TED Talks Daily - Campaigns spend millions to influence voters. This works better | Katie Paris
Episode Date: September 16, 2026Katie Paris quit her career in Washington, DC, to figure out how to make politics feel less like strangers shouting at each other and more like friends looking out for each other. In this practical ta...lk, she reveals why conversations between real people can have a bigger impact on elections than anything millions of campaign dollars can buy. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
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You're listening to TED Talks Daily, where we bring you new ideas to spark your curiosity every day.
I'm your host, Elise Hugh.
When's the last time politics made you feel anything other than exhausted?
If you're drawing a blank, you're not alone.
When researchers at Pew a few years ago asked Americans to describe politics in one word,
just 2% used a positive term.
2%.
That's community organizer Katie Paris.
She says she felt the same.
same exhaustion, so she set out to try and understand politics differently. Katie, who is the founder
of an organization called Red, Wine, and Blue, shares what she learned when she left the world of
D.C. political strategy and organizing and started paying attention to ordinary people, organizing
in their own neighborhoods and their living rooms and backyards. She talks about why she's come to
believe the most powerful tool in politics isn't a message or an ad. It's doing it together with the people
already in your life. When our members reach out to the people they know, not strangers,
voter turnout among the people they contact goes up five to seven percentage points. Now listen,
campaigns spend millions to move that number by a fraction of a point. A conversation between
friends moves it by five. That's coming up right after a short break. And now our TED Talk of the
day. I haven't been on the dating scene since I was 22.
But I still remember the ick.
You know, that feeling when something just completely turns you off
and there's no coming back from it.
Turns out, bad dates are not the only thing with an ick problem.
Politics has it, too.
I'm serious, the data proves it.
When researchers at Pew a few years ago
asked Americans to describe politics in one word,
Just 2% used a positive term.
2%.
Take a moment, really think about it.
When's the last time politics made you feel something other than
exhausted, disgusted, afraid?
I can't remember either,
and I've worked in this business for 25 years.
We're all feeling the ick.
So we're doing digital detoxes,
news cleanses, or just putting our phone in the drawer and calling it self-care.
Good stuff.
But tuning out altogether,
that's when things start getting done to us, not for us,
and we can't afford it.
Not now.
So what do we do?
What if we made politics something people actually want to be part of?
Let me tell you what I've learned.
but first, what I had to unlearn.
My journey starts where all problems go to get solved.
Washington, D.C.
I like to think I was different
than your typical political insider,
and in many ways I was.
I helped start an organization
whose entire job was to watch Fox News
so you don't have to.
I'm proud of that work.
Thank you. It mattered.
But it was all built out of think tanks,
where we thought it was our job to find the right answer
and ship it out to everyone else.
I even helped start a spinoff devoted entirely to message testing.
I truly believed if we could get everyone to repeat
the perfect words we'd win.
And sometimes it sort of barely worked.
Even after I moved to the Burbs outside Cleveland
to start a family around family,
I kept doing the D.C. thing.
I was living in Ohio.
but my head was in Washington.
Everything changed for me in 2018.
The 2016 presidential election
had lit a fire under suburban women all over the country.
Women who had never done anything more
than show up to vote had started organizing,
and they got results.
In a typical midterm election,
the party in power loses about 26 congressional seats.
In 2018, they lost 43, and 40 were suburban.
Even more seats flipped locally in state legislatures.
Some of it was happening in my own backyard.
But I had no idea.
I was too busy dialing into D.C. conference calls.
Even though I had become part of the very demographic,
both political parties spend millions trying to reach.
A suburban mom.
The morning after that,
election, I sat on the floor of my bedroom closet. I just had my second child, and for the first
time, I felt completely out of alignment. Lost. I knew I couldn't be a D.C. operative anymore.
I wanted to find those women. In D.C., they search for real people. Seriously, that's what they
refer to them as in meetings and memos. But they don't really know them, or even really
listened to them. I wanted to. So I called up people that I knew who were working locally
in Ohio politics, and I asked, do you know any of these suburban women who are organizing in their own
neighborhoods? It turns out they had. So I hit the road. I met some over wine, some at a bookstore,
one group over dinner, and every time I thought, these women, I would have hang out with them.
They're fun. They're fired up. And they finish each other's.
sentences. Each time I'd ask, how long have you all known each other? I figured they'd say since
high school or college. Months, they'd say. We've known each other for months. And that's when it hit
me. They didn't organize because they were friends. They were friends because they organized.
