The weekend I arrived in Washington, D.C., for my fellowship with the Archer Center, the city was awash in frost and tension. January 20, 2025, was frigid and gray, with sharp, biting gusts sweeping across the National Mall. Snowflakes swirled in dizzying patterns, blanketing marble steps in a thin layer of frost. Crowds pressed together in tight knots, their breath visible in the freezing air, eyes fixed on the Capitol. This was no ordinary inauguration. It was the swearing-in of Donald Trump — a moment that, for better or worse, felt like a turning point in the life of our democracy.
I had come to D.C. eager to study government in action. Instead, I became a witness to its unraveling. What should have been a celebration of democracy instead felt fractured, as if the very foundation of governance was splintering before my eyes. And soon, I realized the tension I felt in D.C. was not confined to the capital, but that it was alive on UT’s campus, too.
As a government student, I have studied how political polarization shapes governance, policy outcomes and civic trust. But my academic lens was tested in practice when I served as director of the Governmental Relations Agency, a branch of Student Government dedicated to connecting UT students to politics and policymakers. The agency’s mission was to create spaces where students with opposing viewpoints could engage without hostility — something easier said than done in today’s climate. During my time in Student Government, I helped organize dialogues where students from across the political spectrum came together over coffee to discuss today’s issues. These conversations were not perfect, but they reminded me that most students are not interested in silencing each other but in being heard.
On campus, I saw polarization ripple into our own SG. Meetings that should have been about improving student life devolved into bitter divides. First-year student organizations designed to serve students were paralyzed by factional infighting. Furthermore, recent decisions to dismantle agencies like ours demonstrate how radical polarization can hinder opportunities for growth and dialogue by shutting down dialogue before it begins. These agencies were spaces intentionally designed to bridge differences, fostering cross-partisan conversations and civic engagement. Their removal, however, was driven by heightened ideological divides rather than dialogue, leaving a gap in how students engage with differing perspectives. Politics no longer stopped at the edge of the classroom. It spilled into organizations, relationships and the way students see one another. The war has now come to the homefront. The result? A narrower civic space, depriving students and the larger community of opportunities to grow through engagement and mutual understanding.
Polarization on campus does more harm than good when it leads to silos of thought. When students avoid conversations with those who disagree, they lose the chance to challenge their assumptions. Worse, it normalizes the idea that disagreement is inherently unsafe or unproductive. This is a threat to higher education itself, which depends on debate, open inquiry and the clash of ideas.
But I do not believe polarization is entirely destructive. At its best, polarization reveals how deeply people care about the issues that shape their lives. The danger lies when passion turns into dismissal. Free speech and polarization should not be reconciled by choosing one over the other; the two should coexist through civil discourse. It should reinforce the fact that listening is not surrendering.
The real threat to higher education is not disagreement — it is apathy. A campus without debate is not a thriving, vibrant nor intellectual community. It is an echo chamber. If we can learn to disagree without dehumanizing one another, we can turn polarization from a destructive force into a catalyst for growth. As one of the nation’s leading universities, UT has the unique platform to model a healthier way forward. But that requires more than lip service. It requires courage to listen, engage and disagree even when uncomfortable.
Tharakan is a government and economics senior, Archer Fellow and Bowden Fellow for the Bech-Laughlin First Amendment Center.
