Public trust in government is near historic lows. Only about one in five Americans say they trust Washington to do the right thing “most of the time.” The cynicism is earned: politics has become a theater of outrage, more concerned with sound bites and partisan victory than with governing. In most professions, this kind of behavior would be unthinkable. If an employee refused to collaborate, dismissed half their clients, and spent their days chasing attention instead of doing their work, they wouldn’t last long. Sadly, this is what passes for leadership in much of American politics.
America already has more than enough performers chasing clicks. What it needs are politicians who treat public service with seriousness—without the antics, division, or hysteria. Citizens are not only constituents; we are also their employers. That gives us both the right and the responsibility to demand a baseline of professionalism. Politicians are hired by voters, paid by taxpayers, and trusted to deliver results. That should never be a radical expectation.
The politician America needs now would start by listening. Not the performative listening of a campaign stop, but genuine engagement: asking questions, sitting with discomfort, acknowledging complexity. In any other workplace, refusing to listen would be considered incompetence. In politics, it has somehow become strategy. But without listening, there is no understanding; and without understanding, policymaking becomes empty theater.
Equally important, the ideal leader would serve all constituents, not just a base of reliable voters. A mayor doesn’t get to plow only the streets of neighborhoods that supported her. A governor doesn’t get to fund only the schools in politically friendly counties. Representation is not selective—it is total. This seems obvious in principle, but in practice it has been abandoned, replaced by a cynical calculus that rewards division. A serious politician would resist that temptation, because their obligation is to the public as a whole.
Humility is another quality in short supply. Our politics rewards certainty and bravado, but the problems facing the country—climate change, inequality, education, unemployment, gun violence, immigration, the cost of living, bureaucracy, health care—are not problems you can shout into submission. They require expertise, evidence, and iteration. In most workplaces, admitting mistakes and asking questions is a sign of competence, not weakness. Yet in Washington, too many leaders double down on failure to avoid the appearance of retreat or the admission of a mistake. A more capable politician would embrace humility as a strength: the willingness to learn, to consult experts, to change course when the facts demand it.
Perhaps the most urgent change would be a shift in priorities. Too many decisions are shaped not by what would work but by what might look good in the next campaign ad. It is governing as branding, and it leaves citizens paying the price. The right politician would be willing to spend political capital—to risk reelection—if it meant solving problems. After all, in any other job, neglecting your responsibilities because you were preoccupied with landing your next position would be grounds for dismissal. Politics should be no exception.
Engaging the opposition is part of this work. In most professions, collaboration across differences is not optional; it is the only way to make progress. Yet in Washington, compromise has been rebranded as betrayal. The politician America needs now would reject that framing. They would treat opponents not as enemies, but as colleagues with different constituencies and perspectives. It’s worth remembering that nearly every major achievement in American political history—from civil rights legislation to Medicare—was built on bipartisan coalitions. That is not weakness; it is governance.
Finally, this leader would resist outrage as a governing strategy. Outrage generates clicks, donations, and television hits, but it corrodes public trust. It thrives on caricature, not complexity. Real leadership would mean focusing on facts, results, and measurable outcomes: what works, not what wins. Imagine a politics where town halls were forums for genuine dialogue rather than campaign theater; where leaders said, “Thank you for sharing your perspective. I will give it considerable thought as I make a decision on how to vote on the legislation. It is helpful for me to hear contrarian views.” That is not idealism. It is simply the standard we would apply in any workplace.
The question, then, is not whether such politicians exist—they do—but whether citizens will demand them. Politicians are responsive to constituents. They mirror the culture that elects them. If voters reward anger and spectacle, they will deliver more of it. If voters reward substance, empathy, and competence, they will adjust. In the end, better politicians require better expectations from the public.
The politician America needs now is not a savior or a celebrity. They are not the loudest voice in the room. They are someone who treats politics as a job of service, not self-preservation. They listen, learn, compromise, and govern with humility. And they measure success not by the volume of applause but by results that improve the lives of everyone they were elected to represent.
America needs a politician willing to say: “I will ground every decision in facts. I will listen respectfully to opposing views. I will put the people I represent above my own interests or the pursuit of re-election. I will be honest. I will work tirelessly to solve problems and strive to be someone worthy of your respect. And when I make mistakes, I will learn from them.”
A leader like this could bring out the best in our society, help write a new American story, and leave behind lasting change. In the process, they might even keep their job and earn a promotion.
Andrew Kirschner is the founder of Epic Walking Tours in New York City. He leads tours that explore the history of the civil rights, immigration, animal rights, women’s suffrage, labor rights, and LGBTQ+ movements.

Thank you so much for your intelligent persistence. We need you!