As the U.S. presidential election hurtles toward its conclusion, the theatrical contest between candidates serves as a smokescreen, carefully constructed to obscure the underlying issues at stake. Corporate media and political elites eagerly amplify the rhetoric around which candidate is “better for the people” or “more progressive.” Yet, in truth, the differences between candidates like Donald Trump and Kamala Harris are cosmetic, masking the bipartisan commitment to preserving U.S. dominance and power. The platforms may vary in tone, but the policies they uphold maintain the violent, extractive structures of U.S. imperialism.
Both candidates, along with their backers, share a vision of American “order” – an order upheld by military, police, and surveillance. This shared agenda justifies extreme violence, not only abroad but also at home, in the name of “security” and “national interest.” Whether it’s through foreign interventions, support for oppressive allies, or crackdowns on protests within the U.S., the political establishment treats dissent as a threat to be controlled, not as a voice to be respected. And the cost of this “security” is paid by marginalised communities, both in the U.S. and around the world, who suffer the harshest consequences of militarism, policing, and economic control.
The disillusionment with the “Lesser of Two Evils” argument is palpable. This tired tactic – the notion that citizens should vote for the less harmful candidate to avoid a worse fate – is finally wearing thin. It’s clear that this logic, a staple of U.S. election discourse, is merely a tool for maintaining a false binary that keeps people dependent on the very system that oppresses them. This argument has historically been a way to neutralise the people’s desire for genuine change, pushing them into a cycle of choosing between two ruling-class candidates, neither of whom represent their true interests.
An example of this illusion in action is the framing of each candidate as a force for change. Rather than being framed as public servants accountable to the people, Trump and Harris are packaged as symbols of “progress” or “protection” against the other. But what change do they actually represent? Instead of substantial policy shifts, they offer different faces of the same agenda: an agenda designed to serve the interests of the state and the corporate elite.
One of the most cynical tactics used to manage public perception is the creation of “voting blocs,” based on demographics rather than issues. Voters are fragmented into categories like the “Black vote,” the “women’s vote,” the “youth vote,” and more. These blocs don’t reflect unified interests but serve to pit groups against each other, fracturing solidarity along fabricated lines and discouraging collective action. This segmentation treats people as market segments rather than as a unified working class with shared interests and demands. When elections treat people as voting blocs, it’s an open admission that they’re not taken seriously as agents of change but as commodities to be counted and manipulated.
Meanwhile, the narrative of “extremism” is used to demonise any voices that challenge the status quo. For instance, Trump labels his critics as the “extreme left,” while Harris’s camp casts Trump and his supporters as dangerous right-wing extremists. This mutually reinforcing strategy serves to delegitimise genuine grassroots activism on both sides, portraying any form of dissent as radical and dangerous. Harris, who openly supports the brutal actions of Israel against Palestinians in the name of “security,” is marketed as the “progressive” option, while Trump is framed as the embodiment of fascism. But both rely on extreme measures to maintain their control – one through overt brutality, the other through a sanitised rhetoric of “human rights” and “progress.”
This concept of the “third way” – a neoliberal, centrist approach that claims to balance the extremes – is little more than a marketing ploy to present continuity as change. The third way, popularised by figures like Tony Blair in the UK and the Clintons in the U.S., claims to offer a “modern” alternative, but its real function is to preserve the power structures that keep the people out of power. Its legacy is evident in the rampant inequality, ecological devastation, and endless wars that have defined the last three decades. Under the guise of protecting “human rights” and “democracy,” this approach endorses the U.S. government’s interference in other countries, from regime changes to economic manipulation, whenever a state resists subservience to U.S. interests. This is not change – it’s the same imperialist machine, refined for a more media-savvy era.
Within the U.S., the drive to dismantle collective action and keep political power in the hands of a wealthy few has only intensified. People everywhere are waking up to the realisation that real democracy doesn’t come from the ballot box, but from sustained, collective action outside of electoral cycles. Campaigns like “No Votes for Genocide” and “Abandon Killer Kamala” are signs of this growing consciousness. Across campuses, cities, and small towns, people are mobilising in support of Palestinian rights, demanding an end to arms exports, and calling for an immediate ceasefire in places affected by U.S. imperial aggression.
The working class, through organising and strikes, is providing the clearest alternative to the farce of this election. Essential workers in healthcare, logistics, and manufacturing have shown that they’re more than capable of asserting control over their own workplaces and communities. The recent wave of strikes – from healthcare workers demanding fair wages and safe conditions, to factory workers fighting for dignity on the job – illustrates the vast potential for workers to govern and transform society. But the political system is engineered to obscure this potential, maintaining that only the elite can truly lead.
For those committed to change that serves the people, the answer lies in refusing to be drawn into debates over which ruling-class candidate is “better.” Both serve the interests of capital and empire, not the people. The real power for change lies in grassroots organising, in the building of a movement that refuses to let the state set the terms. To genuinely challenge the status quo, we must speak and act in our own name, sidelining the rich and their candidates, and advancing the fight for a world that prioritises justice, equality, and peace.
In a society that thrives on distraction, choosing to build independent power is itself a radical act. As people around the world rise up against their governments in pursuit of self-determination and justice, the U.S. working class has a chance to turn away from the false choices presented to them and embrace a path toward real empowerment. By refusing to let the electoral spectacle define their politics, the people can carry forward a fight for systemic change that goes beyond cycles of empty promises and ensures that the future belongs to them – not to the elites who seek to control it.