Let’s just rip the Band-Aid off: bipartisanship is dead. And you know what? Maybe it deserves to be. For years, we’ve been spoon-fed this myth that the highest virtue in American politics is finding the middle ground. That if we all just held hands across the aisle and sang kumbaya, we could fix everything from gun violence to climate change to racial injustice. But here’s the truth we’ve been avoiding like a group text from your ex’s family: compromise only works when everyone’s negotiating in good faith — and frankly, they’re not.
Let’s rewind.
The idea of bipartisanship was born from an earlier era, one where differences in ideology were often about method, not morality. A time when Republicans and Democrats disagreed on how to spend money, not whether queer people deserve rights. A time when a heated debate might center around tax brackets, not whether women should have bodily autonomy. But the modern political battlefield has changed — it’s not left vs. right. It’s reality vs. delusion. Science vs. conspiracy. Democracy vs. authoritarian cosplay in a red baseball cap.
And in that context, I no longer care about meeting in the middle. Especially when the middle keeps shifting toward extremism.
Let’s be clear: bipartisanship hasn’t “worked” in decades. The Affordable Care Act? Passed with zero Republican votes. The Respect for Marriage Act? Needed a Hail Mary coalition. Student debt relief, climate action, police reform, gun control — all have been met with scorched-earth opposition from the party that once prided itself on “family values,” yet now openly flirts with fascism on cable news.
Unity politics is a fairy tale. And worse — it’s become a weapon.
Too often, “unity” is code for “shut up and take it.” For marginalized communities, bipartisanship has meant sitting quietly while their rights are bartered away like bad hotel art. Think about it: how many times have Democrats watered down legislation to appease phantom Republican support that never materializes? How often have we watched meaningful policy die on the altar of “both sides”?
Take climate change. Scientists have been screaming into the void since the ’80s, and yet compromise has given us half-measures and loopholes while wildfires turn our skies orange. Gun reform? The American public overwhelmingly supports background checks and assault weapon bans — but Congress can’t agree on whether kids being murdered in classrooms is “really” a problem. Why? Because bipartisanship demands a seat at the table for people who don’t believe the fire is real — while we’re already coughing from the smoke.
And don’t even get me started on LGBTQ+ rights. As a gay man, I’ve watched lawmakers treat my existence like a debate topic. I’ve seen bills proposed to ban my history from classrooms, strip trans people of medical access, and deny queer kids the right to simply be. I’m supposed to reach across the aisle to the people who call me a groomer? No thanks. I’ll keep my dignity and you can keep your handshake.
What bipartisanship often forgets is that some issues aren’t political — they’re personal. And when human rights are on the line, meeting halfway is just another form of regression. You can’t compromise with bigotry and call it progress.
Now, I’m not saying we abandon civility or that we should never work across lines. Coalitions can be powerful — but only when the goal is justice, not appeasement. I’m saying we stop fetishizing unity for unity’s sake. Because if the price of harmony is stagnation, then maybe a little chaos is necessary. Maybe what we need isn’t unity — it’s clarity.
Clarity that calls out obstructionism for what it is. Clarity that demands action, not performance. Clarity that understands that some bridges were never meant to be built — especially when they only lead to burning houses.
So yes, bipartisanship is dead. And in many ways, it was never alive to begin with — not for the disenfranchised, not for the vulnerable, not for the communities whose pain was always considered negotiable. What we need now is not centrism, but courage. Not compromise, but conviction.
Because we’ve tried playing nice. We’ve tried middle paths. And while we waited, voting rights were gutted, Roe v. Wade was overturned, and insurrectionists stormed the Capitol in costume shop cosplay. If bipartisanship couldn’t survive that, then maybe it wasn’t built for this moment.
And maybe that’s okay.
Because the future won’t be built in the middle of the road. It’ll be built by people who choose progress — unapologetically, urgently, and without waiting for permission from people who never wanted change in the first place.