The Demagogue’s Game: How the Right’s False Equivalency Corrupts the Public Discourse
There is a malignancy in the political landscape of the United States, one that has given rise to a form of demagoguery that preys on the fears and frustrations of a disillusioned public. Figures like Donald Trump, Tucker Carlson, Marjorie Taylor Greene, and Ben Shapiro have built platforms not on reasoned discourse but on emotional manipulation and tribalism. They rely on a cynical and dishonest tactic—one that posits a false equivalency between the left and the right, as though the two are equally guilty of radicalism and dishonesty. This is not merely wrong; it is dangerous.
But to criticize the demagogic right with integrity, one must also acknowledge the excesses on the left. The Black Lives Matter movement, for example, arose from a just and long overdue cause: the pursuit of racial equality and justice. Yet the violent riots that occurred in several cities during these protests must be condemned. Destruction and chaos, no matter the cause, undermine the legitimacy of the pursuit of justice. However, let’s be clear—those riots do not diminish the underlying grievance of systemic racism, nor do they approach the existential threat posed by conspiracy movements like QAnon or the violent insurrection at the U.S. Capitol on January 6th. To suggest otherwise is a sleight of hand, a pernicious false equivalency.
Similarly, the left has, at times, flirted with orthodoxy on issues like gender, where some activists have gone so far as to deny the biological reality of sex in favor of a radical, one-size-fits-all view of gender identity. We can acknowledge the need for dignity and rights for transgender individuals without sacrificing reason or biology. To suggest that any discussion about the nuances of gender and sex is inherently transphobic is itself an intellectual surrender. These flaws, however, must be viewed in context—they are excesses of thought, not a systemic detachment from reality itself.
What truly sets the demagogic right apart is its insatiable appetite for conspiracy and the low quality thinking that underlies it. Consider Tucker Carlson, a man who has abandoned all pretense of rational discourse in favor of promoting fringe ideas. Carlson’s platform is now a breeding ground for every outlandish theory imaginable—from casting doubt on the 2020 election to amplifying anti-vaccine conspiracies and, most recently, giving airtime to a pseudo-historian who argues, incredibly, that “”Hitler was the good guy and Churchill the villain.””This descent into conspiratorial madness speaks to the fundamentally unhinged nature of modern right-wing discourse.
The sheer number of conspiracies is staggering, and yet, for figures like Carlson, Alex Jones, and the ever-evolving cast of right-wing pundits, there is no limit to how far they will go. There is no conspiracy too outrageous, no narrative too dangerous or stupid. What matters is not the truth, but the emotional high of outrage and victimhood that these theories deliver to their audience. This addiction to conspiracy is not just intellectually dishonest; it is a psychological affliction, one that feeds off a deep-seated paranoia and distrust in institutions.
Even more predictably, the right-wing pundit class has turned on itself. Take, for example, Ben Shapiro—once a darling of conservative circles, but now increasingly at odds with figures like Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens. Shapiro has been criticized for his more measured, though still conservative, takes on foreign policy as it relates to his defense of Israel and the extent to which conspiracy theories have consumed the right. Owens, a purveyor of inflammatory rhetoric, has similarly fallen out with Shapiro over her increasingly erratic views on Israel and Palestine. This infighting isn’t merely a political disagreement—it’s symptomatic of a deeper fracture, one driven by competing egos and a craving for relevance in a media ecosystem built on outrage and sensationalism. One must inevitably question the personal psychology—and, by extension, the intellectual quality—that flows from such disordered minds.
To understand the rise of these demagogues, one must consider the psychological vulnerabilities that underpin their rhetoric. Figures like Trump, Carlson, Owens, and even Shapiro exhibit a remarkable hostility and anger, often bordering on derangement. This is not simply a matter of political disagreement; it is indicative of deeper emotional and psychological issues. Their bombastic anger, their relentless attacks on perceived enemies, and their inability to tolerate dissent all point to individuals who are not simply misguided, but emotionally compromised. There is a brittleness to their demeanor, a fragility that is masked by bravado and bluster.
We see this in the way they frame every disagreement as an existential threat, every opponent as an enemy of civilization. This paranoid worldview is not the product of a healthy mind; it is the product of a psyche consumed by fear, anger, and insecurity. The anger and hostility that pour out of their mouths are not mere rhetorical tools; they are manifestations of deeper psychological unrest. It is no surprise that many of these individuals—particularly those who have risen to prominence during the Trump era—seem to embrace authoritarianism, to crave the power and control that they accuse the left of seeking.
But what makes this psychological dimension even more dangerous is how it appeals to the audience. The emotional manipulation practiced by these demagogues taps into the vulnerabilities of their viewers and followers, creating a feedback loop of fear and anger. It is no accident that Trump’s most loyal supporters are often those who feel disillusioned, betrayed, and left behind by the system. Figures like Carlson and Owens amplify that sense of grievance, offering simplistic explanations and a convenient set of enemies to blame.
This brings us back to the central peril: the grotesque false equivalency that these demagogues employ to excuse their extremism. In Trumpistan, every aspect of political discourse is drenched in a toxic blend of deceit and hysteria: the election was rigged, the debates were rigged, every charge and conviction is a witch hunt, and all opposition is painted as Marxist radicalism. The refusal to peacefully transfer power, the endorsement of violent groups like the Proud Boys, and the endless stream of conspiracy theories—all serve to create a moral fog that obscures the stark realities at hand. Yes, the left has its own flaws, and there are important debates to be had about free speech, activism, and government roles. But to suggest that these debates are in any way comparable to the rise of white nationalism, the denial of scientific facts, or the violent insurrection of January 6th is not only intellectually dishonest but morally bankrupt.
There is no left-wing equivalent of QAnon, no progressive version of the belief that Donald Trump is secretly fighting a satanic cabal of pedophiles. There is no liberal equivalent of a mob storming the Capitol to overturn a democratic election. And while the left certainly has its own internal divisions, they pale in comparison to the fratricidal warfare we now see on the right, where the likes of Carlson, Owens, and Shapiro tear each other apart in their scramble for influence.
It is time to reject the false equivalence that these demagogues perpetuate. We must call out the left when it goes too far, when it undermines its own cause with excess or orthodoxy. But we must also be clear: the threat posed by the far-right demagogues is of a different order of magnitude. They do not simply challenge norms; they seek to dismantle them. They do not simply question institutions; they encourage their followers to destroy them. And they do so with a recklessness and a hostility that is not born of genuine conviction, but of psychological fragility and emotional manipulation.
The fight against these demagogues is not just political; it is a battle for the very soul of public discourse. We must not allow them to succeed.