Hope, Fear and Jealousy
How does one man consistently get it right in Earth’s most unpredictable political stage play?
Meet Allan J. Lichtman, a historian with a seemingly magical Midas touch who has been calling US Presidential Elections with eerie accuracy since 1984.
While most political pundits and pollsters scramble to keep up with the tides of public opinion, Lichtman calmly unveils the future, his predictions as steady as a seasoned fortune teller’s gaze into a crystal ball. But how does he do it? Is he a modern-day Nostradamus, gifted with supernatural foresight, or is something deeper at play here?
Lichtman’s method
Lichtman’s method, often shrouded in mystery, is not based on mere guesswork or gut feeling. His secret weapon? A system he devised called ‘The Keys to the White House’. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill analysis but a framework built on 13 true-or-false statements, each designed to capture the underlying currents of a presidential race.
These ‘keys’ range from the economy’s performance to social unrest and from incumbency advantages to the absence of scandal. If six or more of these keys turn against the party in power, Lichtman predicts it will lose the presidency. This model, grounded in historical data rather than transient public sentiment, has turned Lichtman into a political seer whose predictions cut through the noise of modern-day electioneering.
Imagine being able to foresee the outcome of elections while others falter, blinded by polling missteps and media frenzy. In a world where digital misinformation has become the norm and where climate change can even skew weather patterns, how can one man stand firm in his ability to forecast something as volatile as American politics? Lichtman’s system doesn’t just defy the odds; it redefines them, offering a clarity that seems almost otherworldly in a time when certainty is a rare commodity.
Lichtman predicted the following elections since 1984 well ahead, publicly using mainstream and credible media.
1984: ‘How to Bet in ’84’
1988: ‘How to Bet in November’
1992: ‘The Keys to the White House’
1996: ‘Who Will Be the Next President’
2000: ‘The Keys to Election 2000’
2004: ‘The Keys to the White House’
2008: ‘Forecast for 2008’
2012: ‘Preliminary Forecast for 2012’
2016: ‘Trump is Headed for a Win’
2020: ‘He Predicted Trump’s Win in 2016, Now He’s Ready to Call 2020’
Except for a couple of predictions of the popular vote, he predicted all others with remarkable accuracy. I have met pollsters who could predict an election just a week ahead of the election day. This is easy for experienced and masterful pollsters, campaigners, and political leaders. However, Lichtman, the 13 keys, and the statistical model predict before anyone can comprehend an election campaign.
High stakes ahead
As Lichtman, at 77 years of age, prepares to unveil his prediction for the 2024 showdown, the stakes are higher than ever. The contest between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris is set to be one of the most polarising in history, with a nation deeply divided and the world watching closely. Will Lichtman’s keys guide him to yet another correct prediction? And if so, what does that say about the nature of power, politics, and the very fabric of American democracy?
This Harvard-educated Professor, who was an expert witness in over 100 civil and voting rights cases and authored 11 books, remains a towering figure in geopolitical discourse. His predictions capture the public’s imagination and influence how we understand the dynamics of elections. While others chase trends, Lichtman leans on a well-honed system that has weathered the storms of political upheaval.
In a world where even the seasons and weather patterns seem to change unpredictably, Lichtman is a Mozart of political predictions, reminding us that, sometimes, the most profound insights come not from the noise of the moment but from a deeper understanding of history’s patterns, human psychology, leadership decision-making, behaviour, and the sentiments of the public at large.
So, as we get closer to the next big election, one question looms: will Lichtman get it right again? And if he does, what else might he see that the rest of us are missing? The answers may lie not just in the future but in the very methods Lichtman has perfected over decades – techniques that have turned him into an almost mythical figure in political prediction.
Lichtman’s keys in South Asia
With all due respect to Lichtman’s 13 keys, which have cracked the code of American Presidential Elections for decades, one might wonder how this framework would fare in South Asia’s complex, diverse political landscape. In this region, elections are far from straightforward.
Think about India, where the election process is a Herculean task, spanning weeks and involving 900 million voters, one million polling booths, all from various backgrounds. How can a system designed to predict outcomes in a political environment like the US handle the wild diversity of South Asia? Here, the influence of religion, the deep roots of caste, the vast stretches of land, poverty, the growing middle class, unemployment, and the varying definitions of charisma and leadership play a role that would challenge even the most sophisticated models.
