I Have No Time

For "democracy hipsters"

Was not into democracy before it was cool, who cares?

Every once in a while, American politics hands you a moment that feels like it belongs in a redemption novel: unexpected, improbable, and maybe still a little hard to believe. Marjorie Taylor Greene, of all people, has started to show signs of growth. Yes, that MTG, the Georgia Congresswoman who, when she wasn’t posting pictures of her CrossFit workouts on social like a gym bro found time to attribute California wildfires to Jewish Space Lasers. If you had asked me more than 7 minutes ago whether she would ever peel herself away from the gravitational pull of Trumpism after seeing the video of her rubbing a cardboard Trump’s crotch, I would have ranked it next to “the Jets win the Super Bowl” on my list of likely events.

But growth is rarely predictable, and as anyone who has ever raised a child knows, it’s damn hard to see it coming in others. So when someone who once reveled in online conspiracy, cruelty, and, frankly, irresponsibility, begins to show even a sliver of independence, when they demonstrate that there’s a line, even if it’s not where I’d draw mine, that matters. We should say so. And more importantly, we should welcome it.

I live in Vermont and am, ostensibly, an academic. I’m very familiar with the urge to demand perfection before allowing someone back into the civic fold. I work in a Department where our monthly “Journal Club” has seen a bunch of white attending physicians declare something medical racist, with nary a black face in the room. The left has its purity tests; the right has its loyalty oaths. Both are symptoms of the same disease: a belief that politics is a static identity instead of a series of choices. But democracy isn’t kept alive by the perfect. It’s kept alive by the people who change their minds when reality demands it. I’ve changed my mind on things, big things: invasions, abortion, capital punishment. MTG can change hers, too.

Here’s the thing about MTG: she’s finally showing signs that she can recognize a dead end, that Trumpism is not a movement but a dependency. It uses people, eats their reputations, and leaves behind a trail of wreckage. She is seeing this fact up close: Donald Trump does not care about her constituents other than how willing they are to enable his power. He doesn’t care about their healthcare premiums, and he damn sure doesn’t care if their daughters get raped by the wealthy and the connected. And when someone as deep inside the MAGA engine room as MTG starts taking steps away, even small ones, it tells us something important. It tells us that Trump’s hold is weakening. That even among those who were once the loudest apostles, there is fatigue, disillusionment, or maybe even conscience. And unlike, for example, Mike Pence, Marge has rizz. Maybe not with the folks you invite to your holiday potluck, but with a certain demo, she slaps.

And here’s where the big-tent, small-d democratic reflex matters: anyone who starts walking away from the authoritarian edge should be received with open arms. Not uncritically for all time. Not with amnesia. But with the grace that makes a constitutional democracy different from a cult.

Because the alternative, slamming the door on people who finally see the danger, is national suicide. You don’t win the long fight for democracy by shrinking your coalition down to the already convinced. You win by giving people room to grow, to learn, to repent, to recalibrate. You win by treating political evolution as a strength, not a liability.

Liz Cheney, Adam Kinzinger, George Conway: they weren’t always heroes of the small-d democratic cause. They were Republicans in good standing, often supporting policies I disagreed with and wouldn’t endorse. But they drew a line. They said “no” when it counted. And that moral action, that willingness to break from the tribe, is more important than whatever we might argue about later.

MTG showing even an embryonic version of independent judgment is not just politically significant. It’s psychologically significant. It’s evidence that Trump’s orbit no longer bends space-time the way it used to. And if someone who built a brand on unfiltered hyperpartisanship can begin to break free, then the realignment is deeper than anyone wants to admit.

The coalition defending American democracy cannot afford to be territorial. It cannot be stingy with forgiveness. It cannot hold grudges tighter than it holds the Constitution. It has to be porous, generous, and even a little bit evangelical. Anyone who steps off the authoritarian train, whether early or late, whether quietly or dramatically, needs to find the lights on and the door unlocked. I’ve been anti-Trump since 2016, and that should count for nothing in 2025. There’s a place for any new convert, and there cannot be a place for “democracy hipsters,” who want to check IDs at the door.

Growth isn’t linear. Redemption isn’t comfortable. But when someone catches even a flicker of understanding that Trump is the antithesis of a republic, that leadership means something other than cruelty, the rest of us should be like Jenny on the bus in Forrest Gump and scoot right over.

It’s not my tent, and it’s not yours. It’s America’s.