Breaking the Two-Party Stranglehold: Why America’s Political Binary Is Killing Democracy

From John Quincy Adams to Charlie Angus, voices past and present warn that our duopoly fuels corruption, impunity, and climate collapse and why ranked-choice voting might be the only way out.

In the grand experiment of American democracy, the most enduring flaw may be the one baked in from the beginning: the relentless gravitational pull of a two-party system. What began as a balance between Federalists and Democratic-Republicans has calcified into a duopoly so dysfunctional, so compromised by corporate interests and existential fear, that it now enables authoritarianism under the guise of choice. The two-party system doesn’t protect democracy, it strangles it.

John Quincy Adams foresaw this danger nearly two centuries ago, warning, “There is nothing which I dread so much as a division of the republic into two great parties… This, in my humble apprehension, is to be dreaded as the greatest political evil under our Constitution.” His fear was that factionalism would turn politics into a battle of loyalty rather than governance, a prophecy we now live daily.

Consider the current moment: a convicted felon and adjudged rapist sits in the White House, wrapped in delusion, wading deeper into criminal conspiracies and cover-ups. Donald Trump, already impeached twice, now stands accused of shielding one of the darkest scandals in modern history, the Jeffrey Epstein network of elite sex trafficking, and of weaponizing the Department of Justice to do it.

And still, a swath of voters and elected officials will defend him, not because they believe he’s innocent, but because they believe the other side is worse.

This is the logical end point of binary politics. The two-party system doesn’t produce accountability; it produces loyalty tests. Every scandal becomes a Rorschach test of partisan allegiance. And right now, redistricting battles are laying bare just how far both parties will go to entrench themselves, gerrymandering districts to dilute opposition votes, cement their own power, and pre-determine election outcomes before a single ballot is cast. These tactics, deployed in Texas, New York, and beyond, prove that the duopoly’s highest loyalty is to itself, not to voters.

The “deep state” mythology pushed by Trump loyalists like Tulsi Gabbard exists precisely because the two-party system feeds on paranoia. When one side starts losing grip on reality, the other is forced to either appease it for political survival or risk being cast as the enemy of the people. The result? A captured state, where both parties are too afraid to break ranks and too entrenched to reform.

The term “deep state” originated in Turkey and Egypt to describe an entrenched shadow government, military, intelligence, and economic elites operating outside democratic control. In the United States, the phrase was popularized in fringe right-wing circles before being adopted wholesale by Trumpworld, where it became a convenient label for any institution, official, or journalist who challenged the regime’s narrative. In reality, America’s bureaucracy is not some unified conspiratorial cabal, it is a sprawling, often inefficient, network of civil servants, many of whom have served through multiple administrations with professionalism and apolitical intent.

The American “deep state” myth functions as a catch-all scapegoat. It turns every lawful check on executive power into evidence of persecution. It frames the FBI, the DOJ, the intelligence community, and even the Congressional Budget Office as enemies of the people unless, of course, they’re doing Trump’s bidding. It allows demagogues to deny reality, discredit whistleblowers, and delegitimize democratic oversight.

And where are the Democrats? Often weak-kneed, frequently outmaneuvered, and terrified of being called partisan even in the face of fascism. Just like Republicans, they are beholden to corporate donors and willing to manipulate district maps to protect incumbents. Calls to “vote blue no matter who” echo across liberal spaces like a civic prayer, while the party presides over the same structural injustices, climate inaction, and foreign policy failures as their rivals. Redistricting is not simply a GOP abuse, it’s a bipartisan sport.

Outside America’s borders, the world is watching and pushing back. In Canada, MP Charlie Angus has emerged as a forceful critic of U.S. authoritarianism, urging a grassroots boycott of American goods and travel as a pro-democracy act. As Angus put it, “We are polite people, until we’re not. And one thing we don’t tolerate is fascists. If you threaten our sovereignty, if you try to bully our democracy, we will hit back, and we will hit back where it hurts, economically.” His call connects the dots between political corruption, climate destruction, and elite impunity, and it resonates globally.

The choice voters face in the U.S. is not democracy—it’s managed decline versus accelerated collapse. That’s why structural reform like ranked-choice voting (RCV) is urgent. RCV allows voters to rank candidates in order of preference—first choice, second choice, third choice, and so on. If no candidate receives more than 50% of first-choice votes, the candidate with the fewest votes is eliminated and their votes are redistributed to the next choice on each ballot. This process repeats until one candidate has a majority. By removing the fear of “spoiling” an election, RCV empowers voters to choose the candidates they truly support without handing victory to the “greater evil.” It fosters coalition governance, encourages more civil campaigning, and can help break the stranglehold of the duopoly.

RCV is already in use in Maine and Alaska for statewide elections, as well as in dozens of cities including New York City, San Francisco, and Minneapolis. In each case, it has broadened candidate pools, reduced negative campaigning, and given voters a stronger voice. It is not a cure-all, but it is a structural shift that opens the door to a more representative and accountable democracy.

So why do Democrats and Republicans oppose it? Democrats often argue that RCV could confuse voters or suppress turnout in marginalized communities, though critics note this can be addressed with proper voter education. Some fear it could fragment their coalition, making it easier for Republicans to win. Republicans, on the other hand, frame RCV as overly complex and expensive to implement, and often claim, without evidence, that it’s designed to disadvantage conservative candidates. In reality, both parties resist RCV because it dilutes their power, disrupts safe-seat incumbency, and opens the door to viable third-party and independent challengers.

John Quincy Adams also reminded us, “Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone, and you may cherish the sweetest reflection that your vote is never lost.” His words challenge us to break free from fear-based voting and reclaim the idea that democracy is meant to represent conscience, not party survival.

Until reforms like RCV take hold nationwide, the redistricting fights will keep proving the same truth: the two-party system protects power, not people.