A New Year’s Resolution: Accept the Election Results With Grace, Even as You Dig In for the Fight Ahead

One of my goals as I anticipate the New Year is to embrace more consistently the concepts of grace and gratitude. And given the results of this past election, it is harder—but perhaps more important than ever—to try to aspire to this objective.

The election’s smoke has cleared. There is a definitive result. With the exception of some random conspiracy theorists on the left—spinning the same kind of ballot-tampering nonsense that election deniers did four years ago—America has accepted the outcome and either has moved on or is bracing for the tectonic shifts in governance that will accompany the incoming administration.

We know, of course, that had the results turned out differently, we would have been in for another round of “Stop the Steal.” But the fire hose of bogus complaints that had been streaming in on Election Day—Pennsylvania experienced “massive CHEATING,” bellowed Donald Trump on Truth Social—stopped abruptly around 10 p.m. ET, when it was clear Trump was going to win. The playbook had been foreordained: “We lose, it’s rigged. We win, it’s fair.” But since we’ve actually had a free and fair election, and will soon have what we expect to be a peaceful transfer of power—sans insurrection—maybe most observers can acknowledge that one of the nation’s foundational tenets survived the 2024 race: Representative democracy in America is built on an election system that still works, and works very well.

Who cares if Trump won by 1 million or 2 million, or if he won the popular vote by 1.2% or 1.1%? He won clearly and convincingly. The time has passed for engaging in absurd arguments over the semantics of what defines a “mandate.” The time has come for the pundits to stop blathering, for the pollsters to stop trying to justify their botched forecasts and outmoded models. The reality is plain: Republicans will hold the presidency, the Senate, and the House. The right also has a solid majority on the Supreme Court. So call it whatever you want, but whether you like it or not, Republicans get to run the show.

At the start of 2016, the presidential race had about a dozen Republican candidates. Remember Carly Fiorina? Rick Santorum? Jim Gilmore? Neither do I. But if you were a political operative who wanted to grab on to a candidate’s coattails, hoping to work for the likeliest next president, Trump was your 12th interview. So he got the worst of the lot, and he went into the Oval Office with a bunch of broken toys.

Not this time. Trump will be starting his second term with an experienced, well-oiled support team, one including chief of staff Susie Wiles, who probably ranks up near James Baker as one of the most respected former campaign operatives to be tapped as White House chief of staff.

Trump’s picks are precisely the kinds of loyalists and disruptors his surrogates had insisted he’d select. Voters voted for the whole shebang.

The broken toys are headed to Goodwill. One of the key shit-stirrers who helped run the campaign, Corey Lewandowski, is out in the cold for now. After the election, having seriously thrown his weight around during the 2024 campaign, he reportedly offered a conciliatory handshake to co-campaign manager Chris LaCivita, who, according to Politico, poked a finger in his chest and said: “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you. You have fucked with the wrong person. I am going to fucking destroy you.” This was like a cinematic face-off between an underboss and a consigliere—a fight that at one point involved LaCivita posting a picture of Tony Soprano giving the middle finger.

The transition has been moving lightning fast, featuring a little something for everyone to love (I mean, who foresaw an openly gay establishment pick—hedge fund honcho Scott Bessent—for Treasury secretary?) and, yes, lots to hate. People can argue all they want about the qualifications of would-be officials like Pete Hegseth, Kristi Noem, Tulsi Gabbard, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Linda McMahon, and Kash Patel, but they are precisely the kinds of loyalists and disruptors that Trump and his surrogates had insisted he’d select. Voters voted for the whole shebang.

And Matt Gaetz, as embarrassing a choice as he proved to be, served a useful purpose in sending a message to the MAGA faithful that there are still bridges too far, and that the Senate has an unassailable role to play in providing advice and consent when it comes to confirming a president’s picks.

The notion of Patel running the FBI (whose headquarters he has vowed to close on day one) sends shivers down the spine when you think of the retributive power that could be at his disposal. (Quoth Trump: “I am your retribution.”) But sadly, this is among the only ways for some of those in MAGA-world to come to the realization that the so-called deep state is actually not so deep and is, in fact, populated by decent civil servants, experienced agents, and invaluable law enforcement officials, who are just trying to do their jobs—and keep America safe.

It should come as no surprise that Democrats have spent weeks in a kind of circular firing squad. But the one thing I’ve discovered in my many decades of working in politics is that parties have to spend some time in the desert before finding water. And after all of the autopsies are performed, all of the action reports are written, and all of the blueprints for the future are drawn up, none of them are gonna cut it. Democrats will need their own Moses—a man or woman not yet anointed—to lead them back to Pennsylvania Avenue.

Then there is Joe Biden. In many ways he’ll never get credit for having set Trump up for a successful second term. He primed the pump for the country’s recovery from COVID. Then he tamed inflation, setting up a robust economy, one that even Trump’s threats of tariffs may not be able to screw up—at least not immediately. And thanks to Biden’s commitment, Ukraine, once the fighting has ceased, may be on the road to NATO membership and an outcome that does not include outright capitulation to Russia.

I’m not going to make the same mistake I made after the 2016 election, when I said on camera during the Showtime documentary series The Circus: “Trump won’t be as bad as his opponents think, or as good as supporters believe.” No one should be surprised if he decides to double down now on all his worst instincts. Nor am I going to suggest to those who are worried about Trump that his tenure is not going to be as bad as they anticipate. It probably will be, and it may end up much worse.

As my old pal John McCain used to say, “It’s always darkest before it goes completely black.”

But let me recommend a survival mantra. I’m working on a documentary about Gen Z’s pivotal role in the election, and there is one new trick this old dog has learned from the young guns. They were born into 9/11, an economic meltdown, multiple foreign wars, and COVID, to name just a few tragedies and obstacles in their path. And many have adopted a kind of outlook on life that may be healthy for us all to embrace: The worst is gonna happen, and yet the world’s not gonna end.

Collectively, you and everyone you know are part of a country that voted for this. And if you don’t like it, it’s time to start doing something about it, with your eyes on 2026 and 2028. The opposition is counting on you to become exhausted, to give up. And that is the test. Can you keep your fire burning?

In the meantime, face the reality of the present moment, at least in the short term, with some grace and gratitude: grace to accept and learn from defeat, and gratitude for the strength not to surrender. As my old pal John McCain used to say, “It’s always darkest before it goes completely black.”

My message for the New Year is not that it’s all going to be okay. My message is: Buckle up, double down, and say some prayers.

Amen.