Political Science

Chornobyl disaster still casts a shadow 40 years later

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 27 Aug 2026 21:44:04 +0000

Chornobyl disaster still casts a shadow 40 years later Rachel Sauer Thu, 08/27/2026 - 15:44

The New Safe Confinement structure placed over reactor 4 at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant in 2016. (Photo: iStock)

Bradley Worrell

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Sarah Wilson Sokhey says the underlying lesson of the nuclear catastrophe is that the risk has not gone away—and that such disasters don’t recognize national borders

Forty years ago this month, Soviet officials issued their first formal report on the Chornobyl nuclear disaster to the International Atomic Energy Agency—four months after the April 26, 1986, meltdown of Nuclear Reactor No. 4 in Pripyat, Ukraine, released radioactivity across large portions of Europe.

Beyond being the world’s worst nuclear catastrophe on record, one of the most defining aspects of the disaster was the Soviet government’s deliberate decision to withhold information about it immediately afterward, according to Sarah Wilson Sokhey, an associate professor of political science at the University of Colorado Boulder who has spent more than 20 years studying the politics of Russia and the former Soviet Union.

In retrospect, Sokhey says the decision was not surprising given how the Soviet government operated as an organization.

Sarah Wilson Sokhey is a ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� associate professor of political science who has spent more than 20 years studying the politics of Russia and the former Soviet Union.

“It was a very hierarchical system with a very specific chain of command, and there were strong incentives not to report problems and accidents or to minimize their effects,” she explains.

Sokhey notes that it’s not unusual for governments to withhold some information during a crisis to avoid creating unnecessary alarm, but she argues that was not an adequate explanation in the case of Chornobyl.

“If we had a more charitable interpretation of it, we might say they were trying to prevent a panic, but that’s not what was happening in this case because there were people at the heart of the accident who knew right at the beginning how bad this was and how bad it could get,” she says.

Not only did Soviet authorities not notify Western countries near Ukraine, but they didn’t let their own citizens know about what happened in the immediate aftermath. That included nearby residents, who were not evacuated until 36 hours later—even though government officials who were directly involved understood the situation was severe, Sokhey says.

According to the World Nuclear Association, two Chornobyl workers died instantly from the physical blast of the explosion and building collapse on the night of the accident and 28 firefighters and emergency workers died within the first few weeks from acute radiation syndrome.

Meanwhile, the Soviet republic of Belarus, located near the disaster zone, also experienced significant fallout. Sokhey says Belarussian scientists observed elevated radiation levels and that certain areas later saw increased rates of thyroid cancer, particularly in children.

While the Soviet government initially remained mum about the accident, Sokhey says efforts to control information collided with the reality that the disaster could not be confined within Ukraine’s borders. As elevated radiation levels were detected in Sweden and other Western countries, it was no longer possible to keep things under wraps.

Fallout from the nuclear disaster

In the weeks and months following the Soviet government’s first announcement of the nuclear disaster, more information came to light that showed just how serious the accident was, Sokhey says.

Reactor 4 of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant several months after the disaster. (Photo: Ukrainian Society for Friendship and Cultural Relations with Foreign Countries)

“What we know now is that this was not just a small fire and it could not be quickly contained,” she says, contrasting that information with initial government reports. “It was a meltdown of the core of the nuclear reactor, so it was very serious.”

The consequences became obvious relatively quickly.

“They not only evacuated Pripyat, but they didn’t allow people to return,” Sokhey says. “And it was very soon after obvious that they would need to engage in a long-term cleanup effort and have a sarcophagus (containment structure) that was built around the reactor.”

As a proactive measure, the government later resettled 116,000 people who lived within a 30 kilometer radius of the nuclear power plant.

As a result of the disaster, Chornobyl spurred further global debate over the safety of nuclear energy, coming after Three Mile Island in the United States and before Fukushima in Japan, Sokhey notes.

Although the scale of Chornobyl disaster was ultimately acknowledged by the Soviet government, debates over the causes continued for years.

“In the Soviet system, there was a longer process that played out to pin the blame on who, exactly, was responsible within the system,” Sokhey says. “The acknowledgement of the scale of what happened, the accident itself and the conditions under which it happened came not very long after the accident because it had to.”

Initially, blame centered on the plant operators, who shut down the reactor’s safety systems to run tests. Later, questions were raised about the design and construction of the reactor.

A loss of trust

While Soviet officials eventually acknowledged the scale of the crisis and undertook a massive cleanup effort, many Soviet citizens felt deeply betrayed by the initial denials and the delay, Sokhey says.

She attended an event in Denver earlier this year hosted by the National Association of Ukrainian Women to remember the disaster, where some attendees shared their experiences. Sokhey says one woman who lived in Kyiv at the time recalled that large public events continued in the country’s capital days after the Chornobyl explosion, potentially exposing thousands of people to conditions that many now believe should have prompted caution and limited outdoor activity. The woman reported that some information regarding Chornobyl spread via word of mouth and rumors, but that governmental official remained mum at the time.

“For Ukrainians in particular, Chornobyl feeds into a long historical narrative of atrocities committed against the Ukrainian people by the Soviet and Russian system,” Sokhey says. “You’ll hear people in Ukraine talk about it in that vein. They’ll talk about the mass starvation that happened in the Stalinist period with Holodomor and they’ll talk about Chornobyl, because these are seen as a pattern of disregard, or even a pattern of hatred, toward Ukrainian life.”

In retrospect, it is fair to say that Chornobyl deeply damaged the Soviet Union’s reputation both at home and abroad, Sokhey says.

“I think it very much fed into the narrative that the Soviet system was corrupt, outdated and dishonest,” she says. “The public caught them in a very dramatic example of both incompetence and outdated technology and not being honest about the level of the disaster.”

At the same time, Sokhey cautions against the idea that Chornobyl was the catalyst for the Soviet Union’s collapse.

The New Safe Confinement structure placed over reactor 4 at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant in 2016. (Photo: iStock)

At the time of the accident, Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev was pursuing sweeping reforms through “Perestroika” (restructuring) and “Glasnost” (transparency). Economic restructuring was producing disruptions and shortages, while increasing openness allowed citizens to express their frustrations more freely, Sokhey says. She adds that the Soviet war in Afghanistan was draining resources and costing lives, while several Soviet republics including Ukraine, Belarus and the Baltic states were becoming restive.

“All of those things were working together to undermine the Soviet system,” Sokhey says.

Lessons for today

For Sokhey, one of the most enduring lessons of Chornobyl is that environmental disasters can affect everyone, regardless of political boundaries. She argues that the world must pay close attention when authoritarian governments are responsible for reporting information about disasters because the incentives to conceal bad news can delay effective responses and increase harm.

Sokhey says that lesson resonates today, as Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine has renewed concerns about nuclear safety in the region. She points to ongoing worries surrounding both the Chornobyl site, which has been damaged in the fighting, as well as the Zaporizhzhia nuclear plant in southern Ukraine, which is the largest nuclear plant in Europe and which was captured by Russia during the early days of the invasion. Sokhey notes that another nuclear-related crisis could happen at any time.

Forty years after the world learned that something had gone horribly wrong in a small town in northern Ukraine, Sokhey says the radiation may have diminished, but its lessons have not.

“What happened at Chornobyl remains a risk today, and I think it teaches us the danger of what happens when authoritarian regimes are faced with crises—especially ones that affect people outside of their own country.”

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Top photo: iStock

Do elections affect political anger?

Rachel Sauer — Wed, 22 Jul 2026 18:11:31 +0000

Do elections affect political anger? Rachel Sauer Wed, 07/22/2026 - 12:11

A Freedom Party of Austria (FOP) campaign van bearing the image of Herbert Kickl, who has led the party since 2021. The slogan "Dein herz sagt ja" translates to "Your heart says yes." (Photo: Asurnipal/Wikimedia Commons)

Bradley Worrell

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientists find that far-right voters in Austria were less angry after electoral success while many mainstream voters correspondingly became more angry

Much of the current research on right-wing populist parties focuses on what motivates their supporters before elections—particularly anger, anxiety and discontent.

But a recent study from University of Colorado Boulder Department of Political Science Professor Jennifer Fitzgerald and graduate students Mateusz Leszczynski and Sinan Nadarevic takes a different approach. Instead of examining what drives voters to support far-right parties—typically hardline attitudes on immigration, strong Euroskepticism and deep distrust of domestic political leaders—the researchers sought to understand what happens to those voters after their party achieves electoral success.

“What we’re doing is turning that question around,” explains Fitzgerald, whose research focuses on comparative political behavior. “Instead of asking what leads someone to support a far-right party, we’re asking what happens afterwards. Once someone has cast that vote, how do they feel?”

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientists Jennifer Fitzgerald (left), Mateusz Leszczynski (center) and Sinan Nadarevic (right) asked once someone has cast a vote, how do they feel?

The researchers found their answers in studying the 2017 election in Austria, in which the far-right Freedom Party (FPO) finished strongly in third place, allowing it to become a junior partner in a coalition government headed by the center-right Austrian People’s Party (OVP). As the results were counted, FPO voters became less angry and anxious—and more hopeful and confident, the researchers found.

The study’s findings challenge the widely held assumption that populist parties rely on a constant state of anger, says Leszczynski, who studies comparative politics and public policy. Those findings suggest that election outcomes can significantly alter political emotions—at least in the short term, he adds.

Fitzgerald says the research offers a new perspective on how voters experience democratic politics and may help researchers better understand emotional dynamics across modern democracies.

Looking for answers in Austria

One reason the three researchers looked at Austria is because the Freedom Party is one of Western Europe’s longest-running far-right parties and has enjoyed some measure of electoral success, even prior to the 2017 elections, Fitzgerald says.

“(FPO) has a very established electorate and a very well-known brand,” she says.

Austria also had another factor in its favor in terms of studying electoral behavior. Specifically, researchers had access to a rare Austrian survey that tracked political emotions before and after the country’s 2017 national elections. That’s significant because one challenge in studying political emotions is separating them from broader feelings about life, says Nadarevic, who studies comparative politics and American politics.

