Onward. Forward. With your help.

Happy birthday to Democracy Americana! One year ago, I started this experiment. To keep it going, I need your support.

By Thomas Zimmer, September 24, 2026

A quick reminder: This newsletter is also available in German. If that is of interest to you, head over to Demokratie Americana (Opens in a new window)

Dear readers,

Exactly one year ago, I started a new life as a full-time independent writer. Democracy Americana became the focus of my professional work and my main source of income. Today, I want to say thank you! And I ask for your support to keep this publication – and me – going. 

Being able to write for a living is an enormous privilege. And more than that: It honors me greatly to know that so many people are allowing me a place at the table, to be part of their conversations. That my writing is met with interest, energy, and engagement makes this work immensely meaningful

Twelve months ago, I took this step amidst a series of life-changing transitions. When I re-launched Democracy Americana last September, I wrote extensively (Opens in a new window) about my decision to leave academia, about the reasons why my family and I decided to leave the United States. It was a nervous, anxious moment. I had to hope and trust that there would be enough people out there who not only value my work but are also willing and able to support it financially. I can honestly say that this is the most gratifying work I have ever done, the best job I have ever had.

Alas, in order to keep going and keep writing Democracy Americana, I rely on the generosity and the support of my readers. Allow me to ask you directly to support me with a paid membership.

Not ready yet for a paid membership? You can subscribe to the free version of the newsletter:

I hope you will indulge me. I know this isn’t why you are reading this newsletter. And I promise that I will return to grappling with the madness that surrounds us as soon as I am done writing this. But I really do need your help. I figure this one-year anniversary is as good an occasion as any to tell you why, and what you get in return. Consider this my once-annual plea.

In what follows, I want to explain why Democracy Americana remains in a precarious situation one year after launch and outline what I believe my work can offer you, what I am – what we are, together – building here. I am not trying to guilt and coerce anyone into giving me money they don’t think I deserve or aren’t in a position to give. My goal is to make sure my readers have an adequate understanding of the realities that determine the future of this publication.

If you are a regular reader but you are not sure yet if Democracy Americana deserves your support, I hope I will be able to convince you. If you do find my work valuable, but you are currently not in a position to support it financially, you should know that I very much appreciate your time and effort engaging. Please help me spread the word and find new readers by recommending Democracy Americana to anyone in your circles who might be interested.

Most importantly, if you value my work and you are in a position to offer financial support, please consider becoming a paid member.

Look, I get it. The media landscape – and with it, the information environment in which we all exist – keeps fracturing. The number of independent outlets vying for attention has grown exponentially in recent years; every day our email inboxes are filled with more newsletters than anyone could possibly read.

I understand, therefore, that the onus is on me to make a convincing case. So, let me make my pitch and tell you what Democracy Americana can offer, why it matters, and what I believe distinguishes my work. I also want to share with you where I would like to be going in Year Two. 

As I see it, there are two separate dimensions: There are, first of all, the exclusive benefits that come with a paid membership. While I publish free pieces regularly, at least half of my writing on Democracy Americana is reserved for paid members. In other words, as a paid member, you get about double the “content.” You also have access to the audio versions of all my writing in podcast form – either via an RSS feed that enables you to get the audio version in the podcast player of your choice or via a premium Spotify feed.

A second dimension is, I believe, even more important: You are not merely paying for a newsletter. With a paid membership, you are supporting me, my work – everything I do professionally is built on your generosity. You are allowing me to remain truly independent, to offer not just quick punditry, but an academically grounded perspective that combines historical context and political analysis – with a focus on the United States but situated within the transnational struggle over the fate of democracy. Every piece I publish in a newspaper, every talk I’m able to deliver to a live audience, every interview I do, every podcast appearance, every roundtable discussion: None of it would be feasible without your backing, your encouragement, and your generosity.

The state of Democracy Americana

Before I give you the more elaborate version of my pitch below and tell you what, exactly, I am hoping to accomplish, I owe you a little bit of transparency about the state of Democracy Americana – the business side of things, if you will. Since I am asking you for financial support, that seems only fair.

When I launched into this new life as a full-time writer, I said I would give myself one year to make it work. In the most immediate sense, that meant turning my independent work into a financially viable career, with Democracy Americana as the centerpiece of my “business strategy.” The goal I set for myself was to get to 1,000 paying subscribers – or: “members” – within twelve months. The newsletter goes out to about 20,000 total subscribers, and achieving a conversion rate of free-to-paid subscribers of about five percent seemed reasonable, if perhaps somewhat ambitious.

