If one thing will define 2026, it’ll be which side’s arguments are powerful enough to win.

An election year is all about making arguments. For or against voting at all, for or against re-electing the people currently in power. For or against principles and policies that affect our everyday life, which become persuasive shortcuts for helping people determine which politicians are good and which are bad, who is right and who is wrong.

Of course, many of us will not only hear those arguments, we’ll be making them. (Or funding them.) Every week will bring a new outrage, prompting us to produce an argument about why no one should listen to “them” and everyone should listen to “us.”

Sometimes, the most distilled version of an argument is one simple word: a name we call someone in the hopes of instantly elevating or disqualifying them—like “fascist” or “hypocrite.” Does name-calling work? Do the arguments behind them work? Do they work for us?

In November, we’ll get something of a verdict about who is best for the country. It won’t be based on evidence. It will be about which arguments worked—and whose infrastructure of argument-making was most effective. One thing we should know by now: it’ll be narrative might over moral right.

I’ve spent much of my career interrogating which arguments are effective and which just make us feel good, and doing the work of creating the most effective arguments possible. Our side often doesn’t understand why a given argument is a failure until it’s too late—we’ve already lost people. But given the stakes this year, we need to see around corners rather than be surprised by what we find there. We can’t afford to repeat past mistakes.

So throughout the year, I’ll offer my thoughts about arguments that work—and don’t.

Today, I am offering a perspective on an argument liberals love to make, but is rarely effective: arguing that hypocrisy is a deal-breaker for politicians. That argument usually fails to persuade people, even if it feels righteous and powerful.

We’re seeing the most cruel hypocrisies play out, with untold costs to people’s lives, and yet we’re stuck wondering why pointing out those contradictions and/or trying to brand people as hypocrites doesn’t change people’s minds. What should we do?

When It Works

The charge of hypocrisy can work, when it’s made by a deeply respected member of a group against another member of that same group. Charges of hypocrisy from “outsiders” rarely have an effect because one usually can only betray one’s own people, not their opponents or people they don’t even claim to stand for. The call needs to come from inside the house.

When white nationalists said that something I was doing to advance racial equity was hypocritical, it had no effect on me at all—not on my decisions or our followers. It didn’t matter whether they could “prove it” or not. I was not accountable to them, nor would I ever trust their intent. If anything, it only helped my cause.

When we attempt to make persuasive hypocrisy arguments on rational grounds—e.g., that someone clearly didn’t do what they said they were going to do—we forget that hypocrisy is not about exposing a contradiction on paper. It’s about activating the feeling of betrayal. When betrayal is not deeply felt, the charge of hypocrisy is not effective.

Calling out people in power for playing by two different sets of rules only matters if it leads to that person’s team losing the game. Otherwise, it’s just savvy, not subversion.

Hypocrisy is an American Tradition

Being a hypocrite is one way people rise to power and get what they want, which many find admirable more than detestable. Most people will forgive a politician’s hypocrisy as long as they perceive that politician to be moving in the right direction—in their direction.

Hypocrisy is deeply American, so it’s hardly an insult that sticks. As I was watching the recent Ken Burns documentary about the American Revolution, one thing that stood out is how the colonial rebels described themselves as “slaves” to the British Crown. The revolutionaries wanted economic freedom even more than political freedom, all while their own economy was entirely dependent on enslaving others. To them, this was not contradictory, but a coherent identity powering the formation of a new country. It wasn’t a weakness for which they were liable, it was a strength for which they would be praised.

That pattern persists today: It’s deeply American in many people’s eyes, for instance, to pardon “good” people for doing bad things, while persecuting “bad” people for doing good things. Those who find that hypocrisy abhorrent do not necessarily win anyone over by merely calling it out. Some Trump supporters may think he did the wrong thing when he pardoned January 6 rioters, but that doesn’t mean they see his prosecution of enemies as wrong or lose faith in him because our side called him a hypocrite for pardoning those protestors while attacking others.

