The Danger of Abstraction: From Climate Discourse to the Federal Workforce
How our reductive narratives are warping policy and politics
Abstraction is our shortcut for understanding the world. We take intricate, real-world issues and reduce them to neat slogans, broad generalizations, and simplified narratives. It helps us make complex topics both legible and compelling. But it can also rob important discussions of their practical focus, or provide rhetorical cover for bad-faith actors.
I’ll start with an example of the first problem: how abstraction can trap us in unproductive debates. I’m often invited to speak at events framed around the question of whether development is possible without fossil fuels. I’ve grown weary of this particular debate—not because it’s unimportant, but because the framing is flawed, pitting climate action against development in a circular, surface-level way. The answer is both obvious (unlikely in the short term, feasible in the long term) and sweeping (it will require action on all fronts: major tech innovation, capital deployment, and sociopolitical transformation). And yet, we keep asking the same question. Why?
I think I’ve finally pinpointed the source of my frustration with this discussion—its reliance on abstraction. In climate discourse, energy—particularly from fossil fuels—is often reduced to emissions, detached from its fundamental role in society. But before fossil fuels become emissions, they keep medical equipment running in hospitals, fertilize land to feed billions, and power the factories that produce essential goods. Sublimating energy into emissions makes it easy to talk about eliminating fossil fuels without confronting the vast, life-sustaining systems they currently underpin.
To be clear: this isn't a defense of fossil fuels—it’s a recognition of the scale and stakes of the transition ahead. Moving away from fossil fuels isn’t just about dismantling an industry—it's about systematically rebuilding the infrastructure of modern life.
Dehumanizing the Public Sector
The Trump administration’s sinister attacks on the federal workforce rely on a similar abstraction—turning real people doing real work into a nebulous, faceless “swamp” of lazy, money-wasting, woke bureaucrats living large in Washington D.C.. The concrete details of who federal workers are and what they do couldn’t be further from this caricature:
80% of federal workers live outside Washington, D.C. (For example, the federal government is the largest employer in Kansas City).
A third of federal workers are military veterans.
Most federal employees work in Veterans Affairs, Homeland Security, and the Department of Defense.
Federal employment accounts for only ~5% of government spending.
Just as we separate energy from the systems it sustains, we abstract federal workers from the veterans they serve, the borders they protect, the human lives they save, and the diverse communities they are a part of. This abstraction is a form of dehumanization that paves the way for the cruel treatment of committed public servants.
The Left’s Mistake: Fighting Abstraction with Abstraction
A word of warning to progressives: abstraction cannot fight abstraction. Fighting reductive abstractions with our own vague terms and concepts is a weak strategy. The backlash against DEI efforts provides a telling example—when complex goals and interventions become reduced to catch-all buzzwords, they lose their meaning and become easy targets.
In the second Trump era, we need to be more—not less—concrete. We must clearly articulate who and what we are defending—not just “science” but the millions of jobs and industries it sustains; not just “the federal workforce” but the veterans processing disability claims, the researchers developing medical treatments, and the meteorologists tracking deadly storms. We also have to be honest about where the value cannot be demonstrated, and where inefficiencies exist (notwithstanding that DOGE may be using this concern as cover for a more sinister political takeover of the civil service). By speaking in concrete terms, we not only define problems more clearly but also humanize the people involved.
Whether in energy debates or political fights, abstraction often serves as a tool for erasure and manipulation. If we want to shape the future—of the climate, the economy, or democracy—we can’t afford to speak in vague generalities while others weaponize simplifications to mislead and divide. The only way to fight distortion is with precision. We need to name the stakes, expose the trade-offs, and tell the full story—not just the parts that fit neatly on a placard or a tweet. Because if we don’t, someone else will—and their version of reality won’t be one we want to live in.
Insightful, clear, and compelling - thank you, Rose!