of civil and political discourse on our campus, engage in a broader discourse on the politics of elite institutions without condescension and strive to ensure we champion the broad range of voices and perspectives that exist on our campus, without preference for political leanings.
Without the bubble, the political paradigm shifts
We, as Stanford students, have the privilege of attending an institution where we learn from high grade professors and peers and engage in high grade conversations. This opportunity should give us the ability to think critically about how political rhetoric on the campaign trail will translate into real-world outcomes.
Such knowledge should not be confined to our class papers or a seminar. Doing so continues the self-inflicted wounds of campus alienation from “regular speak” that manifested in the political environment that lies before us post Nov. 5.
This polarization, where that constant “us-them dynamic” beats the discourse drum is not sustainable. The behavior of discredidation, ranging from the vol. 258 Editorial Board’s attack on the Hoover Institution’s legitimacy, to the labeling of students with varying geopolitical views as “unreasonable,” needs to stop.
Our novel post-2024 landscape will serve as a benchmark. One where we can either embark, as a University, with the courage to confront and care for those who think, look, sound and learn differently than we are — or continue to bury our heads in the sand and remain shocked at the darkness that manifests from our selective civic silence.