The Party of Critical Thinking
I’m Voting No on Prop 50. Why? It doesn’t really matter actually.
You might disagree. You might do your own research and come to a different conclusion.
That’s fine. That’s actually the point.
California has one statewide measure on the ballot this cycle.
It would temporarily suspend the state’s independent redistricting commission and hand congressional map-drawing back to the Legislature for the next few election cycles.
Most voters will approach it in one of three ways:
Skim the voter guide summary.
Check which organizations they trust are saying yes or no.
Vote however their party says to or skip it altogether because, honestly, why bother?
It’s one measure. The outcome feels predetermined.
And I get it. We’re busy. We have jobs, families, lives…endless scrolling to do. Reading ballot measures sounds boring.
But here’s the really cool thing: the cost of being informed has basically dropped to zero.
An Entrepreneurial Approach to Democracy
I work with small business owners: people who make a living by questioning assumptions. They don’t accept “that’s how we’ve always done it” as an answer. They ask: Is there a better process? Where’s the hidden leverage?
What if we brought that same curiosity to voting?
Here’s what I did in about twenty minutes.
I copied the full text of Prop 50 into ChatGPT and asked it to explain it in plain English. Then I asked follow-ups:
What are the strongest arguments for and against?
Who benefits and why?
What are the long-term consequences?
Then I looked up who was funding both sides and asked myself:
What kind of system do I want to live in twenty years from now?
That’s all we need. Just curiosity and a willingness to slow down for half an hour.
Treat your vote like you’re at least scrutinizing a used car listing and at least Google the VIN.
The Problem With Political Tribes
Research shows we don’t form beliefs and then look for evidence; we pick a side and then build arguments to defend it.
That’s why voting along party lines feels so good. It doesn’t feel lazy; it feels loyal. It feels like being part of a club: a belief system with colored merch, inside jokes, and an enemy everyone agrees to hate. There’s comfort in belonging, in toeing the party line and feeling like you’re one of the “good guys.”
But political passion in 2025 isn’t showing up to canvass or debate ideas anymore. It’s reposting propaganda and conspiracy theories about what the other side supposedly did thirty years ago or what they said last week, aggressively taken out of context. It’s outrage theater, algorithmically rewarded.
If your stance on every issue perfectly matches your party’s talking points, with no internal friction, you’re not thinking. You’ve been programmed. Because critical thinking isn’t predictable. It’s uncomfortable. It’s about realizing the side you chose might be wrong about some things and that maybe, no one in this system is really free to act in good faith, not even the ones who want to.
And for the record: I’m not a Democrat. I’m not a Republican. I think both parties suck. The only party I belong to is the Party of Actually Reading the Thing Before I Vote On It.
Outcomes vs. Systems
Prop 50 asks a question most voters avoid:
Do you care more about winning this round or protecting the integrity of the process long-term?
California’s independent redistricting commission was one of the few times a government voluntarily limited its own power. It worked because it took map-drawing away from the people who benefit most from drawing maps.
Suspending it, even “temporarily” says something bigger: that rules only matter when they want them to.
And yes, Texas gerrymandered. Yes, Republicans have abused redistricting. But matching bad behavior doesn’t fix it; it normalizes it.
If every side breaks the rules because “they started it,” we end up in a never-ending cycle where everyone’s too busy trying to “win” to notice the game’s falling apart.
That’s not democracy. That’s dysfunction.
What Modern Citizenship Looks Like
Entrepreneurship and democracy have the same business model: they only work if you do.
In business, you adapt or you die. You fix systems when they break, or at least try. You don’t just repost about them.
Politics should work the same way. But we treat it like content: scrolling, reacting, sharing takes we didn’t write, then wondering why it keeps getting worse.
Democracy isn’t a subscription service; it’s a company we all co-own. And this level of neglect is poor management.
Don’t let anyone—left, right, red, blue, or otherwise—run your operation for you.
The stakes are high. The tools are free. The excuses are gone. Let’s tighten up the org chart.
That’s what citizenship actually looks like.
