The Impact of Divisive Politics and the Relentless Election Cycles

“The world feels like a binfire. and I don’t know what my part in putting it out is” A quote from someone I’m working with in counselling just now that summarises an overall feeling of doom and hopelessness that surrounds the US election.

“Our current politics is making it difficult for you to find peace.” A quote back from me, trying to acknowledge the distress that is caused by divisive politics and a society where every election feels more consequential, more important, than the last.

Political divisiveness - and the injustices that we feel our politics is creating - isn’t just limited to awkwardness at work or disagreements at the dinner table. Our politics brings an unyielding pressure, affecting us deeply. American Psychological Association (APA) surveys from recent election cycles found that around 68% of Americans felt the 2020 election was a major source of stress. This kind of political strain doesn’t simply disappear after the votes are tallied; it lingers, a low hum of tension that permeates daily life.

Where politics become highly polarised, we can feel like we are in the middle of a bitter conflict despite not saying a word. Studies in Political Psychology have described this as “political stress syndrome,” where individuals feel helpless or frustrated in response to constant political conflict. The 24/7 news cycle and frequent social media notifications can worsen these feelings. Research suggests that such stress can manifest in symptoms typically associated with anxiety and depression, from mood swings to trouble sleeping. When political issues feel personal, such as those impacting rights or identity (two things that have been forced back into then public discourse) people experience stress at a deeper, more emotional level.

For some of the people I'm working with, this heightened political tension is a backdrop of life. Day-to-day struggles, from financial worries to personal relationships, are hard enough - the ongoing political divide adds a layer of dread to these already present challenges. I sometimes hear people express a fatalistic view of society, overwhelmed by what seems like an unending series of crises and personal disappointments. I’ve found myself expressing similar views to friends and to colleagues in campaigning spaces.

Over the last two years, I've been on research trips to different states I'm America to understand what it is like for people who believe in justice and social equality where their government does not. In many ways, I thought they were constantly and valiantly bracing for impact, unsure of what the next upheaval will be. I was inspired, however, by the amount of collaboration and determination that I saw. From the LGBTQ Affirming school in Alabama to those supporting women’s health autonomy in South Carolina.

It’s hard in circumstances that are about political structures to bring the conversation back to how our own actions could be contributing to how we feel. I strongly believe that the therapeutic thing is examining what we’re doing and what’s happening that things impact us so deeply - I also know that sometimes that the only thing that feels possible is to throw our hands up and go “This is hellish”.

Many of us, including me are, of course, adding fuel to the fire in the way we consume political content on social media. Relentlessly checking news websites and refreshing social media feeds, waiting for that next piece of information for reasons we haven't quite engaged with.

Platforms like X and Facebook may have been originally intended to connect people, yet they now are designed to deepen the wedge between us. Social media algorithms amplify divisive content because it increases engagement, but this engagement frequently leads to heightened anxiety and even polarization. According to recent studies, people feel compelled to stay “informed,” but this need often turns into a loop of consuming distressing, polarised content without end. We know this, and it doesn’t stop us.

X, once seen as a neutral “town square” for global discourse, has strayed far from impartiality. Under its current owner, who publicly supports one political candidate and even hints at a future government role, the platform has shifted from open dialogue to a biased arena. This alignment not only compromises its credibility but also alienates users seeking balanced discussion. What was meant to foster diverse voices now serves as a powerful tool for political influence and the erosion of public trust. We know this, and it doesn’t stop us.

Recognising that political tension impacts how we feel is the first step in to thinking about what we want to do about it.

No one I work with has found the key to unburdening themselves of this worry. Nor have I.

Instead, I’m learning from people who are prioritising activities that provide genuine connection and joy. This doesn’t mean ignoring important issues, but rather engaging with them in a way that doesn’t consume all our mental energy. I’ve dropped down from four American political podcasts a week to two - committing that time to listening to music instead.

Peace isn’t easy to find, but even small choices—like turning down the noise and embracing real connections—can help. In a divided world, thinking about what we engage with and what we don’t can be an act of powerful resistance.

Jamie Kinlochan