Let the Coaches Lead

I heard an interview this week with Senator Elissa Slotkin from Michigan. I’m no super fan of hers, she’s an establishment Democrat, and my politics lean much further left, but she said something that’s been rattling around in my brain ever since: that Americans are craving “alpha leadership.”

Yuck. I bristle at that kind of phrasing. “Alpha” brings to mind all the wrong things, testosterone, ego, dominance, chest-puffing. But I gradually accepted her point. What we’re craving isn’t dominance. It’s clarity. Confidence. Someone who can stand at the front of the room and say, “Here’s what’s going on, here’s what we’re doing, and here’s why I believe in you.”

What we’re craving is coach-style leadership. It doesn’t needs to be fancy. What people respond to, especially in a moment when so many are feeling cynical or left behind as we’ve seen, is someone who can cut through the noise and just say what’s what. Someone who can connect with people across different walks of life, not by dumbing things down, but by making them clear and human.

Before we go any further, I want to be clear: I don’t buy the idea that we have to abandon identity politics to connect with people. That’s nonsense. Our identities, race, gender, class, background, shape the issues we care about and how we experience this country. They matter, and they should not be sidelined. But I do believe people are craving more simplicity and clarity in how we talk about what we stand for.

That’s what good coaches do. They don’t overexplain. They don’t complicate things just to sound smart. They make the game plan make sense. They speak in a way that pulls the team in, not pushes people out.

The Democratic Party doesn’t always struggle on policy, but I think it’s clear we do struggle on delivery. Most Americans actually agree with the substance of our values: raising the minimum wage, protecting reproductive rights, taxing the ultra-rich. So why does it feel like we package these things in a way that only appeals to big-city folks? And in the meantime, the other side is out there with slogans and chants and five-word soundbites that stick, no matter how wrong or harmful they are.

This is where the coach analogy keeps coming back to me. A good coach rallies the team. They pick a lane, they make it clear, and they keep it moving.

That’s what strong leadership looks like. Not empty confidence or performative toughness, just conviction. Simplicity. A sense that someone knows where they’re going and wants to take you with them. And that kind of energy doesn’t have to come from an alpha man in a suit yelling at a podium. It can come from a mom in jeans. A Black woman in sneakers. A trans leader in a sweatshirt. What matters is the clarity. The steadiness. The ability to cut through chaos without losing compassion.

Of course, it’s not just about having the right message or the right style. It’s also about who gets the microphone.

Trump didn’t claw his way into the national spotlight by sheer force of charisma. He already had a TV show, a real estate empire, a mountain of inherited money, huge social media platforms, and a mainstream media system that saw him as good for ratings. The reason he could sell his version of “alpha” leadership to the public wasn’t just because he sounded confident, it was because the system was set up to amplify him.

That’s the other piece of this: there are coach-style leaders out there right now. Clear, direct, principled, powerful communicators, but they don’t always have the funding, the platform, or the name recognition to break through. Especially if they’re women. Especially if they’re people of color. Especially if they didn’t go to the right schools.

The problem isn’t that we don’t have strong progressive messengers. It’s that our political system, our media, even our social algorithms are rigged in favor of the loudest, richest person in the room.

It takes more than talent or vision to rise in politics. It takes money. Connections. Media attention. The kind of stuff that’s usually hoarded by people who already have power. That’s why a loud, wealthy man with a built-in media platform can amass such a movement while actual working-class leaders never get a microphone.

This country has no shortage of people who are tough, smart, clear-eyed, and deeply rooted in their communities. But they’re not household names, and they’re rarely on TV. Not because they aren’t good enough, but because the gatekeepers aren’t looking for them. That’s the disconnect.

I do think that coach-like voice is out there for Democrats, probably a few of them. But they’re not getting the spotlight. Some may be emerging. But most of them don’t have a billion-dollar media machine behind them. They didn’t marry into money or grow up with a political last name. And the people who do hold the microphone, the DNC, the major funders, the consultants, they keep chasing the same familiar mold: someone polished. Someone “electable” (or so they think). Someone who won’t make anybody too nervous.

We’re so tired of that. It’s not working. And it’s part of why people feel so disillusioned in the first place.

So this is what I’m committed to: I’m going to keep watching for those coach-type leaders, when they show up on podcasts, in local races, in interviews that don’t make the main social feed. And when I see them, I’m going to do whatever I can to amplify them with the platform I’ve got.

And I hope to God we see the Democratic Party do the same. Because if we want something different, we’re going to have to choose something different. And to choose something different, those choices have to be on the table to begin with.