“It didn’t ask how they felt in general, how they felt about the economy or how they felt about society. It was explicitly focused on the political situation at that moment in time,” he says. He says that distinction helped the researchers isolate political emotions more effectively than many previous studies conducted in other countries with far-right parties.

“We also looked at data from countries such as Britain, Switzerland, the United States and Finland,” he says. “Austria was unique in asking specifically about political emotions rather than simply asking respondents how they were feeling overall.”

Leszczynski says that specificity allowed the researchers “to get much closer to the underlying mechanism.”

At the same time, as with any survey-based study, this research depends on self-reported responses, which always carry built-in limitations, Fitzgerald acknowledges.

“That’s always a challenge with survey data,” she says. “No survey instrument is perfect, and no survey question perfectly captures the phenomenon you’re trying to measure.”

Rather than treating survey responses as definitive proof of emotional states, Fitzgerald says the researchers interpret them in light of existing political psychology research.

“This is where the existing literature becomes so important,” she says. “Prior research gives us a set of theoretical expectations—sometimes competing expectations—which help guide our interpretation of the results.”

Fitzgerald emphasizes that research is an ongoing process of comparing data, theory and previous findings.

“We recognize that surveys don’t provide absolute truth about how people feel,” she says. “However, when interpreted in the context of broader scholarly literature, they can still provide meaningful insights.”

Electoral winners feel better

The study’s central finding is straightforward: Electoral success appears to improve how FPO supporters feel about politics—at least in the short term. Notably, those emotional changes were strongest among voters with deep attachments to the party, Leszczynski says.

“What we looked at was the strength of an individual’s connection to the party,” he says. The researchers compared highly committed supporters with voters who back the FPO but did not strongly identify with it.

“We found that voters who were more strongly connected to the party—what people might call ‘core’ or ‘hardcore’ supporters—experienced much stronger emotional shifts,” Nadarevic says. That finding resembles patterns seen in many democracies, where strong partisans tend to invest more emotionally in election outcomes than voters who simply choose a party in a particular election, he adds.

Fitzgerald says the results suggest that many far-right voters behave much like traditional party loyalists when it comes to how they feel about their preferred party’s electoral performance.

“Our findings suggest that at least some of these voters behave much like traditional partisans,” she explains. “The strongest emotional shifts occurred among those with the strongest partisan attachment.”

Still, the researchers offer a caveat with their findings: Their research makes no claims that election results permanently reduce anger. Campaign cycles may repeatedly increase and decrease emotions; thus, political emotions may be cyclical rather than fixed.

“We can’t say that reduced anger and reduced anxiety persist long term,” Fitzgerald notes.

Elections create winners and losers

Another key finding of the research report: Elections affect more than just the victorious party’s supporters. In the 2017 Austrian election, while FPO voters experienced an emotional uplift, supporters of the center-left Social Democratic Party of Austria (SPO) reacted in the opposite direction.

An FPO campaign booth in Wein, Austria. ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� researchers found that in the 2017 Austrian election, while FPO voters experienced an emotional uplift, supporters of the center-left Social Democratic Party of Austria (SPO) reacted in the opposite direction. (Photo: Janos Korom/Wikimedia Commons)

“What we observed was that center-left voters became more politically angry and anxious after the election,” Leszczynski says. In effect, elections produce emotional winners and losers as well as political ones, he adds.

Fitzgerald says she believes that broader perspective is essential for understanding modern democracy.

“If we looked only at far-right voters, we’d learn something useful from this analysis,” she says. “But by examining other parties as well, we see broader patterns.”

Nadarevic says the result is a kind of emotional trade-off, where gains among one group are accompanied by losses among another.

“To us, that’s a fascinating way to think about elections,” Fitzgerald says. “It highlights just how emotionally consequential modern democratic politics have become.”

Although there are no immediate plans for a follow-up paper, the researchers say a variety of avenues could be pursued, such as designing longitudinal studies in Austria that could better measure emotional changes over time, examining far-right parties and electoral outcomes in other countries, making comparisons across parties and ideologies and putting an even greater focus on the emotional consequences of political participation.

Implications beyond Austria

Although the researchers focused on Austria, they believe its findings could have relevance elsewhere.

Fitzgerald notes that scholars frequently identify similar characteristics among far-right voters in countries such as Germany, the Netherlands, France and Sweden.

“We think there’s a reasonable possibility that our findings could generalize beyond Austria,” she says.

At the same time, the researchers are careful not to overstate their conclusions.

“We view this as a case study with broader theoretical relevance—rather than proof that the same pattern exists everywhere,” Fitzgerald says.

Perhaps the most difficult question raised by the study concerns democratic legitimacy. For instance, if electoral success reduces anger and anxiety among populist voters, does that represent a healthy outcome for democracy? The researchers are cautious about drawing simplistic conclusions.

“It’s certainly something worth thinking about,” Fitzgerald says. However, the answer becomes more complicated when considering the emotional reactions of other voters, she acknowledges.

“If anger and anxiety decline among far-right voters while increasing among center-left voters, it’s hard to conclude that there is an overall gain in democratic legitimacy,” she says.

For the researchers, they say the most important lesson may be that emotions deserve a more central place in discussions about voting and democracy.

“What we can say is that public confidence in democratic politics matters greatly,” Fitzgerald says, “and understanding these emotional dynamics helps us ask better questions about democracies and their citizens.”

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��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientists find that far-right voters in Austria were less angry after electoral success while many mainstream voters correspondingly became more angry.

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Top image: A seemingly defaced FPO candidate billboard in Innsbruck, Austria. (Photo: Jolly Janner/Wikimedia Commons)

CU alumna fights to educate girls in the world’s youngest country

Rachel Sauer — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 15:36:07 +0000

CU alumna fights to educate girls in the world’s youngest country Rachel Sauer Wed, 07/08/2026 - 09:36

Cody DeBos

In South Sudan, change happens when girls pick up books, says Micklina Kenyi

Before a girl opens her eyes in South Sudan or in a refugee camp across the border, her day is likely already spoken for.

There is water to fetch, meals to cook and siblings to care for. In families stretched thin by poverty and regional instability, she may be sent to work in a neighbor’s household, her wages handed directly to her parents until it’s time to marry.

School, if an option at all, belongs to her brothers.

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� alumna Micklina Kenyi fled the now-South Sudan as a child and built the nonprofit Girls With Books! to support girls there in attaining education.

This is simply the way of life in South Sudan, a fledgling country celebrating 15 years of independence July 9.

Micklina Kenyi grew up in this world and knows it well. Now the University of Colorado Boulder alumna is working to change the outlook on education in South Sudan one girl at a time.

From refugee to advocate

Kenyi fled what is now South Sudan as a young child, spending years crossing borders and running between villages, orphanages and refugee camps before arriving in the United States in 2003 as part of the Lost Girls of Sudan program.

She eventually made her way to Colorado and ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ��, where she earned dual bachelor’s degrees in political science and women and gender studies.

“I felt these majors would help me understand the politics going on the in U.S. and in South Sudan. I wanted to understand the question: ‘Why are people using women and ignoring women?’” Kenyi says.

She also wanted to research why harmful cultural practices are consistently forced on women and whether women in South Sudan were alone in facing them. Unsurprisingly, they aren’t.

After learning of similar experiences lived out by women across India, China, Eastern Europe, Africa and indigenous communities in America, a conviction took shape.

“It is only going to be women who can liberate themselves, and only women to be advocates for themselves and come up with programs that will elevate the situation of all women. Why? Because we understand what it’s like and what it takes to change things,” Kenyi says.

With this perspective, Kenyi leaned on her education to start building what would eventually become the Boulder-based nonprofit Girls With Books!, where she serves as executive director.

Building Girls With Books!

The organization’s roots trace back along the very pathways through which Kenyi found herself arriving in the United States.

“It was once possible to bring girls to the U.S. the same way that I came, through legal process, so I thought maybe I could do something like that,” she says.

Unfortunately, that pathway closed as the political landscape in Sudan and South Sudan shifted. But rather than giving up, Kenyi and Girls With Books! has developed an approach that brings education to the girls in their own hometowns.

“The mission of Girls With Books! is to educate South Sudanese girls to become peacebuilders and positive change-makers in South Sudan,” says Micklina Kenyi. (Photo: Micklina Kenyi)

“We provide education for South Sudanese girls in Juba and Bor cities, as well as in northern Ugandan refugee camps. Our program covers primary and secondary education, including post-graduation courses like computer skills and entrepreneurship,” Kenyi says.

The program funds tuition and room and board at private schools to address the limitations of government-run public schools. It also provides girls with uniforms, school supplies, toiletries and feminine hygiene products.

“The mission of Girls With Books! is to educate South Sudanese girls to become peacebuilders and positive change-makers in South Sudan,” Kenyi says.

That’s an uphill battle in a country where fewer than 5% of girls graduate high school. However, Kenyi says most girls jump at the chance to go to school when an opportunity becomes available and thrive once there.

For a girl whose day was once consumed by labor and household chores, graduating from school opens new doors. Some go on to university, others start businesses, and even those who marry soon after graduating carry their education forward.

“They carry with them the knowledge and skills learned in school and become moms who are better equipped to raise children who usually have better health and education outcomes than most,” Kenyi says.

For those who want to pursue a future outside the home, jobs are scarce, Kenyi says, which is why Girls With Books! seeks to equip graduates with practical skills in addition to a good education.

“The program includes post-graduate work in computer training and job-readiness skills like interviewing, networking and resume writing. Armed with some of these practical skills, graduates have a greater potential to be hired,” she explains.

In 2025, Girls With Books! supported 116 South Sudanese schoolgirls, a number expected to grow to 150 this year. (Photo: Micklina Kenyi)

Fifteen years and building

This July marks 15 years since South Sudan declared independence. Building a new country from the ground up is arduous work, and there is still much to be done.

“South Sudan has not yet realized its potential as a new independent country,” Kenyi says.

She calls out the endemic corruption that has diverted oil revenue—the country’s main source of income—away from roads, hospitals, schools and civil servants a young nation desperately needs.