The goal of 1,000 subscribers was not chosen randomly: It’s the point where the revenue generated by Democracy Americana would translate into enough income to make a living without relying on lots of additional paid work like writing for newspapers and magazines, giving talks, or doing other public events. I like doing these kinds of gigs. But as any freelance journalist or writer will tell you, depending on such commissioned work creates a lot of stress and uncertainty. You are always pitching, negotiating, hoping the next thing will materialize… while much of the process is out of your hands, depending mostly on the ebbs and flows of the attention economy and on relatively opaque decisions in editorial meetings of media institutions. My biggest goal was to gain as much independence as possible from such dynamics in order to have more certainty and be able to put most of my energy into the actual work rather than into hustling to secure the next paid gig.

Alas, after twelve months, I am only about eighty percent there, with a little over 800 paying members. I’m sure there is more than one reason why I’ve fallen short. But it certainly has a lot to do with my departure from Substack, where the newsletter was hosted initially, and my decision to re-launch Democracy Americana at a different platform here at Steady. I have written extensively (Opens in a new window) about the political and ethical reasons for moving away from Substack, a decision I stand by, even if it has cost me. I won’t elaborate on that story here. But I will admit that I vastly underestimated how high the price would be, how much leaving Substack would hurt the reach and visibility of Democracy Americana. It has turned out to be brutally hard to find new subscribers, let alone paying members, away from Substack. That is less a story about Steady, specifically, as other writers (Opens in a new window) have described similar dynamics after moving to different platforms. The fact is that many millions of people are already on Substack, and the biggest accounts and media institutions with hundreds of thousands of subscribers keep drawing more people in. Away from Substack, there are no comparable network effects to benefit from, no comparable existing reservoir of potential readers. Growing an independent publication beyond a certain size as an individual writer away from Substack seems… very, very difficult.

That’s the not-so-good news. On the other hand, and that is the better news, I have gotten close enough to my initial goal where I can say that, as of right now, being an independent writer is a financially viable career for me - as long as I manage to supplement the income generated via Democracy Americana with enough paid work for newspapers, talks, etc.

That doesn’t mean I’m in a comfortable position. I have certainly been working more than ever before in my life, and I am not expecting that to change anytime soon. And the situation remains quite precarious. Especially now, as I am about to find out whether I have done enough to earn the long-term trust of enough readers, beyond the newborn and toddler phases of this publication.

Want to support my work? Consider becoming a paid member:

My offer and my promise

Whatever contribution I am able to make through my work: As a paid member, you are making that possible. But what, exactly, is it that I am contributing?

1) Democracy Americana has allowed me to remain independent, which is an enormous privilege. I have no sponsors, no income from advertisement. I am not constrained or restricted by any institutional commitment. It is literally just me. That makes things much more difficult financially (and it may well be stupid as a business model). But it also means that I am free of any obligation except the one to my readers – and to the analysis itself. I get to decide what to think and write about, when and how to think and write about it. I have to believe there is real value in that.

2) I offer a perspective at the intersection of academic research and the broader public discourse. Having spent almost two decades teaching and doing research within the academic system, I certainly don’t think academia has all the answers to all the questions. But there is tremendously helpful, valuable academic research being produced every day – research that is all too often ignored (sometimes willfully) by political leaders as well as media elites. Conversely, I think it is fair to say that academics often struggle to interject their expertise into the discourse in a way that is accessible and has a chance to actually break through (which is also simply not the job they are tasked to do). Democracy Americana can help translate the state of the academic discussion, can critique and evaluate public narratives from the perspective of academic research. My essays are intended for a broader audience – but I take pride in researching and writing them in a way that stands up to academic scrutiny. Others will always be faster or cover the news more broadly. But I don’t think anyone will be more thorough. 

3) Both my academic as well as my biographical background enable me to situate current American politics not just in U.S. history, but also from an international perspective; to look beyond deep-seated notions of exceptionalism and identify what really is specifically American about the current situation and what is part of a much broader transnational struggle over the future of liberal democracy; to place Trumpism in the context of a global far-right mobilization against the idea of egalitarian pluralism. Conversely, I am also approaching the struggle against rightwing authoritarianism in Europe from a transnational and transatlantic perspective. I spent the past decade focusing on U.S. history and politics. But before that, I studied, researched, and taught modern German and European history. I spent most of the past ten years in the United States, but I moved back to Germany with my family just as the far-right AfD inches ever closer to power. The escalating struggle between the vision of democratic pluralism and the idea of an authoritarian ethnostate transcends national borders. If we want to understand this conflict, our perspective must not be confined to national boundaries either.

