Thank goodness that spectacle is finally over. The strange and often absurd election drama in the so-called “greatest nation on earth” has come to an end—for now.

In China, the quantitative mechanism of elections isn’t a big deal. It would be wrong to say it’s not there; China does have elections, though only at the lowest local levels. After this undignified spectacle, I almost want to say: a genuine blessing.

No, it certainly wasn’t cinema. But it was a true media event, staged like a Marvel blockbuster: an endgame. It perfectly fed the media’s hunger for conflict—if constitutional democracy didn’t already exist, they’d have to invent it just for them. It was good versus evil, an old white (orange) man versus a (relatively) young black woman, a convicted criminal versus a successful prosecutor, a fight between the “Democracy Protector” against the “Constitution Terminator.” It was a clash between a highly disciplined, ambitious climber who sought to avoid every mistake, and a cocky, street-smart trust fund kid who had no sense of error whatsoever—a figure whom not only his followers but also many others consider ‘authentic.’ The speeches were empty, pathetic, emotional, one after another—a celebration of the most trivial forms of communication. What struck me this time was that it was the ruling party, not the opposition, that campaigned with the slogan “A New Way Forward.” It’s a wonderful paradox fitting the paradox of democracy: vote for the same party to make a change. No, better the real change, the voters must have thought: a true taboobreaker who doesn’t mince words – unlike someone who constantly does, a ‘recorder,’ who tries to adequately reproduce the painstakingly learned material in different situations, resulting in the ‘word salad‘ that the counter-media so eagerly pounced on.

The German sociologist Niklas Luhmann once observed, “What can appear as an alternative has a right to be heard and to have a chance to prove itself.” His point? In modern politics, simply presenting oneself as an alternative can be enough to pass the test of legitimacy. Donald Trump mastered this approach, embodying the outsider status that resonated with disenchanted voters. Kamala Harris, by contrast, tried to position herself as the “alternative to the alternative.” But as we now know, this maneuver failed spectacularly. Why? Because it wasn’t “alternative enough.” Derived from the Latin alternare, meaning “to alternate” or “take turns,” an alternative isn’t just another option—it implies a clear, contrasting choice, a genuine departure from the status quo. Harris struggled to embody this definition. As vice president and a representative of the ruling party, she was inherently tied to the existing system. Her messaging leaned toward being all things to all people: moderate enough to appeal to centrists, progressive enough to placate the left. But a true alternative requires more than a safe middle ground—it demands a bold, decisive break from what already exists. In today’s polarized political climate, voters seeking an alternative want clear, decisive stands—or even radical change. Playing it safe to appeal to everyone risks being seen as indecisive or uninspiring. And that, ultimately, may have been the fatal flaw in Harris’ attempt to carve out her place as the alternative to Trump’s brand of disruption.

In truth, Americans were offered little more than two sides of the same coin or – to use a wonderful analogy by John Mearsheimer: They had the choice between Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, and they went with Tweedle-dee. Because, in reality, the USA didn’t elect a person – they elected a party, a political organization. This, understandably, was completely overshadowed by the media’s obsession with these two individuals, which the parties were only too happy to indulge. Fortunate for the Republicans that they had a Donald Trump, who, more than anyone else, made the idea of a real alternative seem plausible. And let’s be clear about one thing: The mainstream media, with their relentless demonization of Trump, their pervasive negative consensus, their air of moral superiority, and their constant lecturing, played a pivotal role in his electoral success.

Essentially, both parties want the same thing. And they must want the same thing. They aim to enhance the economic situation for Americans and manage migration, of course. Both acknowledge the importance of social security and publicly oppose drastic cuts to essential services. Israel, fracking, China—you name it. Only the abortion issue holds any real weight; the rest is little more than ideological window dressing, crafted to make the two sides appear distinct. Whether Trump’s stance as a self-proclaimed opponent of war—unlike the hawkish Harris—will translate into real policy shifts (read: Ukraine), remains to be seen.

