Despite being the liberal hub of the state, Iowa City talked me off of that theoretical ledge.

Coming from an incredibly rural town deep in the conservative South, most of my knowledge of what liberalism looked like came from the internet, as the conservative environment around me didn’t offer much but anger and repression.

Between Tumblr, YouTube and Twitter, I found like-minded people and those who shared identities that were glaringly not present in my real life — people of color, people of a variety of backgrounds and ethnicities, and queer individuals. It was complete happenstance that the university I ultimately ended up attending was the politically progressive island in the red ocean of Iowa that held all that I was missing. It was like Twitter in real life.

I knew nothing about Iowa City until I got here, and I was quite surprised a progressive community was so easy to find. In this past November’s election, where President Trump would clearly win the state, even 68 percent of Johnson County still voted for Kamala Harris — not to mention Nikki Haley winning the Republican Primary.

I attended a few protests and demonstrations, which I had never done before, but it was Mike Pence’s visit to campus in the fall of 2021 that changed my oasis-like perception of Iowa City.

As with every YAF event, the guest speaker attracted a lot of backlash in the weeks before his visit. While those who were fervently against his presence on campus chalked “fascist,” “racist,” and “homophobe” on the Pentacrest, I quietly thought it would be pretty cool to hear a former vice president speak.

The event was alright. He didn’t say anything that radical or new and certainly didn’t change my mind. The protesters outside, however, did change my perception of the progressivism I was embracing.

Outside the building, the protest crowd had blocked off the steps of the IMU, forcing the audience to file out through the handicap ramp. Holding up signs, posters, and phone cameras at the crowd slowly shuffling out, the protest had clearly shifted target from Mike Pence’s presence to the audience that went to listen. Being on the receiving end of their anger left me conflicted; I thought the whole thing was silly despite being in political agreement with them. The whole thing was a physical manifestation of Twitter interactions — heated and ultimately counterproductive.

This experience made me reconsider the environment I was enjoying in Iowa City. Although it felt good, was it doing any good? Were people’s displays of progressive politics actually meant to change minds, or did they just express inner-angst while driving other like-minded people away?

Had I been leaning into a movement that fundamentally lacked substance?

Since the 2024 election, much of the country is asking the same question. How could the Democratic party — the entity representing progressive politics — take such a significant loss after what looked like such promising chances online and in national polls?

Since November, there have been countless analyses of why the Democratic party lost. One couldn’t cover all the specific theories of the election results, but most boil down to the Democratic party just not being compelling.

The party’s election campaign relied heavily on social media and online interaction for support. Despite podcast campaigning, celebrity endorsements, and taking advantage of meme culture, the embrace of Kamala Harris online didn’t translate to the polls. I suppose Democrats forgot online culture generally does not translate well to real-life spaces.

Since then, the leftist public has been more seriously contemplating major party reforms.

Even people who consider themselves “chronically online” acknowledge that the internet and real life are two separate worlds. Both inform one another, but behavior on social media fails to be suitable for life offline.

There’s infighting for fun. It’s “mentally ill” for jokes. It’s as un-serious as the culture. But those expressions can hide behind the safety of an account that can always be deleted. But offline, it’s mostly silly and often mean. Most of what happens online would not be said or done so boldly in real life. What should happen more often is finding the most effective way to translate between the two, and that starts at the individual level.

Anyone with a healthy dose of internet culture should ponder how it manifests offline and ask if it’s enough.

The internet is one of the best things that could have happened to the political left. By fostering the global exchange of ideas, the internet is the leading resource for shaping the world we want to see. We shouldn’t let it plague or be plagued by the distasteful behaviors it often fosters.

I look back at that Pence protest crowd and now just see that those people were probably also chronically online, with their actions making sense in an internet context.

All it takes is a bit of personal initiative to chip away at letting the internet consume real-life.

And in the current political climate, we know what’s at stake.