4) I am quite confident that Democracy Americana has so far managed to avoid the punditry trap. There are two things that I detest about a particular type of pundit who is far too prominently represented in our political discourse: They eagerly offer takes on everything, and they treat everything as if it were just a game. I get the temptation: Once you have a public platform, the pressure to constantly produce “content” is very real. I feel it every day. Once you have an audience, it is so easy to become seduced by the idea that every one of your opinions should be shared with the world. To counter these temptations, I promised myself I would be more rigorous, stick to my areas of expertise, never write anything that I wouldn’t want to defend at an academic conference or in a discussion with people who really knew their stuff. I believe I have been faithful to that philosophy. Moreover, I promise you I will never approach “the discourse” as just a game where we all throw takes at each other and the “quality” of our contributions is measured solely by whether or not they get enough attention, flatter the right group of people, and annoy those they were designed to annoy. I am not going to pretend I’m a “neutral” spectator writing from a place of detached irony. I take my contributions seriously, as an academically trained observer and as a citizen. The stuff I write about weighs on me. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t be worth writing about.

The proof is in the pudding

I can make promises all day long. But the best way for you to decide whether or not you want to support me is to actually look at my work. I invite all of you to take a stroll through the Democracy Americana archive / catalog (Opens in a new window), where you find all the pieces I have published in here. And I have also selected a few pieces from the past year I consider representative of what I do – and specifically pieces I wrote exclusively for paid members of Democracy Americana. For this occasion, I have taken down the paywall, making them accessible for free subscribers and anyone who might be on the fence. This, I hope, will give you a sense of the additional value that comes with a paid membership.

The five pieces, all written exclusively for paid members but now freely available to you, I want to highlight:

The Myth of a Rightward Realignment (Opens in a new window)

Last November, I wrote about three stubborn myths regarding Trump’s support and what happened in the 2024 election – and why America is experiencing a de-alignment rather than a rightward realignment. In the piece, I tackle three building blocks of the misleading “realignment” narrative: 1) The idea that U.S. society moved right in accordance with the broader outlines of Trumpism’s vision; 2) that Trump is the tribune of the working class; 3) that he is building a stable multiracial coalition. All of these myths continue to shape the political discourse – in the United States and abroad – even though they have been thoroughly disproven empirically. This was my attempt to synthesize the empirical information we have and build on the best available analysis. Because we simply can’t afford to cling to fallacies and (willful) misunderstandings.

Why the Tech Billionaires Are Aligned with Trump (Opens in a new window)

In late April, I wrote about one of the defining - and most dangerous - stories of our time: Fueled by profit motives, ideological radicalization, and elite self-victimization, America’s tech barons are aggressively taking the side of authoritarianism. But why now? This was my attempt to portray the ideological and intellectual landscape of the tech billionaire world, trace their political trajectory since the height of the neoliberal consensus in the 1990s, and explain the more recent activation of long-standing anti-democratic tendencies.

Putting the End of the Civil Rights Era in Historical Perspective (Opens in a new window)

In May, I wrote about the Rise and Fall of the Second Reconstruction, 1964/65 – 2025/26: An attempt to really grasp what a profoundly important - and disturbing - moment in U.S. history we are currently experiencing. This was my reaction to the Supreme Court’s decision in Louisiana v Callais, which made the Voting Rights Act useless as an instrument to protect minority representation. In the piece, I explore the civil rights revolution of the 1960s, reflect on why it had such a transformative impact on politics and society – and examine why what we are witnessing now really is best understood as the end of a distinct era in U.S. history: The end of the civil rights order. This was also Part II of a series on the history of multiracial democracy in America. Not a total history, of course, but something that can serve as a framework for how to think about the dynamics of democratic extension vs reactionary retrenchment throughout U.S. history.

Understanding Our Disruptive Moment in History – and What It Requires (Opens in a new window)

In late June, I wrote about how the political, economic, technological, and environmental crises intersect, why they are escalating now – and about the political implications of recognizing the profound disruption we are witnessing. The dynamic unleashed by these crises makes any attempt at “politics as usual” largely obsolete. One big advantage the Right possesses is that they are pursuing a transformative vision. They have a revolutionary theory of the moment and are committed to a (counter-) revolutionary political project. The Right doesn’t have answers, but it has a promise that fits our moment of unprecedented disruption temperamentally. The challenge is to counter this with a progressive vision that is adapted, both in substance and temperament, to the disruptive challenges we are facing.