Meanwhile, ongoing fighting disrupts students’ routines and complicates operations on the ground for organizations like Kenyi’s.

“Some of the biggest challenges to the work of Girls With Books! are the lack of focus, by the government, on building the country’s infrastructure and investing in the educational system and in civil society,” Kenyi notes.

Yet the girls keep showing up.

“There is, however, surprising resilience among the young students we work with, and their sense of hope often reminds us how important our presence is for their futures,” she adds.

Pitching in

Over time, Kenyi and Girls With Books! have identified a formula that works. In 2025, the organization supported 116 South Sudanese girls, and Kenyi expects to raise that number to 150 this year.

The next challenge is scaling their impact even further.

“Our hope is that we can find enough funding to implement these programs on a national basis, so that young women can begin to impact the directions of the country and to cement the commitment to a peaceful society,” Kenyi says.

Of course, finances aren’t everything. For those interested in contributing beyond a donation, Kenyi says Girls With Books! welcomes volunteers to help with communications, program design and fundraising efforts.

“Also reaching out to students in U.S. schools so students here can better understand the realities of life in countries like South Sudan,” she adds.

Much like its future as a country, the story of South Sudan’s next generation is still being written. Thanks to the work of Kenyi and Girls With Books!, girls in Juba, Bor and the surrounding areas are in class, ensuring they have a fair chance to be the ones who write it.

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In South Sudan, change happens when girls pick up books, says Micklina Kenyi.

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Top image: Girls at school in South Sudan (Photo: Micklina Kenyi)

Ten years after Brexit, the consequences are clear…and complicated

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 22 Jun 2026 22:28:02 +0000

Ten years after Brexit, the consequences are clear…and complicated Rachel Sauer Mon, 06/22/2026 - 16:28

Bradley Worrell

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Joseph Jupille says reverberations from the United Kingdom’s vote to exit the European Union are still being felt a decade later

Ten years ago this week, British voters narrowly chose to leave the European Union, with about 52% voting in favor of leaving and 48% against. The result stunned many observers around the world, including Joseph Jupille, a University of Colorado Boulder political science professor who teaches courses on European politics and who is writing a book on the European Union.

“I woke up the next morning and saw the results, and it was shocking,” he says, recalling first hearing the results of the June 23, 2016, vote.

Still, Jupille is quick to point out that the shock was not the result of a sudden shift, noting that Britain’s uneasy relationship with the European continent had been building for decades.

Joseph Jupille is a ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political science professor who teaches courses on European politics and who is writing a book on the European Union.

“In a historical sense, it wasn’t surprising at all,” he says. “If some country was going to leave the European Union, it was always going to be Britain.”

The decision to hold the voter referendum on exiting the European Union—popularly termed “Brexit”—was initiated by then-Prime Minister David Cameron, who hoped it would settle longstanding divisions within his own Conservative Party. Cameron expected voters would ultimately choose to remain in the European Union, strengthening his political position.

Instead, the gamble reshaped the country—and Europe—almost immediately, Jupille says.

Why the British voted to leave the EU

To understand Brexit, Jupille says it’s important to understand that the motives behind the vote were never purely economic. At the core, he says, was a powerful, emotional appeal centered on control, sovereignty and identity.

“The main slogan was ‘taking back control,’” he explains. For many British voters, the European Union represented a remote and intrusive authority—one that regulated economic life in ways they felt diminished national sovereignty. Jupille says leaving the EU was framed as a way to restore Britain’s independence.

Closely tied to that message were concerns about immigration. As part of EU membership, Britain accepted free movement of labor—one of Europe’s “four freedoms,” along with the movement of goods, services and capital. While this openness created economic opportunities, Jupille says it also brought large numbers of migrants to Britain, particularly after the EU expanded into Central and Eastern Europe.

For many voters, that influx raised concerns about the country’s cultural change.

“There was a vision of what Britain is and about what it means to be British,” Jupille says. “Some people felt that was under threat.”

Another popular argument focused on the country’s National Health Service. During the campaign, Brexit proponents claimed that the money Britain sent to Brussels (home of the European Union) could instead be invested in the NHS—a symbol of national pride. That promise resonated widely, even though it would later prove difficult to fulfill, Jupille says.

Taken together, Jupille says, the three pillar arguments for leaving the European Union (popularly known as the “Leave” campaign) formed a compelling narrative: Britain could reclaim control, protect its identity and redirect resources toward its own citizens by leaving the EU.

Why the case for ‘Remain’ fell short

British supporters for remaining in the EU (popularly known as the “Remain” campaign) primarily focused on economic arguments. Membership, Remain supporters argued, gave Britain access to a vast single market, with lowered costs and boosted prosperity.

Those arguments were accurate, Jupille says, but he argues that they were difficult to communicate.

A pro-Brexit banner and demonstrator outside the House of Commons in London. (Photo: ChiralJon/Wikimedia Commons)

“Economic arguments can be hard to sell,” he explains. “People don’t always understand the benefits of open markets.”

In contrast, the cultural and identity-based arguments of the Leave campaign were more immediate and tangible. While Remain supporters promoted the idea of a “Global Britain” that thrived through international engagement, that vision struggled to compete with concerns about sovereignty and national identity, Jupille says.

What was happening in European and global markets leading up to the 2016 Brexit vote didn’t help the Remain cause, Jupille says. The global financial crisis starting in 2008 and the Eurozone crisis in 2009 cast doubt on the stability of European institutions.

“Media coverage often highlighted struggling economies in Southern Europe, which reinforced skepticism,” he says.

Jupille says it’s also important to understand the Brexit vote in the context of Britain’s long history of ambivalence toward European integration.

In the late 1950s, when the foundations were being laid for the European Economic Community, the precursor of the EU, Britain initially declined to participate, choosing instead to focus on its Commonwealth partners. The country eventually joined in 1973, but only after recognizing that its economic future lay more with Europe rather than distant partners, Jupille says.

Even then, he says, Britain opted out of certain agreements, including the Euro currency, and it repeatedly sought to renegotiate the terms of its participation.

“The British were always ‘awkward partners,’” he says, referring to a phrase coined by British political scientist Stephen George. “They were always sort of one foot out.”

Brexit vote lingers 10 years later

A decade later, Jupille says the consequences of Britain’s decision to leave the European Union have become both clearer—and more complicated.

From an economic standpoint, evidence suggests that Brexit has come at a cost. While estimates vary, Jupille says a widely circulated figure place Britain’s gross domestic product about 4% lower than it might have been had the country remained in the EU.

Meanwhile, the promises of Brexit have proved elusive. Immigration, for example, has not decreased overall. Instead, its composition has changed, with migrants primarily coming from India, Africa and China rather than EU countries, Jupille says.

Similarly, the much-anticipated windfall for the National Health Service has not materialized, as the NHS continues to face funding pressures and long wait times, he says.

At the same time, public opinion regarding Brexit has changed.

An anti-Brexit demonstrator at Westminster Green in London. (Photo: ChiralJon/Wikimedia Commons)

“It looks like about 60% of respondents in recent polls suggest that Brexit was a mistake and would lean toward rejoining, if that were an option,” Jupille says. While views remain divided, the needle has moved significantly since 2016, he adds.

“It (Brexit) hasn’t turned out the way it was promised. That underpins a lot of people’s regret.”

Another Brexit in the offing?

Could another European Union nation follow in the steps of Britain and stage its own Brexit?

For now, Jupille says he believes that risk is limited. Currently, no EU country is seriously discussing leaving—in part because of how the EU handled negotiations with Britain upon its departure. A revised trade agreement between the UK and the EU in 2025 has lowered some trade barriers but does not carry all of the advantages of EU membership, Jupille says.

“The EU has played hardball,” he says. “It wants Brexit to serve as an object lesson to other countries.”

By making the process of leaving complex and costly, EU leaders hope to discourage other member countries from following suit, Jupille says.

Meanwhile, the greater risk, he suggests, is not outright departures but attempts by major countries to renegotiate their terms of membership. Movements within France and Germany that push for more national control could create significant challenges for the EU’s future stability, he says.

At its heart, Jupille says Brexit illustrates a fundamental friction that is not limited to any one country.

“Our economic interests push us toward cooperation,” he says. In a globalized world, trade, investment and meeting worldwide challenges are best addressed at a broader, transnational level, he adds.

At the same time, political identity remains strongly rooted in the nation-state, as people feel a stronger attachment to their country than to larger entities like the EU, Jupille says. That attachment creates a powerful pull toward sovereignty and independence.

The result is a trade-off.

“You can have control over a smaller set of options,” Jupille explains, “or you can give up some control and have better options.”

In a sense, he says, Brexit is a case study in what happens when a country chooses the former.

Why Brexit still matters today

Ten years on, Jupille says Brexit continues to offer lessons not only for the United Kingdom but also for other countries grappling with similar questions related to sovereignty and the realities of an interconnected world.

“This is a central dilemma of the 21st century,” he says. “Brexit embodies the tension between rational economic cooperation and emotional attachments to national identity.”

Brexit also is instructive regarding the benefits of economic cooperation, Jupille says. For all of its flaws, the EU represents a remarkable transformation on the European continent, he says, noting that within the span of a century, Europe moved from two world wars that ravaged much of Europe to a time of relative peace and prosperity. He specifically credits institutions like the EU for playing a crucial role in that shift, helping to bind former rivals together, stating, “It remains the greatest example of countries that used to kill each other learning to live together.”

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��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Joseph Jupille says reverberations from the United Kingdom’s vote to exit the European Union are still being felt a decade later.

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TikTok doesn’t change minds—it changes moods

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 23 Mar 2026 23:25:55 +0000

TikTok doesn’t change minds—it changes moods Rachel Sauer Mon, 03/23/2026 - 17:25

Bradley Worrell

New research from ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Michelangelo Landgrave finds that watching political influencers on TikTok does not seem to influence young voters on the issues—but does leave them feeling sadder, angrier and more anxious

If you are over the age of 30, put aside those preconceived ideas that TikTok is just a website where teens and young adults watch 10-second videos of cute cats.

