Winning and Losing with Grace

Compassion—not schadenfreude—is how to bridge post-election divides.

George Yancey is an author, professor of sociology at Baylor University, and an advisor to the Prohuman Foundation.

In the days after the 2016 election, my family and I were on a quest for a new church. One congregation we tried had a reputation for being theologically conservative—the pastor was known for his thoughtful, moving sermons. We decided to give it a shot, accompanied by my mother-in-law, a staunch Democrat still reeling from the election results.

The sermon, when it finally began, was good. But before he got to it, the pastor spent the first fifteen minutes essentially leading a victory lap for Donald Trump’s win. My mother-in-law sat stiffly in the pew as the pastor reveled in political triumph. It was uncomfortable and ultimately alienating. We never went back.

That experience stayed with me—not for what was said as much as what had been left unsaid to express grace and compassion for those who had pinned their hopes on Hillary Clinton.

I thought of it again in 2024, when Trump’s re-election over Kamala Harris sparked a cascade of visceral reactions from the political left. In cities across the country, people gathered for candlelight vigils, for what they described as the "death of democracy." To an outsider—or a centrist like me—these reactions can feel performative, exaggerated, even absurd.

And yet, as easy as it is to dismiss these displays, I’ve come to believe they deserve more empathy than they often receive. The truth is, these reactions, however extreme, are rooted in something real: fear, grief, and a profound sense of loss.

Politics and Grief

Losing an election isn’t just about losing power—it’s about losing a vision for the future. For those on the losing side, the dreams they nurtured evaporate overnight. The defeat feels personal, like the end of a relationship or the death of a loved one. It’s not just what is that hurts, but what could have been.

When people lose a loved one, we don’t mock them for expressing grief in ways we might not understand. We give them space, compassion, and time to heal. Not so in the political realm. Instead of extending empathy, many reacted with ridicule, reposting memes about “liberal tears,” circulating clips of dramatic emotional “meltdowns.” The schadenfreude is as predictable as it is ugly.

The Case for Compassion

This isn’t about agreeing with every grievance or endorsing every dramatic outburst. Some reactions to political loss do cross the line into performance art or outright manipulation. Still, in most cases it’s worth asking: what’s the harm in meeting grief with compassion?

Compassion doesn’t mean abandoning your principles or stifling your joy. It doesn’t mean you can’t celebrate your candidate’s victory. What it does mean is recognizing the humanity in those who lost. It means acknowledging their fear and disappointment, even if you believe those emotions are misplaced.

After all, isn’t that what we would want for ourselves? If we want to live in a country where political opponents can coexist without vilifying one another, it starts with small acts of decency in moments like these. It starts with resisting the urge to gloat or mock and choosing instead to listen, to understand, and to show a modicum of grace.

Elections are inevitably divisive. But how we treat each other in the aftermath can either deepen those divisions or begin to bridge them. Compassion won’t solve all our problems, but it’s a step in the right direction.

Opinions expressed by guest authors do not necessarily reflect those of the Prohuman Foundation. We value diverse perspectives and invite submissions from those who can enrich our understanding of topics close to our mission: to promote the foundational truth that we are all unique individuals, united by our shared humanity.