On February 6, 2026, two powerful voices—Paul Krugman in The New York Times and Esau McCaulley in a separate opinion piece—struck a chord that resonated far beyond the pages of their respective columns. With the Winter Olympics underway and the United States embroiled in a fierce debate over immigration, these writers examined the meaning of American decency, patriotism, and the soul of a nation at a crossroads.
Krugman’s article, "American Decency Still Lives," opens with a sobering assessment of the American electorate. According to Krugman, most voters are not policy experts or ideologues—they’re pragmatic, focused on everyday concerns like the price of eggs and health insurance. "Ordinary people aren’t deeply informed about policy or politics. They have jobs to do, children to raise, lives to live," he writes, highlighting the practical lens through which many view politics. Yet, he notes, this pragmatism can leave voters susceptible to misinformation, such as exaggerated claims about rising crime.
But Krugman does not shy away from the darker side of American politics. He acknowledges that racism, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia remain powerful motivators for some. Still, he draws a sharp line between "political realism and nihilistic cynicism," cautioning against the belief that Americans are too indifferent or self-interested to stand up against injustice.
To illustrate his point, Krugman invokes the haunting words of German pastor Martin Niemöller’s confessional poem, which warns against the perils of apathy in the face of creeping authoritarianism. In Krugman’s view, some architects of the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown—specifically naming Stephen Miller—have twisted Niemöller’s warning into a playbook, betting that most Americans would remain silent if state violence targeted minorities.
Yet, recent events in Minnesota suggest otherwise. Since December 2025, a mass, nonviolent uprising has swept across the state in response to aggressive Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) actions. According to Krugman and corroborated by MPR News, nearly 30,000 Minnesotans have been trained as constitutional observers, with another 6,000 volunteers delivering food and providing transportation for at-risk families. These acts of resistance are not merely symbolic; they are "time-consuming, exhausting, dangerous activism." And yet, thousands of ordinary Americans are stepping up, undeterred by the risks.
Protesters have used cell phone cameras and whistles to document and disrupt ICE operations. Krugman recounts disturbing stories of cars abandoned in the street, windows smashed, their occupants forcibly taken—scenes that have left many feeling troubled and angry. While these grassroots efforts cannot halt every act of brutality, they have, in Krugman’s words, "thrown sand in the gears" of ICE and provoked visible frustration among agents, some of whom have been filmed brandishing weapons at peaceful observers.
The public’s response has been swift and overwhelming. Krugman cites a recent Marist Poll indicating that harsh criticism of ICE and its tactics is spreading well beyond political circles, surfacing in unlikely places from hobbyist forums to professional wrestling matches. The backlash in Minnesota has been both larger and faster than the gradual swell of support for the civil rights movement in the 1960s. "Most Americans are decent people. They intensely dislike seeing brutal repression in their communities, even if most of the targets of this brutality have brown skins," Krugman asserts.
He argues that Democrats, who previously focused their messaging on economic issues like affordability and Trump’s failure to lower grocery prices, can no longer afford to treat immigration as a secondary concern. The brutality of Trump’s immigration policies, Krugman insists, is now a "major driver of opposition to his regime." He urges the Democratic Party to fully oppose these policies—not just for moral reasons, but because they have become central to the political debate and will not fade away, unlike some economic grievances.
Krugman’s analysis is echoed in a different register by Esau McCaulley, whose opinion piece, "At These Olympic Games, Which America Are We Cheering For?" published the same day in The New York Times, explores the complexities of American patriotism in a time of national soul-searching.
McCaulley begins by admitting he’s not prone to overt displays of patriotism—his only flag-themed apparel is a Team U.S.A. soccer jersey. He references Frederick Douglass’s searing 1852 speech, "What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?," which exposed the hypocrisy of celebrating freedom while millions remained enslaved. Douglass’s words, "The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common... This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn," serve as a reminder of America’s enduring contradictions.
Yet, despite his reservations, McCaulley admits to feeling a surge of pride during the Olympics, watching American athletes compete on the world stage. "I experience something approaching national pride when my fellow citizens accomplish feats far beyond my ability," he confesses. This year, however, the pride is tempered by "shame for how our country is treating its citizens—and those who long to be its citizens." McCaulley points to the wrenching images of families torn apart by immigration enforcement, and the government’s attempts to cast immigrants as dangerous outsiders through propaganda.
He laments that America, once a beacon of freedom that attracted scientists, athletes, and artists fleeing oppression, now has leaders who "portray immigrants as violent criminals or cultural oddities with whom the rest of us have little in common." For McCaulley, the idea that some people are unworthy of participating in the American story is both "racist and un-American." Yet, he draws a distinction between the actions of those in power and the character of the American people. "I love the people of this country. And so when I think about supporting our Olympians, I view it as supporting the people of the United States. Team U.S.A. is not Team White House," he writes.
Together, Krugman and McCaulley paint a portrait of a nation grappling with its conscience. On one hand, Americans are rising up in unprecedented numbers to resist what many see as government overreach and cruelty. On the other, the country’s perennial struggle with its own ideals—liberty, justice, and inclusion—plays out in the emotional highs and lows of the Olympic Games and beyond.
While the road ahead remains uncertain, these voices remind us that the heart of America is not found in its institutions or its leaders, but in the everyday acts of courage, decency, and solidarity that define its people.