“When did Democrats stop caring about working people?”

I hear that question a lot from Delawareans—nurses and cops, dental hygienists and mechanics. I also heard it plenty in 2024 as I campaigned for Kamala Harris and Senate Democrats. Elected Democrats—me included—still see ourselves as fighting hard for the middle class, protecting the rights of workers, and trying to make life easier for working families. These are the people who are on our minds when we write bills and take votes. But when those same people look at us, they don’t feel that we care about them or their needs. We lost an election in 2024, but more than that, we’ve lost Americans’ trust.

Little more than a year later, the luster is coming off President Trump thanks to his unfulfilled promises and his assault on our rights and Constitution. His approval rating, alongside that of Republicans in Congress, has fallen sharply, and this summer he rammed through one of the least popular pieces of legislation in modern American history. Even so, Americans still trust Republicans more than Democrats on most of the issues that matter, from the economy to safety.

Democrats need to stop telling Americans how to be and what to feel and believe. Instead, we need to listen. Then we need to solve the problems they’ve shared with us. In the last few years, it’s not just our message that was wrong—it was some of our policies, too. People didn’t recognize the impacts of the bills we wrote and the votes we took. That’s why Americans don’t believe us when we preach at them from auditorium stages, cable news desks, and social media posts.

We have to get back to the values and ideas that draw people to be Democrats to begin with.

I would know because they’re what drew me to the party. I didn’t begin my political life as a Democrat. My parents were Republicans, and I was raised on the idea that if you worked hard, you could attain the American dream the way my family had. In college, I helped found the Amherst College Republicans. My freshman summer, I interned with Senator Bill Roth, a Delaware Republican.

It was a wealthy, white bubble, and by my junior year, I realized I had to experience something from the world beyond it. So I decided to study abroad at the University of Nairobi.

In Kenya, I experienced what I came to think of as radical hospitality. I stayed with people who, although enduring terrible material circumstances, were sustained by their faith and family—and who welcomed strangers in openhearted ways I’d never seen in this country. They showed me a kind of worship I hadn’t experienced before either. I grew up going to Red Clay Creek Presbyterian Church, a suburban, mostly prosperous, and mostly white church in Wilmington, Delaware, where, although the sermons were moving and the choir compelling, there was a reserved determination to the services. Now, half a world away, I was at lively, joyful, four-hour church services filled with music and with people truly relying on the hope they gained through worship to get them through hard days.

I encountered something else, too. After services and in between my classes, these new friends challenged and changed my views of the world and my home. In debates with other students, I found that I couldn’t defend U.S. foreign policy on apartheid.

It’s powerful to see your country from another’s perspective. I saw that people really looked to our democracy as a beacon of hope and were bitterly disappointed by our actions in South Africa.

When I landed back in New York after months of these conversations, my college debate partner—now in a Jesuit seminary—picked me up and drove me through the deep, concentrated poverty of the South Bronx. As we got out of the car and walked around, he said, “Explain this.” We were only a few miles from the homes of some of the richest people on Earth.

“Please tell me, in your Republican view of opportunity and America, how this is just. How this comes from a good and fair system.”

Answering that question took time. It’s one I think about even today. As I’ve wrestled with it, I’ve been blessed by friends who have gently but persistently prodded me. Why do you think that? Why do you feel that way? They gave me the space to think about my views and examine for myself what it was that I actually believed.

The answer for me is, as it was then, that people need to have the opportunity to succeed. They need to feel secure in their homes and in their futures. I think that’s what all Americans want—regardless of party. Those are the values my Republican family instilled in me, but they could just as easily have been taught to me by Democratic parents.

My parents believed that the way to uphold those values was in freedom from taxes and regulation so that they could keep more of what they earned and then give back to our community. The difference between that centrist Republican position of my youth and the centrist Democratic position of my adulthood is that I believe we are also required to make the world more just. Scripture tells us in Micah 6:8 that we are called to do justice, walk humbly, and love mercy. Part of living up to that call is pushing our elected officials to create just conditions under which everyone will thrive. That’s the kind of fairness that would have given children in the South Bronx access to more opportunities; the kind of care that would not leave rural communities behind; the kind of policy that would not raise up one group at the expense of another but would instead make sure no one was left behind.

These were the values that inspired me to join the Democratic Party.

Today, I and many others worry that we’ve lost sight of those values, and that we’ve in turn lost sight of how to engage Americans. Ever since the shattering loss of the White House and the Senate majority in 2024, Americans have been asking about the direction of the party. What do we stand for? Where will we take the country if voters give us the chance to lead again? We should have run better campaigns in 2024, but more than a year later, we also need better answers to those questions than what we offered on Election Day.

Democrats did very well in the off-year 2025 elections, but success in larger elections in 2026 and especially 2028 will require a more affirmative vision. If we want to win again, we need to offer voters a concise, accessible framework that rests on the ideas that drew me and so many others to the party in the first place: opportunity, security, justice.

Opportunity Defines America

Opportunity means social mobility is possible—that your children can do better than you if you work hard, play by the rules, and invest in their education and well-being. It’s a version of our country where good jobs are plentiful, dreams are made real by hard work, and government helps clear the way rather than standing in it.

That’s only possible when housing is affordable and good schools are within reach. Americans shouldn’t have to devote their whole paycheck to necessities they can barely afford. Wages must keep up with the price of groceries, gas, and housing. Small businesses need government as a champion, not an adversary.

We need to make sure better jobs are available everywhere—not just in a few coastal bubbles, but also in the towns across the country where so many of us grew up. Government must partner with the private sector to rebuild the middle class and create opportunity for hardworking people.

Our society and economy will be reshaped by artificial intelligence, digital communications, quantum computing, autonomous vehicles, and more. Democrats need to approach these transformations with both an attitude and policies that are optimistic about the boundless opportunity they represent but also careful to protect Americans from their risks, especially for our children and our privacy. The Democratic Party has to build things again, and we need to make sure that Americans are trained for the future that these technologies will bring. It’s a perspective that would reestablish us as a pro-growth party, not solely a pro-regulation party. We are a party that sees exciting and positive opportunities ahead for all of us—and will work to make them come true.

Security Is a Bedrock of National Well-Being

“Security” means much more than the military and national defense. It means you don’t wake up afraid of crime on your drive to work, and you don’t go to bed wracked with worry over your bills.

We should fight for the right of all Americans to be secure in their homes, their communities, and their bodies—safe from violence, supported by effective policing that partners with communities, surrounded by secure borders and immigration policies that respect humanity, and assured of responsible gun ownership and safe schools.

Security also means financial security. Democrats should help Americans keep more of what they earn and save for the future. That means making our economy a fair playing field, so that a day’s work lets you provide for your family, put some money aside for a rainy day, and build wealth.

We should ensure the government is fair and free of corruption. Americans should be confident that they’re playing by the same rules as everyone else, no matter how wealthy or well connected.

Security also has global dimensions. It means we partner with allies, lead with our values, and defend liberty to secure our place in the world. We should build a foreign policy that keeps Americans safe—and understands that diplomacy, development, and aid, along with a strong military, are key parts of that equation.

Justice Is for Everyone

Every day when we open Congress, we say the Pledge of Allegiance, ending with the words “liberty and justice for all.”

The other party says it values liberty, which its members define as freedom from regulation, taxes, and any other constraints on the wealthy and corporations. Our party has focused more on justice, which we define as redressing wrongs to ensure an inclusive and fair society.

True justice is much broader and deeper than purity tests and the “cancel culture” that so many Americans are tired of. A passion for justice is part of what brought me to the Democratic Party—but those purity tests and quick condemnations of different views, had they been in force then, likely would have thrown me out just as I was beginning to consider these new ideas.

To achieve the justice that I’m speaking of, and that the party must advance, requires the freedom to choose our families, our homes, and our futures; to speak our minds and read what we want; and to work through the difficult chapters in our history to make a better future. It means defending due process and fundamental fairness.

But justice is more than the rule of law. Justice, for me and for many other Democrats, is also an economic issue. Justice unfolds—or is thwarted—not just in courtrooms, but in hospital waiting rooms, elementary school classrooms, and affordable housing waitlists.

After all, like many Americans, my conception of justice is rooted in my faith, and in that verse from the Book of Micah. Across the Torah and the Gospels, the message is clear: We must fight for a better life for all, which must include the working classes and “the least of these”—the marginalized, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. Justice is the fundamental way we ensure and protect human dignity and show grace to our neighbors.

The order of these principles—opportunity, security, justice—is important. Democrats must speak to and act on legitimate concerns starting with opportunity and followed by security before they can be heard on justice. Focusing principally on security leads to a velvet prison—a nanny state where you can get by but never have the incentive or ability to thrive, where you will always be safe so long as you never step out of your proverbial front door. If we focus on justice when folks don’t feel they have security and opportunity, they will think we are out of touch and tone-deaf. But if we see justice as the means by which we work on opportunity and security, then we can pursue a pro-growth agenda and a pro-security agenda.

Case Studies: Immigration and Retirement

So how would we apply opportunity, security, and justice in practice? Let’s start with an issue that many Democrats are afraid to touch: immigration.

Our immigration system is broken. A decade of campaign promises and disappointing results from both parties has destroyed the government’s credibility on one of the most important issues to American voters.

What would an immigration policy focused on opportunity look like?

It starts with opportunity for Americans. The government should begin by creating conditions under which citizens can secure good jobs and save for retirement. Right now, many Americans worry they’re fighting a swollen labor pool for depressed wages and few, if any, benefits.

The reality is that legal immigration has long created opportunity for Americans. We’ve seen it throughout our history: Industries flourish on the contributions of immigration. High-skilled and entrepreneurial immigrants—whether they come here on work visas, as students, or as family members—start businesses and strengthen industries that create thousands of jobs for workers across the country. That’s the story of Google and Goldman Sachs, as well as thousands of small businesses.

Another source of opportunity are the immigrants who do work Americans can’t or won’t do in sectors like agriculture and construction. There simply aren’t enough Americans to do these jobs without making our homes and groceries so expensive that they would be out of reach. If immigrants don’t fill these roles, food rots in fields, prices go up, jobs disappear—and everyone suffers. So, if we apply the principle of opportunity, we end up with an immigration policy that brings in highly skilled immigrants and immigrants willing to work in sectors that desperately need them even as it ensures that our borders are secure, so we don’t let in more people than our economy can absorb.

What does security look like in this immigration policy?

Americans feel our borders are endlessly porous, and that our broken system makes it easy for people to cut the line, skirt vetting, and dodge supervision. We need to ensure they know our goal is their safety, a secure border, and laws that apply equally to everyone.

We keep Americans safe by deporting the violent criminals who are most likely to commit crimes again. When deporting everyone is your priority, you don’t actually have priorities. It is not possible to humanely deport the more than 14 million people in this country without legal status or documentation. So, we should focus on those who have committed serious crimes.

Opportunity and security have given us the outline of a policy and the legitimacy and space to now turn to the issue of justice. The fairness and faith that define us as Americans should extend to immigration as well.

A just immigration policy ensures due process, including the opportunity to plead your case before a judge, so that we don’t accidentally deport American citizens or those legally allowed to live in this country. A just policy doesn’t force undocumented immigrants who have been here almost their entire lives to remain in the shadows, nor does it ignore international law on issues such as asylum. None of these principles detract from Americans’ security and opportunity. Instead, they add to them, ensuring the systems we put in place protect Americans and immigrants alike, reflect our values, and drive us toward a future of growth and freedom.

Thinking through an issue, even one as tough as immigration, sequentially in terms of opportunity, then security, then justice creates a policy framework that is understandable and built around Americans. It tells us the boundaries and offers a roadmap to the details. For example, this approach would tell us that we need more funding for immigration judges. That increases opportunity by ensuring that those who do have a right to live and work here can immediately contribute to our economy, creating jobs for Americans or doing the work that Americans won’t. It increases security by making sure that those who shouldn’t be here are deported as quickly as possible. It increases justice by giving everyone the chance to have their day in court—instead of waiting for months or years for resolution or being removed without getting more than a few minutes to explain their immigration claim. It solves problems and positions us for the future.

There’s already a bill in Congress that largely conforms to our principles. It increases funds for immigration enforcement while strengthening legal immigration and speeding up processing time. And it overhauls our asylum system while staying consistent with international law and providing a path to legal status for undocumented immigrants who have put down roots here.

Let’s turn to another issue that consumes voters’ thoughts about economic security: retirement.

People across our nation feel the economy doesn’t work for them. They work hard, but bills pile up and savings don’t. Forty percent of Americans have no retirement savings at all, and many fear they’ll never retire comfortably. Yes, Americans have Social Security, and we must preserve it, but at current levels it simply does not provide enough for a comfortable retirement. The average monthly payment is around $2,000—only just above the poverty line for an American couple.

A policy focused on opportunity means workers shouldn’t feel locked into a job because they’re scared of losing their retirement. Part-time and gig workers need portable, accessible, and generous plans. Small businesses should be able to compete with large firms by offering benefits. Entrepreneurs should be able to take their shot at the American dream knowing there is something in place for their future.

It’s hard to think about retirement without thinking about security. Retirement is financial security for you, your children, and your future. Good retirement planning means less financial stress for seniors and less pressure on adult children, which strengthens the whole economy.

A just retirement system would ensure that all workers can save, not just the wealthy. Today, only a quarter of households with an annual income of under $50,000 have a retirement plan, compared to more than 80 percent of households earning more than $100,000. Racial and educational disparities are also deep. A just solution would extend retirement accounts to every worker, with meaningful tax benefits and employer matching.

Bipartisan legislation to create a better retirement system already exists. It would create portable accounts for workers without employer plans. For lower-income workers, the government would match some of their contributions to make sure they too have enough in retirement. Modeled on the federal Thrift Savings Plan, it would offer robust investment options at low cost.

A commonsense system like this will pay for itself by reducing pressure on other safety net programs. It would reward work and innovation by providing security to a broader range of workers and create wealth that can be passed down to your kids.

A Better Approach to Justice

A lot has been said over the last few years about Democrats’ approach to justice, so I’d like to return to the subject now. When I was young, the twin injustices of the South Bronx and South Africa helped crystallize what I believe. Justice isn’t about making people feel good. Done correctly, it makes a tangible difference in American lives.

Democrats shouldn’t shy away from the foundational call to do justice.

Injustice is also tangible. Voters see it and respond to it all the time. The reason the Jeffrey Epstein scandal resonates so strongly with voters across the partisan spectrum is that it seems to confirm their suspicions that there’s one set of rules for the wealthy and well-connected and another for everyone else. They don’t trust Congress to fix their problems because they think we’re more interested in enriching ourselves through a rigged system than solving problems.

More specifically, they don’t trust Democrats. Donald Trump is the most corrupt President of my lifetime, if not in American history. Yet despite the billions of dollars of blatant graft and self-dealing, Democrats are seen as more corrupt than Republicans by a five-point margin. Among independents, the gap widens to an 11-point difference.

Americans shouldn’t have to worry that we’re enriching ourselves at their expense. Businesses shouldn’t be winning or losing because of the impact they can have on a lawmaker’s stock portfolio. That means we must pass a ban on stock trading for members of Congress.

To be sure, a ban shouldn’t go so far that it dissuades good candidates from running for office. For instance, candidates and officeholders should have the option to move their money into blind trusts rather than divesting completely. But we need to remove even the appearance that members of Congress are engaged in insider trading.

At the same time, we can’t let a stock trading ban distract from the bigger target: campaign finance reform.

Americans would be shocked by the number of hours my colleagues and I spend calling donors, going to campaign receptions, and thinking about fundraising. In the second year of my first six-year term, I was told I had to raise $20,000 a week at a minimum, just to “keep it warm.” It’s a meter in the back of my mind that always needs to be fed. And if I want to spend a weekend with family, or visit with world leaders, instead of planting myself in a windowless room dialing for dollars? Then it’s $40,000 the next week. And that’s for a Democratic senator from a small blue state. It’s worse for House members, or those in hard contests.

To get money out of politics—to give more people the opportunity to run, to secure elected officials from foreign influence, to make our system just—we need to keep pushing for a constitutional amendment that, at a minimum, overturns Citizens United. Frankly, it should go further.

Justice as the Key to Our Futures

Of all the good that would flow from these reforms, one stands out: bringing the voice of the people back to politics. If we want policies that will help people who grow up in poverty in the Bronx or in rural Mississippi, it helps to have elected officials from the Bronx and rural Mississippi. Part of the reason I went to Kenya when I was young was to try and understand different experiences and perspectives—because the one thing I knew was that there was a lot I didn’t know. Relying on wealthy donors and super PACs means too many politicians don’t have to reach for those different perspectives to win their elections. It adds yet another barrier to many Americans making their voices heard in Congress or being elected themselves.

This brings me back to the kind of justice most often described in Scripture: economic justice.

A few years after I graduated college, I started working for the Coalition for the Homeless. I traveled all over the country—staying at homeless shelters, standing at bus depots looking for runaways, and talking to people who’d experienced so much trouble in their lives. Then, in law school, I founded the Delaware chapter of the “I Have a Dream” Foundation, working with kids from parts of my home state that were once just headlines on the evening news to me. Both those jobs changed my perspective. Those headlines about rough neighborhoods and poverty became families I knew and whose hopes I heard about every day. The gun violence and senseless loss that I once knew only as a few solemn seconds on the evening news became vigils I attended and eulogies I gave. Much like what I saw in Kenya and in the South Bronx, there was no moral way to justify what was happening, no credible argument to make that these people somehow deserved their fate.

Then, as now, I often found myself stunned by the sheer weight of injustice. It’s difficult in those moments to see the inverse, which is the possibilities of justice: Health-care and anti-poverty programs that transform lives in urban centers and in rural towns. Food assistance and school lunch programs that allow all children to hear the voices of their teachers instead of the rumblings of their stomachs. Plentiful and affordable housing that gets more citizens of the wealthiest country in the world off the streets and gives them the peace of mind needed to get a steady job and finally start climbing the ladder of success. Environmental justice that improves communities’ health, well-being, and trajectories.

We have to keep trying day by day to make these ideas real, because without justice, America’s promise of opportunity and security remains out of reach.

Sometimes, in our zeal to refute caricatures of Democrats as only caring about the right language and other concerns many Americans think don’t affect them, we forget what our quest for justice can achieve—and that it is what brings so many to our party, including me.

So how can we answer the question with which we began: “When did the Democratic Party stop caring about working people?”

Our answer needs to live up to the promise of opportunity, security, and justice. We focus on the opportunities that will help American families build a future. We defend their security so they don’t have to sit at the kitchen table each week worrying about how they’re going to pay their bills and retire. We make justice real, so Americans no longer wonder why our party seems to have chosen to help some other family instead of theirs.

If we leave behind the weight of culture wars and focus on improving people’s lives, we can start to rebuild the trust we’ve lost. From there, we can rebuild our coalition. From there, we can rebuild our country.