For many people, hypocrisy is written in the job description for politicians. They expect it. Calling a politician a hypocrite is like calling out a casino for stealing people’s money—we all know that’s just what they do, it’s all part of the game. In fact, calling a politician a hypocrite can say more about the naivete of the person doing it than the politician they’re trying to discredit.

There is No Rule About Consistency in Politics

Consistency is not inherently good, and inconsistency is not inherently bad. People who are angry at someone they don’t like might call them a hypocrite. But it rarely drives a wedge between them and someone they support.

Chuck Schumer has been remarkably consistent in his values, principles, and approach, and people now hate him for it. Bernie Sanders says the exact same thing today as he did in 1972, and people love him for it. Lindsey Graham can’t even say the same thing today that he said yesterday, and he’s been elected to the senate four times and remains a power player there.

I don’t know anyone on our side who was upset with Barack Obama for being against gay marriage but then later supporting it. Did he betray conservatives or satisfy liberals? The latter certainly didn’t care when he changed his mind, and the former wasn’t his base.

Politicians attract supporters with their promises, whether or not they break them. And they build loyal constituencies by establishing a sense of connection based on perceived shared identity, whether or not it’s authentic. That connection means voters often believe politicians can still be the person they want them to be, even if they get disappointed along the way.

We focus on the promises Trump breaks. But his voters focus on the promises he keeps. Only when he breaks the promises that actually matter to them will they abandon him. Otherwise, he can be perceived as being equally effective by being consistent or inconsistent.

We may think we know what will be a deal-breaker for Trump supporters, but we’re very often wrong—not to mention that none of his supporters want to hear it from us, even if they might hear it from Marjorie Taylor Greene.

Calling Out Hypocrisy Keeps Us in Reactive Mode

Arguing against politicians by calling out their hypocrisy keeps us reactive. We sound like we’re complaining instead of leading. We sound like we’re trying to get the ref to step in and save us because we’re not good enough to win the game ourselves.

Moreover, when we focus on hypocrisy, we’re responding to someone else’s words, framing and agenda. We often end up using their language and their symbols. In other words, we’re playing on their terrain.

But we don’t want to play on their field. We want to play on ours. Our field means our vision. And focusing our attention on hypocrisy isn’t visionary.

Calling "Hypocrite" Can Backfire

At some level, we’re all hypocrites. We go to websites to sign petitions about labor rights violations in the U.S. using our iPhones, which we know are produced under extreme conditions that violate every principle of good labor practices.

When we get too self-righteous with charges of hypocrisy against others, it triggers defensiveness, and it invites aggressive criticism that we, ourselves, are the true hypocrites. That undermines our position.

Rather than creating a wedge between a politician and their supporters, it can prompt people to rally around them—they take it personally when they feel like they’re being called out. That gives them common cause with the politician.

The Larger Lesson: What Feels Right Isn’t Always What Works

One trap we fall into is mistaking emotional satisfaction for political effectiveness. I used to tell spokespeople I worked with: If saying something feels incredibly good in the moment, it might be something for therapy—not for a media hit. Feeling good is not automatically being effective. And rallying an already committed base is not the same thing as winning people over.

I’ve led narrative work that didn’t pay off in one election cycle, but reshaped what’s possible over a decade. I’ve also seen our ecosystem reward short-term hits, instant reactions, and arguments that travel well on cable news but go nowhere in the real world, resulting in no impact at all. The goal is to activate people in the here and now, while also building winning momentum over time. But I’ve never seen a polling report that gets both the short-term and the long-term narrative insights and recommendations right.

The right wing doesn’t win people over, and convert those wins with people into wins in politics, because it’s coherent or consistent. They win because they tell a story about power and belonging at all times, consistent or not, and effectively invite people into it. That strength is what’s persuasive, along with all the lies and savvy arguments that go with them. And it’s a winning formula, when paired with all the structural advantages the right wing already has.

This year will be full of arguments. Some will feel righteous. Some will go viral. Some will make us feel clever and correct. That doesn’t mean they’re working. The question we must keep asking—starting now, not after we lose—is simple: What works for both our short term goals of activating our own people and our long term goals of winning over new people?