I’ve been thinking about Italy’s “Years of Lead”—that dark period from the late 1960s through the 1980s when political extremists on both left and right engaged in bombings, assassinations, and kidnappings. It was a time when democratic institutions strained under the weight of ideological violence, when ordinary citizens lived with the constant possibility that political disagreements might turn lethal.
The comparison to our current moment feels uncomfortably apt.
The Spectrum of Possibilities
We’re facing a range of potential futures, none of them particularly comforting. On the more optimistic end, we might see sporadic political violence—isolated incidents that shock but don’t fundamentally destabilize our institutions. Think occasional bombings, targeted assassinations, the kind of low-level terrorism that becomes background noise in a polarized society.
On the darker end lies something approaching civil conflict—not necessarily armies facing off across state lines, but sustained political violence that makes normal governance impossible. The breakdown of shared democratic norms, the weaponization of state power against political opponents, the kind of institutional collapse that historians mark as the end of one era and the beginning of another.
The Machinery of Scapegoating
What worries me most isn’t the violence itself, but how it will be used. Crisis creates opportunity for authoritarian overreach, and certain communities are always the first to be blamed when society fractures. Transgender Americans, already facing legislative attacks, represent an especially vulnerable target. It doesn’t take much imagination to envision “emergency measures” that begin with protection rhetoric and end with internment.
The pattern extends beyond any single group. Anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into an increasingly narrow definition of acceptable American identity—the mentally ill, political dissidents, religious minorities—becomes a potential target when democracy starts breaking down. The machinery of exclusion, once activated, has its own logic of expansion.
The Long Recovery
Even in the best-case scenario—where our institutions hold, where violence remains marginal, where democracy survives this stress test—the damage will take generations to repair. Trust, once shattered, rebuilds slowly. Norms, once broken, don’t automatically restore themselves. The casual cruelty that’s become normalized in our political discourse has already changed us in ways we’re only beginning to understand.
Living with Uncertainty
Perhaps I’m catastrophizing. Perhaps the center will hold better than I imagine. Perhaps the American experiment is more resilient than these fears suggest. But dismissing these possibilities entirely feels like willful blindness to the historical patterns playing out around us.
The challenge isn’t predicting which scenario will unfold—it’s maintaining both vigilance and sanity while navigating the uncertainty. How do you prepare for multiple possible futures without becoming paralyzed by fear? How do you take threats seriously without letting them consume your ability to live?
I don’t have answers to those questions. But I know that pretending everything is normal when the foundation is cracking isn’t wisdom—it’s denial. Sometimes the most responsible thing you can do is acknowledge that the ground beneath your feet isn’t as solid as it used to be.litical vandalism of Trump and MAGA.