I admit I got swept up in the spectacle, too, wondering how Harris would handle her first debate, what tactics she’d use to outsmart Trump, and how she’d frame her gestures and laughter.  Then there were those dreadful, cringe-inducing phone calls, most notably the one with the Obamas. On the other side of the spectrum: Trump, surging in the polls in the final weeks, astutely positioning himself as the cleanup man after Biden’s foolish slip-up. Meanwhile, Harris looked more exhausted by the day, struggling to keep up the radiant, dynamic smile she’d chosen as her trademark. It wasn’t her, but Trump who began to exude the optimism her team had selected as a counterpoint to his “dark” campaign—yet he effortlessly combined blatant racism and mindless cheerfulness, dancing all the arguments away. 

In truth, Trump and Harris weren’t really fighting each other; they were simply trying to capture the voter’s attention (a point Jacques Ellul highlighted decades ago in his book on propaganda, that is also explored in the election theory video by my colleague Hans-Georg Moeller).

For now, it’s over—a relief, even for global politics, which had to wait patiently for the spectacle to end. Throughout the election campaign, nearly all diplomatic initiatives were put on hold, as the sitting government was paralyzed by the fear of voters—every decision could cost them dearly.

The Democrats won’t make waves and will, as expected, uphold the peaceful transfer of power, albeit with heads shaking. They still haven’t grasped that reason, ‘facts,’ and arguments carry far less weight than the fears stoked by Trump about immigrants who rape—sorry, eat pets. This also applies to my esteemed colleague Allan ‘The Oracle’ Lichtman, who has been quite lucky with his prophecies so far. His mistake, see above: the assumption that voters vote for an organization. Theoretically correct, practically almost irrelevant. His misjudgment highlights a crucial point: every scholar in the humanities today needs to be a media theorist as well.

In just four years, the political circus will begin again, and we’ll be right back where we started. Billions will be squandered once more. The two representatives of the opposing factions, heirs to the old confessions—Catholics on this side, Protestants on that—will once again deliver their grand speeches. And Americans will once again be confronted with the choice between “the lesser of two evils,” as the president of the one-party system called the Vatican put it. In the meantime, anyone who’s interested can follow live, in real time, to see how and if the U.S. will turn into a dictatorship. Stay tuned!

There could have been an easier way to reach the same outcome. A coin toss could serve as an alternative to the elaborate voting process—a suggestion Niklas Luhmann put forward to German politics decades ago. Heads or tails? Maybe Trump supporters could even be convinced by the idea of divine judgment. The U.S. is, as Barack Obama aptly noted, closely divided—statistically, it’s 50:50. John Stuart Mill would be baffled; the maximum overall happiness is simply not on the table politically in today’s ‘America.’ No one wants to come together; it’s siblings at odds, daughters against fathers. How can one seriously derive legitimacy from this election result? Setting aside, for the moment, the question of whether election results can grant legitimacy at all. What the U.S. once accused other nations of is now true of itself: it has become a failed state.

Perhaps Trump’s push for a one-party system isn’t such a bad idea after all. It might even end the internal “cold civil war,” or at least blunt its edge. Restricting choices, as seen in many developing nations, could calm things down. Plus, it might cure America’s inevitable post-election hangover: the realization that nothing has really changed. Every election cycle fuels hopes, nurtures promises, and parades politicians like saviors. They’ll “make America great again” or “unite the nation”—until the catcalls begin. Democracy recycles these hopes and disappointments every four years.

Not least, an American autocracy could finally tackle the real, pressing issues at hand. Because this is the real scandal of this election: as society’s very survival hangs in the balance, the candidates distracted with tales of villains inflating prices, promises of tax cuts, and low interest rates. In the end, they’re fighting over trivial matters—arguing for a bit more of this and a bit less of that. Much like China, an American autocracy it would have the hierarchies and control mechanisms necessary to impose bans where needed without requiring broad public approval first. These are, and I say this without cynicism, the advantages of a one-party system that doesn’t have to pander to voters. 

Given the deep- seated aversion to state intervention embedded in the American psyche, I have little hope. Americans don’t want the government telling them whether they can have an abortion, wield a firearm when someone knocks on their door—or drive their gas-guzzler down Route 66. Change, they’re told, must come from individual motivation. In this respect, too, Trump and Harris are alike, even if the President-elect may act less hypocritically on climate protection than her.  The trouble is that individual goodwill alone won’t slow the industrial machine enough to make a difference. For real progress, we’d need bold policy shifts and real structural change, but in the so-called “free world,” the cultural resistance to government mandates is a stubborn roadblock. 