According to the Pew Research Center, about one in five U.S. adults now regularly gets their news from TikTok—and usage is highest among people under age 30. That shift prompted University of Colorado Boulder political scientist Michelangelo Landgrave to ask a simple but important question: What does consuming political content on TikTok actually do to young voters?

In a new study published in Political Studies Review, Landgrave and his co-authors found that while TikTok videos from political influencers don’t appear to change young voters’ positions on the issues, they do have an impact—making those viewers feel more negative emotional states, such as anxiety, anger and sadness.

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Michelangelo Landgrave and his research colleagues found that while TikTok political influencers may not change minds, they do change moods.

Landgrave recently discussed the findings of his research paper with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine. His comments have been edited lightly for clarity and condensed.

Question: How does this latest study fit into your broader area of research?

Landgrave: I study American politics broadly, including institutions and political behavior. This paper is primarily a behavior study. It was inspired by earlier work examining how exposure to traditional news media—like Fox News and CNN—shapes political beliefs.

We started thinking that traditional media isn’t where many young people get their news anymore. Instead, they’re getting it from TikTok or similar short‑form video platforms like YouTube. It’s arguably the only type of media where the number of people getting news is actually increasing. Traditional media still has an audience, but it’s relatively stagnant and it skews older.

That led us to ask: Does this change in media format affect how people process political information?

Question: At the outset, were you surprised to learn how many younger Americans are getting their news from TikTok?

Landgrave: Somewhat. One of our co‑authors, Robert Anstett, was a student at the time, and we brought him onto the project explicitly because neither I nor the other senior co‑author, Abdelaziz Alsharawy (assistant professor at UT Health Houston School of Public Health), really used TikTok. We had a sense this was happening, but we weren’t firsthand users of TikTok.

We had read a Pew Research Center report noting that an increasing number of people get their news from TikTok, and both of us thought, ‘Isn’t that just a 5‑second clip? What can you really get from that?’

That skepticism helped motivate the study.

Question: When and where was this study conducted?

Landgrave: This study was conducted in 2023 at the University of Missouri while I was finishing my work there. Missouri turned out to be ideal because, while it’s a red state at the presidential level, the local student population was about evenly split—roughly 50% Democrat and 50% Republican. The experiment involved political science students who agreed to participate in the experiment.

Question: How did the experiment work?

Landgrave: At the start of the weeklong study, participants were randomly assigned—regardless of their political views—to one of three groups. One group watched Democratic‑leaning political videos, another watched Republican‑leaning videos, and the control group watched nonpolitical content—mostly animal videos.

We didn’t produce the videos ourselves. These were real TikTok videos that had been popular in the week leading up to the study.

"Because the videos are so short, influencers rely heavily on emotion rather than argument. Both Democratic and Republican videos leaned strongly on negative emotions—sadness, fear and anxiety," says ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� scholar Michelangelo Landgrave.

Question: With political influencer content, did you notice any notable differences in who was producing the content by age, gender or race? What about the frequency of posts?

Landgrave: That surprised us. We expected differences but we didn’t find much. Age, gender and racial diversity were fairly balanced across political sides.

We did observe that Democratic‑leaning influencers produce more videos and tend to have more followers. Both are still dwarfed by nonpolitical content like animal videos, but there is a clear production imbalance. It’s unclear whether that’s due to the algorithm or differences in content creation. We can’t say for sure.

Question: Were there differences in the way Democratic and Republican influencers made their cases to TikTok viewers?

Landgrave: That was one of our most interesting findings. Because the videos are so short, influencers rely heavily on emotion rather than argument. Both Democratic and Republican videos leaned strongly on negative emotions—sadness, fear and anxiety.

Republican‑leaning videos tended to show more negative emotions like contempt and fear. That said, both sides relied heavily on negative emotions. Democratic-leaning videos were more likely to utilize anger. By contrast, traditional news often includes lighter or feel‑good stories, while animal videos found on TitkTok are, of course, just animals being animals.

Question: If the political videos on TikTok are less than a minute, it doesn’t seem like that’s enough time to properly address an issue in a substantive way?

Landgrave: Exactly. Even short television news segments usually provide some nuance and context. There’s a reason it takes 10, 20 or even 60 minutes to follow the news properly. With 5‑ or 10‑second clips, there’s very little room for nuance—you’re really only getting snippets.

Question: After the weeklong experiment, research subjects who watched these influencer videos showed no evidence of changing their opinions on political topics?

Landgrave: That’s correct. We didn’t find evidence that political attitudes changed—even after a full week of exposure. This is important because it wasn’t just one video; the algorithm adapts. Once someone starts watching a type of content, TikTok shows them more of it. So, effectively, we were altering their algorithm for a week—and still didn’t see attitude change.

It’s possible longer exposure—months or years—could matter, but at least over a week, we didn’t see a direct effect on political attitudes.

Question: But you did see emotional effects even at just one week?

Landgrave: Yes. While political attitudes didn’t change, emotional states did. After a week of political TikTok exposure—regardless of whether it was Democratic or Republican—participants reported feeling more sadness, anxiety and anger.

I went into this study fairly ambivalent, assuming concerns were probably overstated. But after seeing the results, I’m genuinely worried about the emotional effects on young people.

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� scholar Michelangelo Landgrave and his research colleagues found that after a week of political TikTok exposure—regardless of whether it was Democratic or Republican—participants reported feeling more sadness, anxiety and anger. (Photo: Kelly Sikkema/Unsplash)

Question: Do you believe there are possible policy implications here?

Landgrave: Speaking only as a private citizen, and not representing ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� position, I think there’s reason for concern—particularly regarding children and teenagers. While we didn’t find direct political effects, we did find emotional harm.

That suggests policymakers should consider stronger safeguards, whether that’s time limits, improved parental controls or other measures.

Question: Why do you think emotions changed but political attitudes didn’t?

Landgrave: That surprised me, too. We focused on young adults because their political views are still forming. If there were going to be an effect, we expected to see it there.

One possibility is that emotional effects accumulate faster than ideological change. I also wonder whether younger audiences—middle school or even elementary‑age children—might be more susceptible, though that research would require different expertise.

Question: Were your survey participants already using TikTok?

Landgrave: Almost all of them. Only about five participants had never used TikTok. Most already had accounts and varied only in how much they used it. Our intervention didn’t replace their normal viewing—it nudged the algorithm by requiring them to watch specific videos daily.

Question: How confident are you that TikTok itself caused the negative emotional effects, rather than outside life stress?

Landgrave: Because it was an experimental study with random assignment, we’re confident we controlled for most external factors. That said, I’d love to explore conditional effects—whether the impact is stronger for heavy users, rural populations or people with fewer entertainment alternatives.

Question: Do you believe this is a subject area worthy of more exploration, possibly on what longer-term exposure to TikTok might mean for mental health outlook? And maybe whether political influencers have a greater influence over a longer-term period?

Landgrave: Long‑term experimental studies would be very difficult, but observational work is possible. As a researcher—and as a teacher—I’m increasingly concerned about the mental health effects (of social media) on younger people. I see students who seem almost addicted to these platforms, and I worry about my nieces and nephews too.

I want to be clear: This is speculative, but I can imagine an indirect effect over time. Years of exposure to emotionally negative content could potentially radicalize people or increase tolerance for extreme behavior. Our study can’t prove that, but it raises important questions.

Question: If you do more research on this particular subject, what might that look like?

Landgrave: We want to use eye‑tracking technology—glasses that track where people are actually looking. That would help us understand whether viewers are focused on the speaker, the text or even the video at all. Future studies might also involve controlled lab settings to see whether focused attention changes outcomes.

Question: Have you received feedback from other researchers on your published work regarding TikTok influencers?

Landgrave: Yes. Colleagues have reached out, including researchers studying similar effects internationally. This may not be a uniquely American issue—it could be global.

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When the mountain becomes a mirror

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 19 Mar 2026 17:42:33 +0000

When the mountain becomes a mirror Rachel Sauer Thu, 03/19/2026 - 11:42

Cody DeBos

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� alum Jason Kolaczkowski’s new memoir reveals lessons found in the mountains and in life

Jason Kolaczkowski (PolSci ’99) didn’t know if the Himalayas would bring him clarity, but he knew he needed to attempt the first ascent of an unclimbed peak. Diagnosed with leukemia just a year earlier, he boarded a flight to Asia in 2019 with a plan.

The goal wasn’t to make history as a mountaineer. For Kolaczkowski, the trip was about defying the notion that his time was already running out.

“There was a moment when I thought to myself, ‘I’m going to die a lot younger than I thought I was, and so I want to go and do this thing.’ There was no going back from there,” he recalls.

Jason Kolaczkowski (PolSci ’99), shown here at basecamp, attempted the first ascent of a previously unclimbed Himalayan peak after being diagnosed with leukemia. (All photos courtesy Jason Kolaczkowski)

In his forthcoming memoir, Notions of Grace: A Memoir of Climbing, Cancer and Family, Kolaczkowski chronicles the lessons learned leading up to and following that expedition.

“It started as internal processing for me. The process of writing the book was really then an act of compulsion,” he explains. “I wanted to archive a snapshot of my life for my kids, who were too young to understand at the time. Maybe when they’re 14 and maybe again when they’re 24—maybe they’ll care.”

The mountain becomes a mirror

Wrestling with risk, fatherhood, identity and a cancer diagnosis layered with unknowns, Kolaczkowski thought of climbing as a reprieve.

The type of slow-progressing leukemia he had been diagnosed with can remain asymptomatic for years. Treatment wasn’t recommended yet, so he entered a “watch-and-wait” phase that included taking precautions to protect his compromised immune system.

But Kolaczkowski’s internal clock was ticking.

A climber since the late Aughts, he had long dreamed of attempting a previously unclimbed route. He started planning the Himalayan expedition before his diagnosis, but after it came, the trip felt more urgent.

“The first big question was: Well, should I even still go?” he says. “I ultimately reached the conclusion that I still felt healthy enough to do it.”

After finding the right group, the pieces fell into place, but the climb itself would soon be a wakeup call. In Notions of Grace, Kolaczkowski describes the peril of fixing lines in a gully littered with rockfall. The terrain, though not inherently difficult to climb, was deadly in its indifference. The mountain didn't care if Kolaczkowski died.

