Pass the Turkey… not politics

In recent years, the fourth Thursday in November has become something of a battleground. What was once the most unifying day on the American calendar — a day suspended from commerce and conflict — is now routinely subjected to academic deconstruction, cultural apology, and petty partisanship.

Thanksgiving is not merely a holiday about turkey and football; it is a distinct celebration of the values that built Western Civilization: faith, family, resilience, and the recognition of Divine Providence. So this year, we must reject the four-course meal of grievances and embrace the radical acts of gratitude and grace.

To understand Thanksgiving, one must look past the caricatures and toward the reality of 1620. When the Mayflower arrived, it carried more than just families seeking survival; it carried the seeds of ordered liberty. Before they set foot on land, the Pilgrims signed the Mayflower Compact — a covenant of self-government under God:

“[We] solemnly and mutually, in the Presence of God and one another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil Body Politick, for our better Ordering and Preservation, and Furtherance of the Ends aforesaid: And by Virtue hereof do enact, constitute, and frame, such just and equal Laws, Ordinances, Acts, Constitutions, and Officers, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general Good of the Colony; unto which we promise all due Submission and Obedience.”

This was a uniquely western innovation. In a world dominated by the divine right of kings and the power of violence, this small band of separatists sought to establish a society based on consent and mutual law in the wilds of an untamed land. This specific lineage of thinking — stretching from the Forum, to the Magna Carta, to Plymouth Rock, and eventually to the Constitution — is what separates the West from historical tyranny and human failing.

For this, we can all be thankful.

However, preserving this heritage requires us to be more than passive observers. That means centering our gratitude on the things that really matter and eschewing the politics of division that have crept to our Thanksgiving table. 

You don’t talk about money, politics, or religion (or the Dallas Cowboys) over dinner. Yet, in 2013 the Obama administration endorsed breaking the norm by providing talking points for supporters to have “The Talk” about the Affordable Care Act over pumpkin pie. The president himself later reduced dissenting relatives to the caricature of the crazy uncle — a prop to be “corrected” between bites of corn casserole. 

The uninvited guest of politics has only become more pronounced. A 2024 survey published the American Psychiatric Association revealed that one in five adults (21%) have become estranged from a family member, have blocked a family member on social media (22%), or have skipped a family event (19%) because of disagreements on controversial topics.

The best of our society has always held that the family is a “little platoon” independent of the state — a place for rest and tradition, not activism or agitation. We shouldn’t be arming ourselves for a political battle across a table covered in turkey-shaped butter molds and the good china. 

So reject the invitation of this unwanted guest. Instead, embrace gratitude.

G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”

Conservative philosophy has always understood that society is fragile. Prosperity is not the default state of nature; it is the hard-won result of work, order, and values. When the Pilgrims celebrated that first harvest in 1621, they were not celebrating excess; they were giving thanks for survival.

By pausing to be grateful, we acknowledge that we are inheritors — of a family, of a community, of a civilization we did not build alone. We acknowledge that our rights come from God, but our path forward is developed and protected by the works of men and women. Gratitude for this effort — and the opportunity to play a part in its advancement — is the antidote to the poison of permanent revolution.

While it requires no effort to tear down straw men or mock the beliefs of family members. It is much harder, and much more necessary, to build, to preserve, and to give thanks. America is not perfect, just as the West is not perfect, just as families aren’t perfect. But the American experiment remains the greatest effort in human history to align the laws of man with the God-given rights of the individual.

Tomorrow, let’s pass the turkey and pass on the politics. Let’s look upward in profound gratitude rather than inward in selfishness.

Publius Pax is a tenth-generation Bucks Countian, political consultant, and author.