How Can We Celebrate Our Nation When We Hate Each Other?

Americans no longer trust one another, and for an entire generation, this is how it has always been

In less than a couple of weeks, the United States will celebrate its 250^th birthday. A president incapable of civic good will preside over inevitably gaudy, self-aggrandizing, and perhaps polarizing festivities. In a Truth Social post, Trump claimed that this year’s July 4^th will be “the most spectacular TRUMP RALLY of them all.”

But even without Trump’s polarizing presence, the 250^th anniversary of our country’s independence would probably have been a fairly muted celebration. Fewer Americans today feel an affinity for their country. Over the last decade, American pride in the country has plummeted. For most of the recent past, Americans have been exceptionally proud of their country, regardless of which political party occupied the White House. Gallup polls show that from 2001 to 2016, at least eight in ten Americans said they were very or extremely proud to be American. These feelings diminished rapidly after Donald Trump was first elected in 2016, stabilizing somewhat after he left office. Then in 2024, patriotism dropped rapidly, falling nine points in a single year. Only 58 percent of Americans today say they are very or extremely proud to be American.

This is a dramatic change in national character. On the eve of a monumental milestone in American history, it begs the question of why we’ve grown increasingly circumspect about our country.

A New Political Fault Line in Patriotism

The timing suggests politics is surely wrapped up in the waning feelings of national pride. Democrats’ patriotism fell off after both of Trump’s elections. It also declined faster and further than that of other Americans. Republican devotion to their country was once indistinguishable from that of Democrats. Even before the September 11^th terrorist attacks spurred an outpouring of national pride, Democrats and Republicans expressed similar levels of patriotism. That changed after Trump’s first election. But it’s not only those on the left; Independents have experienced a steep decline in patriotic feelings as well.

Despite the recent dips in national pride following election years, the president’s party has historically been a poor indicator of how partisans feel about the country. Democrats, for example, were much more patriotic during the entirety of George W. Bush’s two terms in office—a presidency many Democrats despised. And Republican feelings of national pride were unchanged during the Obama years.

Clearly, something else is contributing to our patriotic decline.

A Generation Raised in Civic Silence

What if the patriotic decline is as much a generational story as it is a political one? Coming of age in the Trump era, less than half of Gen Z report that they are very or extremely proud to be American.

Survey data reveal a distinctive pattern across generations. Every generation has witnessed a decline in patriotic feelings, with Millennials experiencing the steepest drop. Gen Z, however, is qualitatively different; they are uniquely apathetic about the US. What’s more, it’s not that Gen Z has fallen out of love with their country; they were never overly proud to be American in the first place.

To me, this is evidence of a crumbling civic culture. Patriotism is inherently a practice of collectivism. It’s the largest community belonging we experience as citizens. Yet young Americans have been brought up to prioritize individual achievement. Social media algorithms catered to one’s personal tastes and individual preferences have led more young people to focus firmly on themselves, their identities, and problems. Raised in communities and families that offered them fewer social and civic opportunities, their relationships became more transactional: between employers and employees, students and teachers, elected leaders and voters. In education, economics, and politics, Gen Z has been taught that institutions are not meant to shape our collective character but can be negotiated and exploited for personal advantage. They have been raised to be consumers.

The instant gratification of consumer culture has left all of us, and Gen Z in particular, with fewer civic experiences. This is why it’s become so fundamentally difficult for Americans of different political persuasions to talk to one another. We cast ourselves as heroes and our opponents as villains. We see them as “terrible people.” As recently as 2016, more than half of Americans said that when they talk about politics with someone of a different point of view, they find the experience mostly interesting and informative. Today, only 36 percent of Americans say the same.

Americans have always thought of themselves as the “good guys,” even when there were obvious reasons to question this claim. A recent Pew study found that Americans generally see themselves as hardworking, respectful, and responsible citizens. Sixty percent of Americans identify as “working class,” two-thirds say they are open-minded, and more than seven in ten believe they are respectful of authority. However, when asked to reflect on their fellow citizens, optimism falters. Another study found that more than half of Americans would rate the morality and ethics of their fellow citizens as somewhat or very bad—a higher percentage than any of the other 25 countries in the study. Indeed, America is exceptional in the negative feelings her citizenry expresses about its fellow citizens. This poses a conflict; you cannot love your country if you do not love its people.

America is not a broken country, but our once-shared values and principles have been compromised for the sake of political expediency and individual pursuits. Politics became personal, and patriotism became partisan. We expect little of one another. Our leaders have not lived up to the public trust placed in them. Too many voters—on both sides of the political divide—care less about character than they ought to. But the failure of leadership is not simply that we have people in positions of power who are ethically compromised, but that they expect so little of us in return. Good leaders ask something more of their followers than blind obedience to authority. Rather, they inspire us to uphold shared commitments and work toward communal goals. This is first and foremost a civic failure we are witnessing—a political culture that encourages self-interest above communal commitments. The 250^th anniversary of America’s independence is an opportunity to celebrate, but also to reflect. It’s a moment to reinvigorate civic tolerance and social responsibilities.

The problem with our current political culture is that it demands so little of us. It exists to agitate and inculcate resentment. It can inflame passions but not direct them to a higher purpose. American voters want their elected officials to lower gas prices and make housing and health care more affordable, but so do they want someone who can reignite civic pride. Americans want to revere founding symbols—the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence—and to believe in the ideas inscribed in them. To feel a shared sense of awe and belonging.

More than a decade ago, I worked on a poll that included a question asking Americans whether they thought of the federal government as “the government” or “our government.” When this question was asked again many years later, notably fewer Americans felt ownership over their government. But the current situation is not inevitable—Americans want to feel proud of their country and to respect their political leaders. More than two million Americans visit the National Archives each year for a chance to glimpse our founding documents. It’s a matter of leadership. Our national leaders must deliver on their promises and push us to make good on our own civic commitments. Love of country is not something that emerges after winning an election or passing favored legislation; it is a feeling awakened through shared sacrifice and civic purpose. It’s a lesson we desperately need to relearn.