I’m going offline for the next few days—it’s been a bit too much of a good thing. Good luck, America.

(A first, slightly shorter of this text was published in the South China Morning Post.)

COMMENTS

@professortoki

This op-ed nails it when it comes to exposing the hollow spectacle of U.S. elections. It perfectly captures how the whole process is more about political theater than actual democracy. The U.S. loves to act like it’s the world’s moral authority on democratic values, but as the piece points out, the system itself is almost farcical. The way the elections rely on these overly simplistic binaries—good vs. evil, hope vs. fear—is less about real policy differences and more about maintaining control. It’s like the U.S. is selling this flawed model of “democracy” as the global standard while keeping its hegemonic grip intact.

I also think the op-ed is spot-on about how both major parties, despite all the rhetoric, are really just two sides of the same coin. Whether it’s economic growth, preserving the social order, or dealing with “threats” like China or Iran, the underlying goals don’t change. It’s true, voters are essentially choosing between Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, and the whole election hype just serves as a distraction from the fact that the system is designed to stay the same. The Trump vs. Harris drama may be entertaining for the media, but it’s clear that nothing fundamental will actually change. As Mearsheimer recently put it, the election outcome won’t change anything in the Middle East—the U.S. will just keep doing what it’s been doing. Nothing’s gonna change. The same goes for China, though there’s a bit of a difference when it comes to Ukraine. But whether Trump can actually pull it off—ending the conflict, whether in 24 hours, 48 hours, or a week or two months? That remains to be seen.

And don’t even get me started on the media. The critique of how they turn elections into a Marvel-style blockbuster is brutal but so accurate. Instead of digging into actual policies, the media focuses on personalities, turning the whole thing into a soap opera. It’s ironic because while they claim to critique the system, they’re actually propping it up by feeding into this obsession with spectacle. I believe that especially the mainstream media, with their demonization of Trump, have significantly contributed to voters saying, ‘Now, even more so, I won’t let you know-it-alls patronize me.’ Maybe it’s just out of spite! And here’s where all the gender stuff belongs—which Trump simply brushed aside with his ‘toxic,’ incorrect masculinity.

Another point that highlights how undemocratic the U.S. system is—one the author does not mention—would be the Electoral College. How can it claim to be democratic when millions of votes are essentially filtered through a handful of electors who have the final say? This setup allows someone to win the presidency without actually winning the popular vote, which has happened multiple times—though not in this case. It undermines the principle of “one person, one vote” and distorts the power dynamics between states. For example, smaller states get disproportionately more influence, while voters in larger states like California or Texas see their votes carry less weight. It’s absurd that the outcome of a national election can hinge on a few swing states while millions of other votes are rendered meaningless. This isn’t democracy; it’s a relic of a system designed to appease 18th-century power structures.

When you add this to the superficial spectacle of U.S. elections, the cracks in the system become glaringly obvious. It’s not just about the media hype or the lack of meaningful policy differences—it’s baked into the structure itself. The Electoral College doesn’t empower voters; it dilutes their voices. So, while the U.S. might preach democracy to the rest of the world, its own system falls woefully short of that ideal.

@cdu1964

I think the author makes some sharp points, but honestly, it leans way too hard into cynicism and oversimplifies how American democracy actually works. Sure, the election process has its flaws, but reducing it to just “political theater” completely ignores the real stakes. The differences between the parties aren’t just rhetorical—they have real, material consequences. Issues like abortion rights, climate change, and healthcare affect millions of people in very tangible ways. Writing these off as “window dressing” feels dismissive of the struggles people face every day.

Also, the op-ed’s comparison to China’s centralized system is pretty troubling. Yeah, centralization can lead to faster decisions, but at what cost? Individual freedoms and accountability are crucial, and those get trampled in authoritarian regimes. The so-called “cold civil war” in the U.S. might look messy, but it’s actually proof that people still care enough to fight for their vision of the future. That kind of messy passion is way better than the fear or apathy that tends to dominate in autocratic systems.

