For me, 2024’s summer belonged to Chappell Roan. I had her album, “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess,” on repeat and almost got a heat stroke lining up for her set at Lollapalooza. What most drew me to Roan was that she was unabashedly queer in and out of her music, often supporting local drag artists at her tour stop and speaking out regarding issues that affect the LGBTQ+ community.
Then, because nothing good can last, came The Guardian interview two weeks ago where Roan said that she “feels no pressure to endorse someone” as “there’s problems on both sides.” Roan explained that her actions for the causes she cares about are more important than endorsing candidates, and that while she is voting for Kamala Harris, she won’t endorse her.
Roan’s gripe with the Harris-Walz campaign seems not to be directed at the specific platform of the campaign, or the candidate’s personal qualification, but that Roan believes the Democratic Party has some “completely transphobic and genocidal views.” Roan has been outspoken about her support for Palestine. However, not only does Harris’ endorsement of a ceasefire already place her with only a small minority in Congress, Roan is also not a single-issue voter. In Roan’s original Guardian interview, Roan said that trans rights were her policy priority this year, and that cis people should not make policy decisions for trans people.
It is confusing, however, to see why Roan does not see Harris, and the Democratic platform by extension, as an ally to the cause; other than trans-friendly policies, the Biden-Harris administration appointed Adm. Rachel Levine to be the 17th Assistant Secretary for Health, making her the highest-ranking openly transgender government official. Such a historic appointment is progress towards allowing trans government officials to be a part of policy-making, especially in regards to transgender healthcare.
Both Harris and Tim Walz are also staunch supporters of LGBTQ+ rights; Harris supported gay marriage even as California’s attorney general, and Walz’s gubernatorial record was that of a key ally in Minnesota, passing laws to protect access to gender affirming care. I struggled to find any evidence that can substantiate Roan’s claim of transphobic Democratic policies. Rather than citing specific policies, Roan’s reluctance to support the Harris campaign seems more on principle rather than substance.
In place of endorsing Harris, Roan instead endorses critical thinking as her guiding principle. Specifically, Roan said that she is “questioning both sides,” and as a result, she is “not picking the sides of what we have right now.” However, Roan later says that she is voting for Harris, and that Harris’ side is much better than Donald Trump’s; she reiterates that she refuses to pick a side. No amount of Roan’s critical thinking could save this from being utterly confusing; without delving into the semantics, picking a side involves choosing one as better than the other — which Roan effectively has already accomplished by choosing a candidate to vote for.
Roan wants you to know that yes, she is voting for Harris; yes, she believes Harris’ platform to be much better than Trump’s; yes, she supports trans rights but she also wants you to know that she doesn’t really care for using her platform to help the “much better” side win the election. She also definitely can’t tell you exactly why she believes Harris’ side is much better than Trump’s, which is all that an endorsement would entail, because that would be picking a side, and that’s not on-brand for her project.
Roan’s rhetoric is a form of apathetic disengagement of politics, dangerously masking itself under the guise of enlightened critical thinking. Effectively, endorsing a candidate or tangibly supporting a candidate is an action one may take, but “not settling” is nothing but explanations of one’s inaction. Roan’s abstinence from national politics is a privilege; by saying she feels no need to endorse a candidate, Roan implies that this election is of little consequence to her. Indeed, Roan is a white, rich, cisgender woman, and she will be fine — but perhaps trans kids who may lose their access to gender affirming care under Trump cannot say the same.
Roan is the newest voice for a generation of young voters frustrated with the institution that never seems to work for them. But I worry about the consequences of when such frustrations turn into apathy, trivializing the importance of voting and activism: If the system is so broken beyond repair, we might as well never try. If there’s so many problems with both sides that Roan cannot endorse one, why should someone even bother to vote? Moreover, what if such pessimism of the state of politics is simply used as an excuse to disengage from politics?
Such pessimism is a self-fulfilling prophecy, in which whether out of genuine frustrations or an attempt to alleviate oneself of moral civic responsibility, we cede political power as a generation to those who are more politically engaged, who are more willing to turn out and vote, and who are willing to take steps at molding the future of our political realities. Choosing to be politically apathetic, to not utilize one’s own platform and one’s own political power, is an act of surrendering one’s own political power to those who care more about exercising theirs.
Voting for and endorsing Harris does not mean settling with the Democratic platform’s status quo; former President Barack Obama opposed same-sex marriage in his 2008 campaign but later supported the passing of Obergefell v. Hodges, calling it a “victory for America.” Perhaps, with more activism and coalition-building, a similarly evolving viewpoint may occur for Harris with regards to Palestine, especially as she has already expressed her support for a ceasefire. Similarly, Harris has expressed openness to many forms of democratic reform, such as abolishing the Electoral College and filibustering, many of which can help fix the system that Roan finds many issues with.
Roan encourages her audience to think critically, but perhaps she must also interrogate how she leverages her own platform to further the causes she cares about, and whether her hope for change means genuinely looking for potential reform and solutions, or if it is an excuse to disengage with the current state of politics. Perhaps Roan would do well to attempt to understand that it is possible to continue to question the candidate that one may choose to support, without allowing these frustrations and cynicism to prevent meaningful exercises of political power.
We, too, must venture to discover meaningful solutions to combat our own growing apathy. How long can we, as a new generation of bearers of political power, complain about the status quo before our inaction becomes responsible for creating it? How long can we use our frustrations to excuse not voting, or not becoming more politically engaged, before we pass a broken system to the next generation?
Lavender Huang is a Medill junior. She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.
