Archive context: This commentary was written before the 2020 United States presidential election. References to candidates describe that campaign period, not the present political landscape. The original essay has been paraphrased to preserve its argument without reproducing attributed or inflammatory wording.

The essay argues that changing the person at the top of government cannot, by itself, dismantle the institutions and power relations that produce inequality.

The election cycle prompted intense pressure to support the candidate presented as the most practical or representative choice. This commentary resisted that framing. Its central concern was that campaigns often treat participation in presidential politics as the primary route to justice, while leaving the underlying operation of state power largely unquestioned.

From this perspective, symbolic representation is not the same as structural transformation. A candidate August break a demographic barrier while continuing policies that disproportionately burden poor communities, Black and Brown communities, migrants, disabled people, queer and trans people, or communities outside the United States.

Representation and political records

The essay examined two prominent contenders in the Democratic primary. It criticized Kamala Harris’s record as a prosecutor and senator, particularly where criminal legal policy affected marginalized communities. The argument was not that identity is irrelevant, but that identity alone cannot settle questions about policy, policing, incarceration or economic power.

It also criticized Elizabeth Warren’s past claims of Indigenous ancestry and the political use of those claims despite objections from Indigenous people. For further context, the site’s earlier discussion of that controversy is available in this archive analysis.

These examples supported a broader claim: voters should evaluate institutions, policy records and material consequences rather than assume that a candidate’s identity will necessarily produce liberatory government.

What elections cannot do alone

The commentary rejected the idea that any single presidential campaign could dismantle white supremacy, patriarchy, colonialism or capitalism. It also challenged versions of feminism that seek access to state power without questioning punitive systems or the effects of military and economic policy abroad.

Its political horizon extended beyond incremental reform. It called for reparative justice, the restoration of land and resources taken through colonial processes, and a redistribution of power away from wealthy private interests. Whether or not readers share that conclusion, the distinction it draws remains useful: winning office and transforming a system are different projects.

Hope outside the campaign

The essay ultimately located hope not in a candidate but in collective work. It pointed to organizers, anti-oppression writers and queer, Black, Indigenous and other people of color reclaiming culture, building political education and creating durable forms of solidarity.

That position did not describe disengagement from public life. Instead, it asked readers to understand voting as one possible tactic among many—not a substitute for mutual aid, labor organizing, community defense, political study and sustained pressure on institutions.

The archive’s enduring question is therefore less about which 2020 candidate deserved an endorsement and more about where political power is built. Presidential campaigns end. The work of challenging oppression, contesting concentrated wealth and creating accountable community structures continues between elections.