And about the media—sure, they can be sensationalistic, but let’s not pretend they don’t serve a vital role. Without media scrutiny, how would we even know about Trump’s lies or Harris’s contradictions? The media, for all its faults, still informs and mobilizes voters. It’s not perfect, but it’s absolutely essential for democracy.

What really bugs me is the fatalism in this piece. It’s like the author is saying the U.S. is a lost cause and meaningful change isn’t possible. That’s not true. The system is far from perfect, but it has shown resilience, and elections do give people a chance to push for progress, even if it’s slow. Writing it all off as hopeless feels lazy and unhelpful.

In the end, I think this op-ed misses the mark. Yes, the spectacle is frustrating, but that doesn’t mean the substance isn’t there. Suggesting that authoritarian systems are somehow a better option is not just wrong—it’s dangerous. There’s a huge cost to systems that prioritize control over freedom, and it’s a mistake to overlook that.

@global-shariah-law5607

Democracy gets all this praise like it’s the best thing ever, but it’s got some serious flaws. First off, anyone can vote—even folks who wouldn’t recognize Ukraine on a map. It’s kind of wild that the future of countries is in the hands of people who might not know much about global issues or foreign policy. But hey, they still have a say. A lot of voters didn’t seem to care that Trump wouldn’t accept his 2020 loss and tried to stop his opponent from winning—that was basically a huge failure of the presidency. And yet, a lot of Americans didn’t mind—or even thought it was cool. It’s like there’s a weird thrill in chaos, and the ones causing it get to vote too. They can pick the person who wants to scrap voting altogether. And then, there’s the actual voting process. All the power you have in a democracy is reduced to making an X on a piece of paper. That’s it. Sure, it sounds simple, but think about it: A country’s future gets decided by a quick tick in a box. There’s no room for nuance, no chance to engage with the deeper complexities of the issues at hand. No real dialogue. It’s like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube with a sledgehammer—too blunt a tool for something so intricate. It’s almost like reducing your voice to a single, uninformed choice—hardly a reflection of what real democracy is supposed to be about.

The late great HL Mencken predicted it: “On some great day and glorious day, the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.” That day, my friends, has arrived.

@sweetpeach

Imagine this: an American government, cutting through the gridlock, the endless back-and-forth of democracy, sweeping aside the inefficiencies that paralyze action. We need to stop pretending that the status quo is working. Our planet is dying—literally dying—and we can’t afford to wait for the usual political games. We need to save our beautiful, fragile world, now, before it’s too late. Look around: the West African Black Rhinoceros, the Pinta Island Tortoise, the Bubal Hartebeest, the Caribbean Monk Seal—terminated. The Amur Leopard, the Sumatran Orangutan, the Mountain Gorilla, the California Condor or the Pangolin, the Franklin Tree, the Ghost Orchid, the Saguaro Cactus … the list goes on and on. All at risk of extinction.

This isn’t a future problem; it’s happening right now.

And it’s not just the animals or the plants. The floods. The tornadoes. People are dying, whole communities are being ripped apart. Towns are swept away in seconds, families are torn apart by disasters that seem to grow in strength with each passing year. How many more lives will be lost? How many more homes, businesses, and entire ways of life will be destroyed before we admit that we need a new kind of leadership?

An autocracy could bypass all the delays, all the compromises that slow down meaningful change in a democracy. With no need to constantly please the masses, a one-party system could step in and do what needs to be done: bold, decisive action on the environment, real economic reform. No more waiting years for the right bill to make it through Congress, no more half-hearted solutions. In times of crisis—and we are in a crisis—we need bold, uncompromising leadership. This isn’t about stifling freedom, it’s about saving what’s left of it. Because without sweeping action, without radical change, we won’t have much of a future to protect.

@stylefactory4833

The centralization of power that can speed up decision-making also opens the door to authoritarian overreach, where individual rights and freedoms are easily brushed aside. When a government, like the U.S., operates without the checks and balances meant to ensure fairness and accountability, it risks turning into a system where leaders can make sweeping decisions without public consent or input. This creates a dangerous dynamic where efficiency becomes more important than justice.