Take Tara. She's a single mom. I was introduced to her by one of the women I'd met over wine,
Stephanie. Tara was distraught over the division in our country. She wanted to do something about it.
She just didn't know what yet. So I invited her over to my house along with a handful of other women.
My mom made Palomas. I made her egg casserole, and we set up on my back deck. Before long,
these women were opening up to each other in ways I didn't expect. One woman with a medically
fragile child, who loved dinosaurs as much as my son, shared her sheer exhaustion from battling
the health care system. Another who had been raised hardline Republican was starting to question
everything she'd been taught. There was laughter, and there were tears, the kind that come
when you let your guard down. And in the end, Tara said seven words, I will never forget. If this is
politics, I'm all in. A few years later, Tara ran for school board and won. But this story is not
about just one woman or one backyard. I started meeting women like Tara all over Ohio, all over
the country, women who'd never done anything political before were getting together and getting
organized. And all of them had something D.C. can never get. Real networks, real trust. But
none of them knew about each other.
I wanted to connect them
and help them tap into the power
they were just beginning to realize they had.
So I hired two of the women from my road trip,
and we got to work.
Our first rule, if anything we did or said
sounded like a political party,
we'd throw it out and start over.
Starting with the name,
we called it red wine and blue.
The wine is optional.
Diet Coke,
spin drift, palomas and egg casserole, whatever.
But how things got done needed an overhaul, too.
Traditional campaigns have their volunteers knock on strangers' doors
and call people they've never met.
We do the opposite.
You see, every single one of us here,
you already have a powerful network, friends, neighbors, coworkers,
people from your book club, the school pickup line.
So we start there.
We map out everyone we know who could be with us,
and we take responsibility for making sure they vote.
Then those people talk to their people and on and on.
Sounds simple.
But you don't want to make things awkward.
What do you say to the friend who says,
I don't do politics?
Or the neighbor who says,
voting doesn't matter.
This is where the friendship part comes in.
We have happy hours,
or unhappy hours, depending on the day.
We do trivia nights,
bandbook bingo, we learn together and get to know each other as people.
So when it comes time to have those hard conversations,
we know we're not doing it alone.
We've practiced.
We've gotten brave together.
And that's the thing no political campaign can manufacture.
Not the message.
The nerve.
That alone would be worth it.
But you know what makes it even better?
It works.
When we hired an independent analyst to run the numbers, they ran them.
Then they ran them again.
They thought there had to be a mistake.
I thought there had to be a mistake,
because here's what they showed.
When our members reach out to the people they know, not strangers,
the people they know, voter turnout among the people they contact
goes up five to seven percentage points.
Now, listen, campaigns spend millions to move that number by a fraction of a point.
A conversation between friends moves it by five.
Now, here's the best part.
Friendship doesn't go away after Election Day.
So those same women are working together right now in their communities
to stand up to ICE, take on AI data centers,
and school boards trying to ban books and take down pride flags.
And they come from every side of the aisle.
So, if you're sitting in this room right now thinking, that sounds appealing, but also overwhelming,
I am talking to you.
I know it's a hard moment to feel hopeful.
I feel it, too.
But I promise you, no matter where you live, there are people who feel like you do right
around the corner.
And if you've never done anything political before, you are exactly who this moment needs to.
because the answers are not in D.C.
They are in living rooms and backyards among people who are getting together
and making their communities the kinds of places they want to live in.
And when we do it together as friends who have each other's backs
and show up for each other even when it's hard,
that's what makes politics feel good.
And that's something people want to be part of.
and something that actually works for all of us.
So, find your people.
Get together.
Start talking about what matters to you.
Because as it turns out,
we don't have to choose between taking care of our world
and taking care of ourselves.
If we just do it together.
Thank you.
You were listening to Katie Paris at Ted
Democracy, Philadelphia in
26.
If you're curious about Ted's curation,
visit TED.com slash curation guidelines.
And that's it for today.
Ted Talks Daily is a podcast from TED.
This episode was fact-checked
by the TED research team
and produced and edited by our team.
Martha Estefanos, Oliver Friedman,
Lucy Little, Emma Tobner,
and Tonzika Sungmar Nivon.
Additional support from Daniela
Balo-Rezo, Christopher Faisi Bogan,
Valentina, Bojanina,
Chang, Brian Green, and Lainey Lott.
Learn more at podcasts.com.
I am Elise Hu.
I'll be back tomorrow with a fresh idea for your feet.
Thanks for listening.