“What I came away with was a new sense of self-awareness. Just being in that amount of danger for that amount of time shifted my mindset into a much more forward-looking place again,” he says.

The expedition didn’t end in a triumphant summit photo, but Kolaczkowski flew home counting it as a success.

“I was really looking forward to going home and doing things with my kids.”

Writing for who matters most

Kolaczkowski describes his emotional state before the trip as grief for a life transformed by factors beyond his control.

“I guess you could say that telling a private story in public is another form of accepting risk,” says Jason Kolaczkowski of writing his memoir.

“Getting a cancer diagnosis really is a grieving process. You’re giving up a life that you had—an understanding of your goals and your family dynamics that you had—and you have to let it go and shift into the acceptance eventually of what is reality now,” he says.

Writing became his way of documenting this shift. His sons remained the intended audience for a while, but after sharing early drafts with friends over time, Kolaczkowski’s outlook on the project changed.

“People started telling me, ‘I think there are some universal themes here that other people would be interested in.’ So, I started thinking of ways to maybe get this published,” he says.

He kept writing, bringing the meticulous habits learned in planning expeditions and climbing rugged peaks to the page.

“Rather than focusing on getting the book done, my goal was to put in effort consistently. Some efforts will be great; others won’t be,” Kolaczkowski says.

“If you think about not making summits, and when to turn around and all that sort of stuff, having enough self-forgiveness to accept that, it translates well. Maybe today was hard to write and it just isn’t coming out; that’s OK as long as I’ve made the attempt,” he adds.

The calculus of risk

The title of Kolaczkowski’s memoir mirrors its tone. Grace isn’t something he claims to possess in abundance. Rather, he jokes that it’s often a goal he stumbles toward, describing several moments in the book as a “series of misadventures rather than adventures.”

The throughline connecting mountains, medical challenges and fatherhood is a series of lessons on living life with just the right amount of risk.

Just a few months after Kolaczkowski returned from Nepal, there were new obstacles to overcome as the COVID-19 pandemic hit. Strict precautions for protecting his health became necessary, leading the Kolaczkowskis to the decision to homeschool their sons.

“We were shrinking down the world in order to keep me safe, but 5-year olds need their world to expand. What are we willing to do from a mitigation perspective when it comes at a cost?” he asks.

At first, the choice felt aligned with his family’s needs. But after watching one of his sons be afraid to touch playground equipment, Kolaczkowski knew it was time to rethink his approach to risk.

“And that’s what the book is about. How little risk is too little risk? How much is too much? Because we had taken too little risk and it was visibly stunting the character development of my kids,” he says.

Fortunately, in his years of climbing, Kolaczkowski had already developed a mental framework for managing uncertainty.

Jason Kolaczkowski approaches a couloir entrance on his Himalayan climb.

“You’re constantly building in these points where you are having the meta-conversation about the thing that you're doing,” he says. “You're talking about how to talk about the climb.”

That same approach became essential to not only navigating the pandemic but rebuilding his family’s relationship with adventure. Because his wife, Kristina, had often accompanied him on climbing trips, she shared some of the same language.

“The ability to sort of coalesce around that sort of meta-conversation—how are we going to talk about how we're going to deal with these new risks—was a big part of our family life,” he says.

Return to adventure

Eventually, Kolaczkowski and his family began venturing out again. Hiking, climbing and reconnecting in the relative safety of the outdoors during the pandemic ultimately led to a 100-mile family hike around Mont Blanc.

“I’ve never seen them quite so happy,” he says, recalling his sons’ experience on the trip.

Today, Kolaczkowski is planning many more adventures, some with his sons and some on his own. He recently joined an expedition in Kyrgyzstan and is looking ahead to more climbs, including a return to Nepal in 2027.

Telling his story publicly, he says, was another kind of healing.

“I guess you could say that telling a private story in public is another form of accepting risk,” he admits.

But as Kolaczkowski sets his eyes on what the future will bring, public opinions aren’t what he worries about.

“That’s one of the nice things about having cancer. It puts other stuff in perspective,” he says with a smile.

Notions of Grace: A Memoir of Climbing, Cancer and Family is available for pre-order now through DAP Books and will be released March 31.

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��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� alum Jason Kolaczkowski’s new memoir reveals lessons found in the mountains and in life.

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Top photo: Jason Kolaczkowski at an 18,000-foot camp

Exhibit highlights environmental impacts of war in Ukraine

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 19 Feb 2026 21:40:01 +0000

Exhibit highlights environmental impacts of war in Ukraine Rachel Sauer Thu, 02/19/2026 - 14:40

“Ecocide in Wartime Ukraine,” a pop-up exhibit at the CU Art Museum Feb. 20, shows through images and interactive displays how the ongoing war has environmentally devastated the country

Feb. 24 will mark the four-year anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine—a devastating anniversary marking the escalation of a longtime conflict into a war that has not abated in devastation or loss.

A sometimes-overlooked aspect of the wartime devastation is the environmental destruction: ruined farmland, poisoned waterways, endless plains of rubble. These losses will be featured in “Ecocide in Wartime Ukraine,” a pop-up interactive exhibit and reception from 4-6 p.m. Friday, Feb. 20, at the CU Art Museum.

The exhibit—sponsored by Svidok.org, Ukrainians of Colorado and the University of Colorado Boulder International Affairs Program—includes largescale photos of the environmental destruction that has happened in Ukraine since the war began along with descriptions and QR codes that participants can scan to learn more.

During Friday’s exhibit, Roman Oleksenko, a community development program manager for Peace Corps Ukraine, will join virtually from Ukraine. Since the full-scale Russian invasion, Oleksenko, who lives in Kyiv with his family, has been volunteering with a non-profit called Ukrainian Action, which delivers humanitarian aid to Ukraine.

U.S. Rep Joe Neguse has said he will attend Friday’s event, as will Boulder businessman and philanthropist Michael Brady, who will talk about his recent trip to Ukraine.

Layers of tragedy

“Ecocide in Wartime Ukraine” was originally proposed by Mark Dillen, a former diplomat with the U.S. State Department who now is director of public affairs for Ukrainians of Colorado. Sarah Sokhey, a ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� associate professor of political science and Eurasia specialist, met Dillen at an event “and he knew about the availability of these posters through this organization,” she explains.

If you go

What: Ecocide in Wartime Ukraine pop-up exhibit

When: 4-6 p.m. Friday, Feb. 20

Where: CU Art Museum

Other upcoming Ukraine-focused events include:

Speaker Series: Civil Society and Ukraine Resilience at 12:30 p.m. Friday, Feb. 20, on Zoom
Solar Chargers for Ukraine: convert solar panels to solar chargers and decorate them, 10-12:30 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 28, at Fairview High School

In one photo, a red truck traverses a dirt road between two charred fields as smoke billows behind it. “Ukraine’s fertile land, which helps feed much of the world, is being burned and razed to the ground by Russian attacks,” the description notes.

Another photo shows a person hugging a gray cat, and the description is in their words: “On the day the Kakhovka dam was blown up, water began to arrive quickly at 10 pm. People tried to save their property. My grandfather, who had just lost his wife (whose body likely could not find peace due to the flooding and erosion of the cemetery) carried things from his house from 10pm until 4am. Just imagine being forced to swim in cold water all night, in your 70s, with kidney problems and prostatitis.

“My grandfather had chickens, rabbits, and dogs. Our lop- eared Scottish cat, just a huge feline with whom I grew up, simply drowned, and no one helped him. He just drowned in the water. My other cat, also Scottish, but with straight ears, disappeared, and I'm still looking for him. The same thing happened to my sheepdog.”

“There are so many layers of tragedy happening in Ukraine, and I think highlighting any of those is important,” Sokhey says. “Now that we’re four years since the full-scale invasion and still the war is going on, as bad as it’s ever been, it can be hard to know what to emphasize. An aspect of the war that we thought people were missing is the long-term environmental damage—what it means for people living there, what it means for trying to rebuild after war.

“We hope people will come away with a better appreciation of the scale of destruction and the ongoing level of destruction and what that means for people’s quality of life. I don’t know that it’s all reversible, so I think seeing the scale of tragedy and the human impact is really important.”

Sokhey, who asked Oleksenko to join the exhibit, says he readily agreed, but with the caveat that he wants people to know that "'our daily thoughts are not about the environment right now,’” she says. “He’s in Kyiv, which is being attacked regularly, so for him and a lot of people it’s a day-to-day survival issue. While we want people to understand the scale and scope of environmental damage, we also want people to be aware of the human element. A lot of people don’t have the bandwidth to worry about these issues right now when they’re trying to get food and stay warm and stay alive.

“We want to document and note the environmental destruction because a lot of people in Ukraine can’t even think about that right now. They don’t have the luxury of thinking that long-term. That’s how bad it is.”

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“Ecocide in Wartime Ukraine,” a pop-up exhibit at the CU Art Museum Feb. 20, shows through images and interactive displays how the ongoing war has environmentally devastated the country.

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Flashpoint: Taiwan

Rachel Sauer — Fri, 09 Jan 2026 22:19:40 +0000

Flashpoint: Taiwan Rachel Sauer Fri, 01/09/2026 - 15:19

Bradley Worrell

In new book, ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Steve Chan highlights the dangers of a Sino-U.S. war over Taiwan and why the Chinese believe time is on their side in their goal for reunification

Just 110 miles off China’s coast lies Taiwan, an island described by some political pundits as “the most dangerous place in the world”—and the place most likely to ignite a war between China and the United States.

“Taiwan is the single greatest flashpoint for a possible conflict between the U.S. and China—and yet most Americans likely could not locate the island on a map,” muses Steve Chan, professor of distinction emeritus with the ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� Department of Political Science, whose research focus is on Sino-American relations. “Nevertheless, the island’s significance is very real to both sides.”

Taiwan, which was ruled for a time by Japan as a colony, was returned to China after World War II. Following Japan’s surrender, China’s long-simmering civil war between the Nationalists and Communists broke out anew, resulting in a Communist victory in 1949 that forced the Nationalists to retreat to the island refuge, which they called the Republic of China on Taiwan.