In such a system, it’s not just a matter of abstract principles like democracy being undermined; it’s real people who suffer the consequences. The marginalized, the oppressed, the ones already struggling to make their voices heard, they are the first to feel the effects of an unchecked power structure. When decisions are made from the top down, without consulting those who live with the outcomes, democracy doesn’t just erode—it becomes a tool of further oppression.

When power is concentrated in a few hands, the very people who need protection from overreach are often the least likely to be represented in decision-making processes. If we allow a system to prioritize efficiency over justice, we risk perpetuating the inequalities that have long existed. Democracy, at its core, should be about inclusivity, about making sure that every voice counts—not just the loudest or the most powerful. When we lose sight of this, we lose the essence of what makes a society democratic. And in the process, we deepen the divide between the haves and the have-nots, allowing authoritarianism to thrive at the expense of those already at the margins.

@problematicfratz

It seems Trump won big time, right? But hold up—when you dig into the numbers, it’s not all sunshine and confetti. Sure, he took the Electoral College like it was a Sunday stroll, but the popular vote? Yeah, that was a nail-biter—just a 0.5% difference. So, while the media might be throwing around words like “landslide,” the reality is that the U.S. is still almost split right down the middle, especially when you look at the massive gap between urban and rural areas. The Electoral College can turn a close race into a really convincing victory, but that doesn’t mean the country’s all on the same page.

Now, in Canada, we do things a bit differently. No Electoral College nonsense here. We go with straight-up popular vote and regional representation in Parliament. That means, while there’s some drama between places like Quebec and the rest of the country (because, of course), the results actually reflect what voters actually want—imagine that! The political divides in Canada are more subtle, even conservative folks here generally support things like abortion rights. Plus, we like to give the whole “racial equality” thing a bit more of a go. And our politics tend to keep things a bit more … chill. We’re more about that “let’s get along” vibe, with fewer tantrums thrown by political parties. Go figure.

@pinkwang

In my country China, it’s not a red versus blue game. We’re more about harmony and collective progress. We value balance, not constant discord. Sure, no system’s perfect, but when you look at the U.S., it’s like the political parties are in an all-out brawl over everything, even issues that don’t seem to have a resolution. And, let’s be honest, Canada’s no stranger to its own divisions either. But here, we don’t get bogged down in that constant, endless squabbling. While the West might keep debating itself into circles, we take a steadier, more unified approach, with a focus on order and a long-term vision. It’s a different kind of political culture—one that looks at the bigger picture, without getting distracted by every little conflict.

Oh, the “dictatorship” label again? Yeah, I get it. People love to throw around stereotypes—China, Russia, same thing, right? But let’s be real, it’s not the same. China is not Russia, and painting them with the same brush just shows how little attention is paid to the nuances of each system. Sure, China’s government is centralized and different from the Western idea of democracy, but let’s not pretend it’s some kind of totalitarian regime where everyone’s walking around in fear. There’s a whole lot more going on there than just a one-dimensional “dictator” narrative. 

And about tackling “the real, pressing issues at hand”—let’s talk about some facts for a second. China is absolutely crushing it in the renewable energy race. Seriously, we’re the world champion right now. In 2023 alone, we added 210 gigawatts of solar power—double what the U.S. managed. We’re not just playing around with solar panels either; we’re churning out electric cars and wind turbines at an insane pace, backed by massive investments and cutting-edge tech.

Last November 2023, noone in the Western mainstream media reported on it, it was clear that we will hit our peak emissions in 2024, six years ahead of schedule. That’s a big deal, considering we have been the world’s largest emitter of CO2 since 2007. But here’s the kicker: after 2024, emissions will actually start to decline. That’s huge, not just for us, but for the whole planet. If we’re talking about the 1.5-degree target for global warming, our shift could give us a fighting chance.

So yeah, while people love to throw around “dictator” as a quick label, maybe it’s time to look at the numbers and realize that China is making some seriously impressive strides in areas that matter—like sustainability, tech, and clean energy. Not exactly a backward dictatorship. At least call it a green, forward-looking one!