As someone who sits firmly on the left—who identifies as a progressive, as a leftist—it frustrates me deeply when I see members of our own movement engaging in the very behaviors we so often criticize in others. One trend that’s been bothering me more and more lately is how some progressives, liberals, and leftists speak about people with disabilities or conditions, especially when those people happen to be on the right—or even more disturbingly, when they begin questioning their alignment with Trump or MAGA.
Let me be clear: I’m no fan of Trump. I’m no fan of the cruelty, the policies, or the cultish devotion that has shaped the MAGA movement. But I draw the line when I see people in my own political circles making fun of others for having a stutter, for using a catheter, or for struggling with neurological conditions. That’s not just mean-spirited—it’s ableist, plain and simple. And it’s a betrayal of the values we claim to uphold.
Mocking someone for their medical needs or disabilities is never the progressive move. It’s not “punching up.” It’s not “just jokes.” It’s cruelty. And if we think the ends justify that kind of cruelty, then we’re not really standing on moral high ground. We’re just dressing up our contempt in progressive language.
And then there’s the way some of us respond to folks on the right who are starting to question their loyalties. People who are beginning to doubt Trump, or express regret over how things have gone in his second term. Instead of welcoming that moment of vulnerability—or at the very least listening—too often, I see a knee-jerk reaction of suspicion, mockery, or dismissal. “Too little, too late.” “You’re not really sincere.” “Now you care?”
That kind of response doesn’t win people over. It doesn’t bring about change. It only builds more walls.
And I get it—some of those doubts might be performative. Some folks might not be genuine. But many of them are. Many of them are everyday people trying to crawl out of a political hole they were dug into, often by propaganda, disinformation, and fear. And when they finally start to see the light—when the cracks in the MAGA façade begin to form—they’re not met with understanding or cautious encouragement. They’re met with ridicule.
That reaction might feel justified in the moment. But it’s also incredibly short-sighted.
We talk a lot about dismantling cult mentalities. But when someone leaves a cult—or even begins to question it—they’re in one of the most fragile, uncertain, isolating places imaginable. The people they once stood with will turn on them. They’re vulnerable. They’re confused. They’re looking for something else. And if we, as progressives, meet them with scorn and laughter, what do you think happens?
They go back. They double down. They tell themselves they were right to stay.
Or worse—they check out of politics entirely. They stop voting. They stop speaking. And others who might have followed in their footsteps now stay silent, afraid of being mocked by both sides.
Look—I’m not saying we have to hold hands and sing kumbaya with every former Trump voter. I’m not saying we don’t hold people accountable. But there’s a difference between accountability and cruelty. There’s a difference between critique and dehumanization. If someone is trying to make a change—even a small one—we don’t have to throw them a parade. But we should at least give them space to speak.
Politics today is cold. It’s closed off. And I’m especially worried about how empathy seems to be draining out of the left. We pride ourselves on being the side of compassion, of care, of justice. But where is that when it comes to how we treat people we disagree with? Where is it when someone with a disability is mocked just because they’re conservative? Where is it when a former Trump supporter starts to change their mind?
We can be better. We must be better.
Because if we’re not—if we keep closing the door on people who are willing to crack theirs open—we might just find ourselves locked in our own echo chambers. And that’s a loss none of us can afford.