Steve Chan, professor of distinction emeritus with the ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� Department of Political Science, researches Sino-American relations and recently published the book Taiwan and the Danger of a Sino-American War.

Technically, the two sides are still at war.

Since President Richard Nixon visited Beijing in 1972, the United States had signed several communiques with China acknowledging that there is only one China—and that Taiwan is part of China. However, Washington continues to bolster Taiwan’s defense, stating that it wants to see the impasse between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait resolved peacefully.

For its part, Beijing has never renounced its goal to reunify Taiwan, by force, if necessary, claiming this goal involves its “core interest.” At the same time, continued U.S. support for Taiwan’s de facto independence fuels fears of an armed clash between it and China.

Chan explores these tensions in his book Taiwan and the Danger of a Sino-American War. Recently, Chan spoke with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine to get his thoughts on why China so badly wants to reclaim Taiwan, what’s at stake for both sides and what the future for reunification might look like. His responses have been condensed and edited for clarity.

Question: Why does China want Taiwan so badly, and why does America want Taiwan to remain independent?

Chan: I return your question with another question, which is: Why does Abraham Lincoln have such an exalted place in American history? Because he resisted the Confederacy’s secession and preserved the Union. That’s how Chinese think about Taiwan.

One of my quibbles with conventional reasoning is that people forget about their own history. They do not ask: What if the shoe is on the other foot? Therefore, the question is: How did the United States settle its own civil war? By bullets—not by ballots—in a very brutal civil war.

Taiwan is a flashpoint. The domestic political climate in neither the United States nor China is currently conducive to reasoned discourse. When it comes to national sovereignty and unity, these highly emotion-laden values do not yield to compromise.

It is abundantly clear, however, that should war break out over Taiwan’s status, it would be to the great detriment of all sides—China, Taiwan and the U.S., should it decide to intervene. It would be a disaster for the world to have the most powerful countries—the two leading countries in the world—to come to blows.

"Taiwan is important to the U.S. for strategic reasons. Washington cares about Taiwan because of its strategic position. It’s the linchpin—the pivot of the so-called ‘first island chain’ to contain China," says ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� scholar Steve Chan. (Photo: Pixaby)

Question: You say in your book that U.S. backing for Taiwan is sometimes framed by policymakers as supporting democracy and human rights. You don’t agree?

Steve Chan: Not to make too fine a point, but U.S. invocations of human rights and democracy are, frankly, full of hot air, because the U.S. support for Taiwan was strongest under the Kuomintang (the Nationalists, in the 1950s and 1960s), when it was a single-party authoritarian government that ruled the island by martial law.

Taiwan is important to the U.S. for strategic reasons. Washington cares about Taiwan because of its strategic position. It’s the linchpin—the pivot of the so-called ‘first island chain’ to contain China. The first island chain seeks to box in China’s navy, preventing its access to the open Pacific.

The U.S. military is able to use Taiwan as a choke point, because Chinese ships—submarines especially—cannot transit to the open Pacific without going through some very narrow channels where the United States can monitor the Chinese ships’ movements.

If China were to conquer Taiwan, to control Taiwan, it would have broken through the first island chain, which goes from the Aleutian Islands, through Japan, Okinawa and Taiwan on to the Philippines. So, I see it more as a military contest rather than promotion of democracy and human rights. The U.S. containment policy continues today, and that’s how the Chinese see it.

Question: In your book you say that if China conquered Taiwan today it would be a Pyrrhic victory. Why is that?

Chan: In an invasion, Taiwan’s society would be shattered, and its economy would be destroyed. Also, the Chinese would lose the hearts and minds of the Taiwanese people. It would be a tough job for them to rule over a discontented, disaffected, angry populace. What do they have to gain by that?

As I say, Chinese leaders feel reasonably optimistic about the future, so why force your hand? Timing is everything. To paraphrase Otto von Bismark, Prussia’s chancellor, wise leaders try to hold on to God’s coattail to capitalize on an opportunity. The Chinese leaders have waited for over 75 years to reunify with Taiwan. They are patient, and they expect that ongoing trends would further increase their economic and military leverage over both Taiwan and the United States.

Question: You say that China is playing a ‘long game’ in Taiwan. What do you mean by that?

If war breaks out over Taiwan’s status, it would be to the great detriment of all sides—China, Taiwan and the U.S., should it decide to intervene, notes ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� researcher Steve Chan.

Chan: As a country, your international standing depends on your international power, which in turn is based on your domestic economic strength. It’s your domestic economic growth and health that is the foundation for international power. Of course, domestic elite cohesion and elite-mass unity also matter for undertaking effective foreign policy.

In the U.S., we’ve been eating our seed corn—mortgaging our future and piling on debt. In effect, we are shifting the burden of paying back this debt to future generations of Americans—those who have not been born or who are not yet old enough to vote. In effect, current voters are borrowing from future generations.

For their part, the Chinese are betting on not only their own increasing strength but also the Americans’ own self-destructive behavior. Will the U.S. become disillusioned and distracted, as with its hasty withdrawal from Vietnam and Afghanistan, or become entangled in another part of the world such as Venezuela, Iran and Ukraine?

Meanwhile, Taiwan is still next door to China, and the Taiwanese realize that the Chinese will continue to be their neighbor, their largest trade partner and the destination of most of their foreign direct investment. Americans, in contrast, always have the option of “going home.” These are the thoughts on the Taiwanese people’s mind, and that’s what the Chinese are betting on.

Question: The U.S. has a policy called ‘strategic ambiguity’ as it relates to Taiwan. What is that exactly, and how does it help or hurt U.S. interests?

Chan: First of all, the United States itself does not recognize Taiwan as an independent country. Period. Unlike Ukraine, which is recognized by nearly all the countries in the world as an independent, sovereign country. The United States has agreed in several communiques with China that there’s only one China—and that Taiwan is part of China.

The United States has an interest in opposing China attacking Taiwan militarily and it is also opposed to Taiwan declaring its formal independence. So, in effect, the U.S. policy is to maintain the status quo, to sustain Taiwan’s de facto separation from China.

In his new book Taiwan and the Danger of a Sino-American War, ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� scholar Steve Chan explores the tension between China's goal to reunify Taiwan—by force, if necessary—and continued U.S. support for Taiwan’s de facto independence, fueling fears of an armed clash between it and China.

The strategic ambiguity policy, in short, is something like this: We would decide later on whether or not we would fight, depending on the circumstances. In the meantime, we declare that we are opposed to China’s use of military force against Taiwan and, at the same time, any move by Taiwan to declare de jure independence. So, we’re keeping our policy ambiguous.

In that context, think of it like this: If someone threatens my daughter or my wife, people expect me to say, ‘I would definitely pummel you if you were to (attack) my daughter or wife,’ right? I would not say, ‘I may fight to you. I will keep my position ambiguous, so that I may fight you.’

People do not see that position as credible.

Recently, some former U.S. officials have promoted the idea of ‘strategic clarity’—to commit the U.S. definitely and publicly to Taiwan’s defense—a policy that is also fraught with many dangers.

Question: You say in your book that you could foresee a situation where the U.S. doesn’t fight for Taiwan if China invades. Given that the U.S. has supported Taiwan for seven decades and counting, how likely is that outcome?

Chan: The latest 2024 survey conducted by the Chicago Council of Global Affairs says that 65% of the American people are opposed to any military intervention on the part of the United States to fight for Taiwan. The majority are opposed to intervention; 35% are in support.

Now, there is usually a bump in public support for an administration's policy—whatever policy any administration adopts—at the onset of a crisis or war. It’s the so-called ‘Rally behind the flag syndrome.’

However, in six months, or in two years, when the conflict is not resolved in favor of the United States, we’ve seen that public support starts to decline precipitously. We’ve seen this with Vietnam and with Iraq and Afghanistan more recently. Some of these episodes have turned out very badly for the United States.

The tragedy of Vietnam and other conflicts stems from our exaggeration of national stake in a foreign conflict and over-estimation of our capability and stamina. We set up a test for ourselves, claiming that our intervention is a test of American will. We heighten the supposed stake we have in these places, and then when the end comes, the damage we have done to our reputation and credibility is all the more severe. We trap ourselves in our own rhetoric and self-defeating policies.

Question: If Taiwan hopes to avoid military clash with China, what might that look like? Perhaps like the former British colony of Hong Kong, which reunited with China in 1997 and which today theoretically operates under the ‘one country, two systems’ approach?

Chan: If they (Taiwan) negotiate with China now, maybe they can still get a reasonable deal. With the passage of time, their relative strength (compared to China) will continue to slip and they may not be able to count on continued U.S. support. Taiwan’s leverage is going to diminish over time.

But as long as Taiwan thinks that the U.S. has its back, they may still skate on very thin ice. Again, as some scholars have put it, it’s a matter of time—and China is playing the long game. The Chinese are betting that Americans will get distracted and tired, going to put out fires elsewhere, looking for other dragons to slay. The Taiwanese are also aware of this possibility.

"The United States has an interest in opposing China attacking Taiwan militarily and it is also opposed to Taiwan declaring its formal independence. So, in effect, the U.S. policy is to maintain the status quo, to sustain Taiwan’s de facto separation from China."

Question: Bottom line: Given the state of the world today, should we be more or less worried about the chance for a U.S.-China conflict over Taiwan?

Chan: So, a few quick points. No. 1: If there should be a war between the United States and China—and that’s a very big if—I believe Taiwan is the only flashpoint, the only reason for them to go to war. There are no other issues that are likely to get them into an armed conflict.

No. 2: I don’t see the Chinese initiating military actions against Taiwan today or in the near future, in the next, say, three, four, five or ten years.

No. 3: With that passage of time, China’s leverage will increase. Taiwan may very well end up succumbing to Chinese pressure—especially if the United States should prove unreliable.

No. 4: If hotheads in either Washington or Beijing come to power, then all bets are off. It very much depends on who will be the next president of the United States and the next president of China. I don’t expect war to break out today or tomorrow, but in the future, it matters who will be in charge. Also, it depends upon internal politics more than external politics, because wars can happen accidentally.