Power, Opportunism, and Ideology in Republican Politics (Opens in a new window)

In late July, I wrote about Lindsay Graham – and about so many more like him. The reason why it was worth dwelling on the last decade of Graham’s life is that it captured the core dynamics that have defined the behavior of the Republican establishment more broadly. This piece is about Graham and, more importantly, about the broader questions his case rases: About the trajectory of the Republican Party and the conditions that made Trump’s rise possible; about what made Trump attractive to conservative elites and why they are sticking with him. It’s a piece about the relationship between opportunism and ideology; about the logic of escalation that is fueled by a sense of having burned all bridges; and, ultimately, about the permission structure that has governed rightwing politics for decades. Unless we understand this permission structure, we understand nothing. Not how the GOP got to this point - nor where it is likely going next and why, as a default, we must assume Republican elites will continue to find ways to allow themselves to fuel and enable extremism.

What impact could my work possibly have?

Does any of this really matter? I have to believe it does. Why anyone would go through the trouble of writing - a process I find endlessly demanding, challenging, often draining – is utterly beyond me. If none of this matters, why bother?

I’m under no illusions about the limits of what I can possibly achieve. I think it is rather rare – and in many cases downright impossible – to “persuade” people who have already settled on a political position and identity. The very idea that the political conflict is ultimately about better arguments is misleading. It’s one of the fallacies of which many educated liberals and lefties – like me! – apparently can’t fully let go. But a fallacy it remains: People like me would love it to be a contest of ideas, a competition of who has the better arguments. Because that’s the kind of struggle with which we feel comfortable, that we – naively, arrogantly – believe we would definitely win. But it’s not the kind of conflict we find ourselves in. Better to accept and grapple with that.

But that doesn’t mean it’s all pointless. There is value in providing perspective, in carefully crafting arguments that actually hold up empirically, in evaluating and critiquing the narratives that are shaping our world. A question I ask myself with every piece I write is: Does a person not fully aligned with my opinion and sensibilities still get something worthwhile out of this? Am I providing valuable information and context, am I offering an explanation that is worth grappling with? I believe Democracy Americana meets that challenge.

I also believe that making sense of the world is an interactive process, something that happens when we grapple with the thoughts and arguments we encounter. What I am hoping to do with my work is provide a vocabulary people can use to develop their own interpretations, express their own opinions. 

And finally, I am convinced there is long-term value in injecting my arguments into the discussion. As a writer, you can’t possibly hope to revolutionize “the discourse” overnight. But perhaps I can contribute to shifting it over time, essay by essay, by offering my perspective as something people can draw on and work with whenever and wherever they encounter it.

What’s next?

When I look back at the past twelve months, I do have regrets and I certainly see lots of room for improvement. For starters, I wish I had been able to write more often, increase the frequency. I sit on a graveyard of essay drafts that never turned into published posts – because by the time I had something close to ready, the discourse had moved on, the next big thing happened… To some extent, that just comes with the territory when you’re setting out to write deep dives like the ones I produce here. That takes time and care. But I do think I should diversify my portfolio a little bit and find room for a slightly different genre of writing. You still won’t get any hot takes from me, no worries; but I do want to complement the deep dives with the occasional shorter form, a true “essay” in the sense of an attempt, an observation more than a comprehensive exploration. 

I also regret that I have not been able to make Democracy Americana more interactive, be more responsive to your comments and questions. That is something I definitely want to work on, find formats that will allow me to interact with you more.

Finally, I miss having – and sharing – conversations with people whose work inspires me. Some of you will remember that I used to co-host a podcast called “Is This Democracy” where we regularly recorded and published such conversations. I am hoping I can add such a format to Democracy Americana soon: A chance to talk and think through the issues of the day with the help of people I admire.

Don’t get me wrong: I do not plan on making any drastic changes. The long-form essay remains the core of what I do here, and I am devoted to that central mission. But Democracy Americana is very much not a finished product. It is ever a work in progress.

Onward. Forward.

These are nervous times. As I write this, we are just six weeks away from the midterm elections. A far-right international is rising. The darkest forces of modern history are stirring. We are facing major disruptions – politically, socially, technologically, economically, environmentally. Tackling even just one of these challenges would be hard: The destructions wrought by the escalating rightwing “counterrevolution”; the profound disillusionment with the system brought about by decades of elite impunity and neoliberal “reform”; the technological revolution spear-headed by people who, in a fundamental sense, seem to be convinced that humanity itself is the problem; and the climate crisis rapidly accelerating to the point where the structures we built for a world that is quickly vanishing are starting to fail.

This is a scary moment. Status quo politics won’t cut it. What we need is transformational aspiration that meets the moment. I am convinced of two things: The only way is through. And the only way through is together. For me, that means together with you, my readers.

With your help and your trust: Onward. Forward.

With my sincerest thanks and deep gratitude,

Thomas

Democracy Americana is my main source of income as an independent writer. Want to support my work? Consider becoming a paid member: