A year of focus groups tells me this: Americans are traumatized

“Trainwreck,” “a mess,” “divided” — when I kick off every focus group to use a word to describe how the country is going, the words are always negative. “Tell me why no positive words?” I ask, even though after 25 years of moderating focus groups — and dozens of nights of groups this year alone — I’m now accustomed to voters’ pessimism. Once a client suggested we start the group by asking what was going well in the country, and participants struggled to come up with something. “Television?” one tentatively offered.

Despite their dour outlook, I still love hearing voters’ insights, their contradictions and even their jokes. I love their suggestions, such as calling a Donald Trump sycophant a “Yes Man,” or wondering if we need a new term for middle class since the phrase now feels like it both “doesn’t exist” and is “too generalized.” I love when they nervously ask me if they can curse (yes) or befriend each other on the way to the parking lot. 

But the role of a moderator has changed as the political environment has worsened. It’s not just pessimism — I now mediate disputes and comfort the grieving. And when voters evaluate candidates, they search for some of what they might also find in a focus group: reassurance that someone will listen to them. In this election cycle, with so much at stake, the lessons from focus groups were clearer than ever.

Voters’ pain is deep and varied. Tears are shed. Politics can quickly become very personal. Participants routinely bring up lost loved ones, legal or marital troubles, children with addiction problems, and dire financial straits. One woman in a group we conducted for AARP cried when recounting not having time to Zoom with her new granddaughter because she needed to work extra hours. Another woman cried thinking about how lonely she had been for any sort of touch since her husband died in the beginning of the pandemic. A respondent turned off her camera to cry for a few minutes after explaining how her family was living in temporary housing. In Texas, respondents — unprompted — used their introductions to say what mass shooting they lived closest to. People of color describe racism at work, or being asked to “show papers” at the grocery store.

Under the weight of our country’s political and COVID traumas, crying in groups has gone from the rare to the frequent.

The demise of Roe v. Wade led to more openness. Despite some last-minute Democratic hand-wringing about discussing the issue, abortion was very much on voters’ minds after the Dobbs v. Jackson decision. Not only did people bring up abortion rights unprompted, but many would openly and graphically discuss their experiences with miscarriages, infertility or abortions.  

Men seemed increasingly comfortable with the topic, too, and some explained they were considering moving because they didn’t want their wives to have a risky, planned pregnancy in a state where abortion was illegal. In the Wisconsin governor’s race, abortion was one of the most important issues driving the vote.

And, not everyone has been waging a culture war. The failure of extremist candidates in the midterm elections reinforces what I regularly hear in focus groups. Not many people seemed motivated by “culture war” topics — whether it’s critical race theory in schools, transgender rights, “cancel culture,” or drag shows. In a summer group for the New York Times Opinion, parents of high school students said they’re more worried their kids are not learning financial literacy or about important times in our history — such as treatment of Indigenous populations or the Japanese internment camps. In a group for Navigator Research — a progressive polling outfit — independents struggled to define “social issues.” One asked, “As in, the kinds of issues you talk about with your friends socially?”

“Personality” helps us connect. But it’s not all divisive topics or personal stories. Focus groups reveal how voters personally connect to a candidate. And successful candidates in 2022 had a personality that helped them demonstrate how they put voters first.  

In Kansas, Democratic Gov. Laura Kelly’s calm, focused approach struck voters as moderate and kind — essential to winning over Republican votes in a red state. To one Republican supporter she seemed like “a grandma giving all her grandkids a dollar for ice cream.” Telling voters what Wisconsin Gov. Tony Evers likes to do for fun — playing Euchre and dancing the polka — immediately struck participants as believable and relatable, and consistent with someone Barack Obama described as “more of a Clark Kent” than Superman.  

“Personality” can mean anything — and there is, mercifully, no one-size-fits-all candidate type. What they have in common is convincing voters they are on their side, compared to opponents more focused on their own ambitions or “scoring political points.”

Focus groups nonetheless have become more challenging. I’m not trained in group therapy or counseling, but that’s what moderating focus groups this past year has increasingly felt like. People are traumatized by American politics today; no matter their background, most feel pained by dysfunctional media, angry Facebook conversations, and corporate special interests making the system feel “rigged.” These concerns are not abstract or ephemeral — they are logical reactions to a political climate that has produced abortion bans, an active anti-democratic fringe, and the high health care costs that regularly bring respondents to tears in a room full of strangers.

Voters have many creative ideas about how to get back from this dangerous time. In a June New York Times Opinion group, some suggested traveling to other countries, getting a passport, exploring other religions, or even paying teachers more. And in our AARP groups, one participant said, “I tune out the news and mow the lawn.” Even after decades in politics, I know there is no simple answer, and I feel some of the same powerlessness voters do.

But one thing I’m sure of: In this time of handicappers, data journalists and forecasters, focus groups serve an important role. “If you did one of these in every community, I think we’d really find out that we’re not as divided as people think we are,” someone said in the same June group. Maybe one day when I ask people how things are going, the responses won’t be overwhelmingly negative. And when voters tell me they feel unheard or invisible, at least I can tell them “Tonight, I’m listening. And everyone else is listening, too.” 

Margie Omero is a principal at GBAO, a Democratic polling firm that this election cycle worked with Govs. Tony Evers (Wis.) and Laura Kelly (Kan.), Sen. Raphael Warnock (Ga.), and with incoming Gov. Tina Kotek (Ore.) and incoming Sen. John Fetterman (Pa.). Follow her on Twitter @MargieOmero.