Every once in a while, I make the mistake of stepping into a political discussion on social media. Most of the time, it reminds me why I don’t do it very often.
The latest conversation started with a list of “warning signs” that people often associate with authoritarianism. Someone asked which political party those warning signs described. My answer was simple:
Look in the mirror.
That wasn’t meant as an insult. It was meant as a reminder.
The problem isn’t that one side has warning signs. The problem is that people use those warning signs like a checklist to condemn their opponents while refusing to examine their own political tribe. The whole purpose of warning signs is to encourage self-examination before problems become entrenched.
If you only recognize authoritarian behavior when your opponents are in power, you’re not evaluating principles. You’re defending a team.
History shows that authoritarian tendencies are not exclusive to one political label. Governments and movements of many different ideologies have concentrated power, suppressed dissent, excused corruption, manipulated information, and treated political opponents as enemies. The ideology may change. The behavior often looks familiar.
That doesn’t mean every government is authoritarian or that every political disagreement is evidence of fascism. It means that concentrated power deserves scrutiny no matter who holds it.
One thing that often gets lost in these discussions is how the United States was designed.
The Constitution never declares that the United States is a democracy. It establishes a constitutional federal republic that uses democratic elections to choose representatives. It separates power among three branches, divides authority between the federal government and the states, and creates checks and balances because the Founders assumed that people—even well-intentioned people—can abuse power.
We vote democratically to choose representatives, governors, legislators, mayors, and many local officials. Each state also has its own constitution and its own framework for governing its citizens, provided it remains consistent with the U.S. Constitution. Constitutional amendments are not adopted by a nationwide popular vote but are ratified by the states under the process laid out in Article V.
Those checks and balances weren’t created because one political party is inherently dangerous. They were created because human nature doesn’t change when someone wins an election.
Power is seductive. It has a way of convincing people that their goals justify their methods. That temptation isn’t unique to conservatives, liberals, independents, or any other political movement. It’s a human problem.
That’s why warning signs are exactly that—warning signs. They are not a partisan checklist. They’re not a scorecard to use only against your opponents. They’re reminders to stop and ask whether your own side is beginning to excuse behavior that you would condemn if someone else were doing it.
During this exchange, rather than responding to my argument, someone simply called me a “cult member.”
That tells me the discussion had stopped being about ideas. Once the conversation shifts from addressing an argument to attacking the person making it, very little learning is going to happen.
If you believe your party is incapable of corruption, incapable of abusing power, or incapable of displaying authoritarian tendencies, then you’re no longer applying principles consistently. You’re assuming your side deserves a different standard than everyone else.
Corruption isn’t owned by the left or the right. It’s a recurring risk wherever people gain power and stop being held accountable. That’s why constitutional governments rely on transparency, checks and balances, an independent judiciary, a free press, elections, and citizens willing to question those in authority.
That doesn’t mean every accusation is true or that every criticism is fair. It does mean that no one should get a free pass simply because they’re wearing the same political jersey you are.
That’s also why I don’t spend much time arguing on social media.
Most people aren’t looking for a discussion. They’re looking for confirmation that they’re already right. The moment you suggest they examine their own side with the same standards they use for their opponents, the conversation often ends and the labels begin.
So when I tell someone to “look in the mirror,” I’m not saying the other side is innocent.
I’m saying everyone should be willing to hold up the same mirror to themselves.
If we’re unwilling to criticize our own side when it’s wrong, then we’re not defending principles anymore.
We’re just defending a jersey.
And here’s something I’ve learned over the years:
You can usually tell who’s been playing the dirtiest not by how dirty their jersey is, but by how clean it is.
The people who never admit a mistake, never acknowledge wrongdoing, never question their own side, and insist their team is always right often have the cleanest jerseys of all.
Because if your jersey is spotless after a hard-fought game, maybe you weren’t interested in playing by the same rules as everyone else.
Real integrity isn’t about proving your side is perfect.
It’s about having the courage to admit when it isn’t.