Question: If the president or a high-ranking government official asked you for a few foreign policy recommendations, what would you tell them?

Chan: Three words: Mind the gap. Watch your steps, that is. Avoid self-entrapment and self-inflicted wounds. Know when to place a big bet and when not to. I regret to say that, oftentimes, the United States has placed the wrong bet and backed the wrong horse: the Chinese Nationalists, the Saigon government, the Iraqi government and the government in Kabul, Afghanistan.

Make your domestic economy and domestic politics the priority over foreign policy. Get your house in order, economically and politically. That should be the No. 1 priority.

And understand the long-term and ongoing trends, so that you can go with the wind at your back rather than in your face. Finally, introspection and humility are important virtues in international as well as interpersonal relations.

Those are my simple pieces of advice for a prudent, wise foreign policy.

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Voters’ dislike of PAC donations cuts across political lines

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 03 Nov 2025 17:12:52 +0000

Voters’ dislike of PAC donations cuts across political lines Rachel Sauer Mon, 11/03/2025 - 10:12

Bradley Worrell

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Michelangelo Landgrave’s research finds Republicans and independents share Democrats’ concerns over corporate donations in federal elections

In a time when political consensus is difficult to find, one topic that cuts across partisan lines is American voters’ disdain for political action committee (PAC) money in federal elections.

That’s one of the key findings of research recently published in the journal Research and Politics, which was co-authored by Michelangelo Landgrave, a University of Colorado Boulder Department of Political Science assistant professor whose research focus includes campaign finance and public opinions on how it can be reformed. The paper was co-authored by Aubree Hardesty, one of Landgrave’s ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� postdoctoral fellows.

Pointing to a 2017 Washington Post story, Landgrave and his co-authors note in their paper that people surveyed for the article said money in politics and wealthy political donors are primary causes of political dysfunction.

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Michelangelo Landgrave and his research colleagues found that Republicans, Democrats and independents all share concerns over corporate donations in federal elections.

“What we found is that it’s not money itself that people oppose,” Landgrave clarifies. “People are fine with small donations—$5 or $10 from an individual. What they oppose are massive contributions from corporations that ordinary citizens simply can’t compete with.”

As the research paper notes, in the 2024 election cycle, PACs contributed about $5.6 billion to presidential and congressional campaigns, representing about 65% of total contributions.

This distinction—between small, individual donations and large, corporate checks—is central to understanding public opinion on campaign finance, Landgrave says, and voters are concerned that PACs have outsized influence with candidates.

Who’s giving the money?

Voters often view PACs as conduits from special interests, allowing corporations, unions and wealthy donors to channel significant funds into the political system. Landgrave says most PAC contributions come from older, wealthier and disproportionately white Americans. Asian Americans are an emerging group in this donor landscape, but Black and Latino communities remain underrepresented in campaign financing, he says.

“That raises equity concerns,” Landgrave says. “It’s not that older white voters shouldn’t have influence—they should—but so should African Americans, Latinos and especially younger voters. It’s not just about race; it’s about age, class and general representation.”

And while some PACs, such as the National Rifle Association or Emily’s List, are notably partisan or ideological, many are more pragmatic than political, Landgrave says. Companies such as Walmart and McDonald’s often contribute to both Republican and Democratic campaigns—hedging their bets to maintain influence regardless of which party wins, he notes.

Public attitudes: a bipartisan dislike

As the researchers surveyed voters, Landgrave says one of the biggest surprises was the lack of a stark partisan divide on the issue of PAC donations.

“Starting this project, we assumed that there was going to be major partisan differences in public opinion. We assumed that Democrats—much more than Republicans—would be much more concerned about the amount of money in American politics,” he says. “But one of our big findings was that Democrats and Republicans, and also independents, want their politicians to not be accepting this PAC money.”

Again, the underlying concern is that PACs have outsized influence with politicians in return for their contributions, because those donations tend to be larger than those of individual donors, Landgrave says. He notes that previous research has found that less than 1% of Americans give more than $200 in political contributions in a given year. (For their part, PACs can contribute up to $3,500 per candidate.)

“How much influence they (PACs) actually get for their contributions is a subject for debate, but the perception by voters is that it really undermines the democratic values that we have,” Landgrave says. “The underlying concern voters have is that everyone should be able to give, but the amount should be constrained enough that, for example, one person making six figures is not able to make much bigger donations than the guy making $40,000 or $20,000 a year.”

"We assumed that Democrats—much more than Republicans—would be much more concerned about the amount of money in American politics. But one of our big findings was that Democrats and Republicans, and also independents, want their politicians to not be accepting this PAC money,” says ��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� researcher Michelangelo Landgrave.

The study’s findings suggest that swearing off PAC donations can be a winning strategy for Republicans and independents as well as Democrats, Landgrave says.

“While Republicans at the national level have not embraced this idea, these findings lead me to believe that an enterprising Republican candidate could make their name, especially at the primary level, by keeping their same policy positions, but really presenting themselves as this anti-corporate, populist individual,” he says.

Risks and rewards of swearing off PAC money

In recent U.S. election cycles, some candidates have made headlines by vowing not to accept PAC donations, including U.S. Sen. Elizabeth Warren, D-Massachusetts, who during her 2020 campaign said she “swore off PAC money to make a statement.” She was not the only one.

Landgrave’s notes in his paper that 44 candidates (43 Democrats and one Republican) refused PAC money during the 2020 election cycle.

Landgrave says politicians swearing off PAC contributions is a trend that has gained momentum since the mid-2010s, mirroring earlier political reform efforts dating back to the Progressive Era of the late 1890s to early 1920s, when reformers sought to address political corruption that extended to buying political offices.

Today, candidates such as Bernie Saunders, D-Vermont, have successfully built brand identities around refusing corporate donations, drawing support even from those who may not fully align with their policy platforms, Landgrave says.

His research suggests voters place as much weight on a candidate’s campaign finance stance as they do on hot-button issues such as gun control.

“That’s a big deal,” he says. “Gun control is one of the most polarizing, mobilizing issues in U.S. politics. If a candidate’s position on PAC money can mobilize voters to a similar degree, that’s a serious strategic advantage.”

Show me the (small) money

Still, given how astronomically expensive modern federal election campaigns have become, is swearing off PAC money viable moving forward?

Yes, but with caveats, Landgrave says.

He references an earlier paper by one of his co-authors that found that rejecting PAC money can be a powerful campaign message—especially when it’s clearly communicated to voters. That earlier paper noted that candidates who reject PAC money see a surge in small-dollar donations. While those contributions do not fully replace corporate funds, Landgrave says they often make up 70 to 80% of the shortfall.

“It’s a significant substitution effect,” he says. “You lose $1 million from PACs but you might get $700,000 to $800,000 from small donors instead.”

However, Landgrave says this model may not scale indefinitely.

“Right now, if you are the sort of candidate who swears off big corporate influence money, there’s enough donors that care about that to compensate you to a degree,” he says. “What’s unclear is what happens at scale. If every candidate rejected PAC contributions, would enough people change culturally to make up what they’re losing? If there’s only a few thousand people who care about this and do this, it won’t work if everyone rejects the money.”

What do voters actually know?

A common critique of public opinion surveys is that voters don’t really understand the issues they’re being asked about. But Landgrave’s research challenges that assumption when it comes to campaign financing.

“Right now, if you are the sort of candidate who swears off big corporate influence money, there’s enough donors that care about that to compensate you to a degree.”

“We’ve done follow-up work on public knowledge,” he says. “And while voters don’t ace these quizzes, they perform reasonably well. For instance, many people guess that the maximum federal contribution limit is around $3,000. The correct number is $3,500, so they’re close.

Americans surprisingly know the general rules. Maybe not all of the details, but they know more than we probably think.”

In short, the average voter may not be a political scientist, but they understand enough to form meaningful opinions—and increasingly, those opinions lean toward curbing corporate influence in elections, Landgrave says.

Studying union PACs and cultural change

Landgrave says his research on political action committees and campaign finance are ongoing. His next line of research looks at how voters view union-backed PACs, which are structured similarly but are rooted in worker representation.

Initial findings are surprising, he says.

“Americans seem to be OK with union PACs. And what’s even more surprising—so are Republicans. It’s preliminary, but it suggests people view unions differently, perhaps because they’re perceived as bottom-up organizations, rather than top-down like corporations.”

Meanwhile, looking ahead, Landgrave has another topic he would like to pursue regarding PACs and campaigns.

“In addition to the union angle, I would definitely be interested in seeing young Americans’ attitudes toward money in politics,” he says. “I can tell you that, just talking with my undergrad students, they seem even more skeptical of corporate money in politics than previous generations. They’re not anti-money—they’re fine with small donations—but they’re deeply opposed to corporate influence.”

However, Landgrave is skeptical that Congress might one day pass sweeping reform to limit or eliminate PAC donations.

“I don’t see that happening at the federal level,” he says. “The people who reach Congress are, by and large, products of the existing system.”

Instead, he sees more potential for state-level reforms, through voter pressure and ballot initiatives that limit PAC influence—a strategy that he says echoes earlier populist movements, particularly in the Plains and Rocky Mountain regions.

“Our campaign finance system isn’t set in stone,” Landgrave says. “Other countries do it differently. We could, too—if we decided that’s what we want.”

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��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Michelangelo Landgrave’s research finds Republicans and independents share Democrats’ concerns over corporate donations in federal elections.

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Scholar dissects voter perceptions of transnational politics

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 14 Aug 2025 21:24:57 +0000

Scholar dissects voter perceptions of transnational politics Rachel Sauer Thu, 08/14/2025 - 15:24

Bradley Worrell

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� political scientist Jeffrey Nonnemacher asserts that Western European national political parties use their affiliations with party families to signal their own political viewpoints

In the 2013 German national elections, the upstart political party Alternative for Germany (AfD) failed to gain a single seat in parliament. Just four years later, the AfD won 97 seats and became the third-largest political party in Germany.

The AfD made its historic inroads in the 2017 German elections at the same time it transformed itself from a Euroskeptic but relatively moderate party into a political movement that became much more closely aligned with radical right parties in the rest of Western Europe, says Jeffrey Nonnemacher, an assistant teaching professor with the University of Colorado Boulder International Affairs Program, whose research focus is political parties and elections.

In particular, Nonnemacher points to a decision by AfD’s party leader, Frauke Petry, in 2017 to host radical right leaders from across Europe, including Marine Le Pen with the French National Rally, Geert Wilders of the Dutch Party for Freedom and Matteo Salvini of Italy’s Northern League. That decision effectively telegraphed to voters the party’s shift to the right and signaled its embrace of the transnational radical right party label, says Nonnemacher, who recently published a paper in the British Journal of Political Science about voter perceptions of transnational politics.

��Ҵ�ý�ƽ�� scholar Jeffrey Nonnemacher is an assistant teaching professor in the International Affairs Program and the Arts and Sciences Honors Program and a lecturer in the Department of Political Science.

“My goal with this paper is to tackle the question of: Do voters care if the AfD’s leadership is spending a lot of time with France’s Marine Le Pen and the National Rally? Are voters getting some sort of information from the party family label attached to a party and the party’s relationship with that label?” he explains. In his paper, Nonnemacher contends that political parties in Western Europe are responsive to politics outside their home country—and that strategic choices to embrace a larger party family label, such as radical right in the case of AfD, do influence how parties are perceived by a country’s voters.

In a recent conversation with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine, Nonnemacher emphasized that a political party that embraces the party family signifies its commitment to the larger ideological goals associated with the party family, while parties that push back and work to distance themselves from their sister parties from other countries signal that they may not be credible champions for core issues. His answers have been lightly edited for style and clarity.

Question: Can you define what constitutes a transnational party family?

Nonnemacher: In political science—especially in comparative politics—one of the goals is to think about the ways we can compare political outcomes. One of the ways we do this is by looking at these so-called party families. These are basically categorizations of parties based upon shared histories, shared ideology and common networks of activists and leaders.

There are a whole host of party families. The largest families in Europe are the Social Democrats, which is your center-left, working-class parties, and the Conservatives, which are your traditional center-right parties. You’ve also got your Green parties, which are your environmental parties, among many other families.

These party families are now much more useful than what academics created them for, which was tools for comparisons. Today, parties within similar party families tend to behave the same, learn from each other and form groups that transcend national boundaries based upon shared ideologies.

Question: What motivated you to explore the topic of transnational parties as a source of voter perceptions?

Nonnemacher: The academic answer is that I felt there was a gap there. We know a lot about how voters in Europe today are concerned about integration and thinking about politics beyond their own borders. But we had not yet, as academics, come to terms with the consequences of this, for how they view their parties and the links between what information they’re getting and their political parties. That was the academic motivation.

The more topical answer was the rise of the radical right parties in these various countries and how these parties seemed to be learning from each other, copying each other and celebrating each other’s victories in a way that we hadn’t really seen before. You have Hungary’s Victor Orbán hosting CPAC (the U.S.-based Conservative Political Action Conference), and you have Marine Le Pen in France having these big rallies with other radical right leaders.

Hungary’s Victor Orbán hosts CPAC (the U.S.-based Conservative Political Action Conference). (Photo: Elkes Andor/Wikimedia Commons)

My motivation was trying to understand the consequences of this seeminginternationalization of right party politics especially, but also party politics more generally.

Question: What are some specific reasons why parties might choose to embrace a transnational party?

Nonnemacher: The argument I make in the paper is very much an electoral argument. Parties win elections when voters know what they stand for. That’s one of the big theories that we have about party competition, is that parties need to distinguish themselves from their competitors and be able to communicate to voters what they believe.

If a voter can’t tell the difference between one party and another, they’re unlikely to support them. And if a voter doesn’t know where the party stands, then they don’t know if they’re going to get what they want out of the party. So, parties need to distinguish themselves. They need to signal to voters what their positions are.

One of the motivations here for parties is: This label tells voters where I stand. If I’m seen alongside other Social Democrats, I can kind of bolster my credentials on being a Social Democratic Party.

The other electoral motivation is parties want to win elections, and they look to who won and say, ‘We should copy that.’ In 2021, when the Social Democrats won in Germany, Social Democratic parties across Europe all immediatelylooked to Germany and said, ‘What did they do? How did they win this election? What can we do to kind of copy that?’

Question: So, it’s not just radical right parties learning from radical right parties in other countries, but also leftist and centrist parties learning from their transnational sister parties?

Nonnemacher: Yes. One of the things I wanted to do in this paper was to make the case that it’s not just the radical right that’s doing this and benefitting from it. It’s the British Labour Party taking lessons from Germany’s Social Democrats, for example.

Green parties are an especially interesting transnational group, because inherently, they see fighting for the environment as a global issue. They view international cooperation and international learning as core to solving the problems that they are running on. Notably, almost all of them have ‘green’ in their name and almost all of them have the sunflower as their logo.

Question: What makes Germany’s AfD party a particularly noteworthy example of a national party forming associations with like-minded parties in Western Europe?

Nonnemacher: There’s probably two reasons for that. One is they exploded in Germany in terms of growing support from 2013 to 2017; the other is that by 2017, the radical right in Europe had exploded. There’s just a lot more attention on the far right, and it’s Germany, so whenever the far right does anything in Germany, people notice.

The AfD is an interesting case, because in 2013 they were not the far-right party that they are today. They have had a big transformation in the last 10 to 12 years. In 2013, they were really just angry about the European Union and the Euro crisis, and with Germany having to bail out the rest of the European Union. They were a Euroskeptic party first and foremost. They were anti-immigrant, but it wasn’t their main focus.

France's Marine Le Pen of the French National Rally has helped lead a far-right shift, particularly on immigration, in Europen politics. (Photo: Jérémy-Günther-Heinz Jähnick/Wikimedia Commons)

They had a disappointing election in 2013, where they barely missed out on getting seats in the parliament.Then by 2017, they shifted dramatically to the right on immigration. They really started to copy France’s Le Pen and other prominent, far-right leaders in Europe tobe this anti-immigrant party, just like the rest of these radical right parties, and that worked out really well for them. In 2017, they became the third-largest party in parliament, so it was a quite successful strategy for them.

By the elections in 2021, they plateaued a little bit, and then in February this year they became the second largest party in the Bundestag (the German parliament), and they’ve come to be embraced by the broader far-right movement.

Question: Why might a national party choose to distance itself from a sister party?

Nonnemacher: There are two family labels where this generally applies. The first is the radical right—or at least that was the case in the past—where if you were seen as too close to the radical right you were punished, because there was a lot of stigmas around being affiliated with that ideology.

With the AfD example, when they made the transition to embrace more radical right principals from other countries and hosted the rally with Le Pen, Wilders and Salvini to signal the AfD’s embrace of transnational radical right parties, this was incredibly controversial, both inside and outside of the party. It was a delicate balance, because there were some in the party who were very nervous that if they embraced the radical right movement they could face a backlash, because Germans are very conscious of their history. So, 10 years ago there was more hesitation about embracing their fellow party members abroad.

We see similar patterns on the left, especially when it comes to communism. Parties on the radical left are generally hesitant to embrace communists or things that look like communism because of the similar kinds of stigmas around that that exist in western and especially eastern Europe.

Question: Do you think voters are consciously recognizing these European family party associations and how their own parties are relating to sister transnational parties, or is it happening at a subconscious level?

Nonnemacher: We know from political psychology that voters rely on heuristics for a lot of things. So, just hearing the label—that a particular party is a radical right party, for instance, triggers for voters a set of assumptions about what a party stands for and what it’s leaders believe and what they are advocating for.

But I also believe that there is something much more active going on here, where voters start to make those kinds of connections between the party and the label and where voters deliberate what those labels mean in relation to their own politics.

Question: If a national party is not in alignment with its transnational party family on foundational ideological issues, does it cause voter distrust or just confusion?

Nonnemacher: I think it’s a bit of both. Definitely it causes confusion, because if you’re watching the news and you’re being told that Marine Le Pen is a radical right politician, but then let’s say you hear she is endorsing letting more immigrants into (Europe), you’re going to say, ‘Wait a minute; that doesn’t make any sense. How is she radical right, then?’

It also probably leads to distrust. If you see yourself as a Social Democratic voter and you believe in this center-left Social Democratic vision for Europe, but your Social Democratic politician is talking about de-regulating markets and shrinking the state, that’s probably going to make you say, ‘He’s not a Social Democrat. I don’t trust him to be an advocate for my goals.’

Question: Your paper focused a transnational politics in Western Europe. Do you think the paper’s findings have any relevance for the United States?

"Understanding how voters perceive their parties is a huge part of what makes democracies work. If voters don’t know what their parties are fighting for and don’t know where their parties stand, they check out."

Nonnemacher: I don’t know how well the paper’s findings travel to the United States. We have a very strong two-party system that doesn’t map as neatly to the multi-party competition in European elections. That being said, I think if we look at parties in the United States as factions of various ideological groups, we can see green factions of the Democratic Party, radical right and center-right Christian democratic factions of the Republican Party. I think for activists and people inside these parties, it matters a lot what kind of broader ideological movements that they are associated with are doing.

I’m skeptical that voters will derive the same utility, just because the labels don’t fit as neatly, and (American voters) tend to think we’re unique in our politics as voters, so we don’t tend to look abroad for political inspiration.

Question: Anything else relating to Western European voters and their perceptions of their political parties and transnational parties that you think is important to share?

Nonnemacher: I think understanding how voters perceive their parties is a huge part of what makes democracies work. If voters don’t know what their parties are fighting for and don’t know where their parties stand, they check out; they disengage, and we’ve seen that they become less satisfied with democracy.

I think anything that parties can do to really communicate their positions to voters and reaffirm for voters that they areserious about accomplishing their goals is important, because parties across Europe and the United States are having a credibility crisis right now.

What my paper does is highlight one such way that parties can go about communicating to voters what they stand for, which has a whole host of implications to address some of the big problems facing Western democracies today.

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