Yet, for me, despite these challenges, Lichtman’s 13 keys offer more than just a prediction tool – they provide a fascinating lens through which we can analyse elections and the broader dynamics of governance and political strategy in South Asia.
In a region where the very definition of being a leader can differ from village to village, Lichtman’s approach could offer a structured way to think about the elements that truly matter in shaping public opinion. Imagine applying this framework not just to foresee electoral outcomes but to understand how governments can maintain stability, enforce checks and balances, and craft political campaigns to resonate across such a vast and varied population.
Lichtman’s keys were more than just a prediction tool – they became the foundation for something I had been working on for seven years. What works in a political campaign? How do you craft a theory that sounds good on paper and delivers results when it matters most? This is no small feat in South Asia, where the stakes are always high and the playing field constantly shifts. Lichtman’s framework, focusing on the fundamental forces that drive political change, offered a way to approach these questions systematically.
Moreover, it challenged me to think about strategy in a way that goes beyond the usual clichés. What works in shaping public opinion? Is it the message, the messenger, or something deeper, something more structural?
As I reflected on these questions, I realised that while the 13 keys might not be directly applicable to every aspect of South Asian politics, they offer a starting point – a way to begin dissecting the complexities of this region’s political landscape.
They encourage us to look beyond the surface, ask what drives political change, and recognise that in politics, as in life, the unseen forces often have the most power. With this framework in mind, I embarked on a journey to explore what works in South Asia and build a strategy to navigate its challenges and tap into its unique opportunities. The journey is far from over, but with Lichtman’s keys in hand, the path forward is a bit clearer.
A universal framework
Seven years ago, a close friend of mine – a political campaign veteran with 40 years of experience who quietly influenced the rise of many leaders – and I embarked on an ambitious journey.
We set out to craft a theory tailored explicitly to the complexities of South Asian politics, fully aware that what worked in one part of the world might not necessarily apply elsewhere. Our approach was as unassuming as we were, yet it was profound. Through countless hours of discussion, debate, disagreements, and analysis, we shaped a concept that would eventually transform how we viewed political campaigning.
We were not looking to rewrite the rules; instead, we sought to distil the essence of what drives human behaviour in politics. Our insights became the foundation of what I now believe is a universal framework that can transcend borders and cultures: the interplay of hope, fear, and jealousy.
As I watched elections unfold across the globe – from Taiwan to Pakistan, Bangladesh to the UK, Russia to South Africa, India, and most recently Sri Lanka – I saw patterns emerge. These were not just random electoral outcomes but manifestations of more profound, primal emotions. It became clear that hope, fear, and jealousy were not just abstract concepts but powerful forces that could be harnessed to influence political outcomes.
Hope drives people to believe in a better future and rally behind a leader who promises change. On the other hand, fear can be a potent motivator, pushing people to act in defence of what they have in order to avoid a perceived threat. Jealousy, often overlooked, stirs up resentment and the desire to level the playing field, whether in economic terms or social status. Together, these emotions create a dynamic that can be both predictable and volatile.
All above elections I covered extensively for public consumption and some private coverage helped key decision-makers, both in politics and business, with meaningful discourses which led to action. After all, politics shakes business and business shapes politics. When I reflect upon all elections, the hope, fear, and jealousy was universal.
When leaders tap into hope, they inspire; they offer a vision of what could be, often galvanising those who feel disenfranchised. Leaders like Lee Kuan Yew, Nelson Mandela, and John F. Kennedy instilled hope. In the great Lee Kuan Yew, I saw a leader who was both feared and loved, a rare combination for a leader, and I called it the epitome of leadership.
The danger of promising hope in a campaign is the credibility of the message of hope. Can a leader honour the commitment of hope? This is a critical question in developing a presidential campaign. In 2016, Donald Trump hit the nail on the head with ‘Make America Great Again’. If he had delivered, would Joe Biden have won the election in 2020?
When invoked, fear can unify people against a common enemy or perceived danger, whether it’s economic instability, cultural erosion, or an external threat. Meanwhile, jealousy is the undercurrent that can turn the tide unexpectedly. It can lead to movements that demand equality, reject the status quo, or push back against perceived elitism.
A fear psychosis was at play in the Indian election. There were slogans against Premier Narendra Modi, calling him a dictator, pro-Hindu and anti-Muslim, and a failure, whilst his opponent Rahul Gandhi was projected as a product of nepotism, a danger to the economic and political stability of India. Closer to election day, narratives were about vote counting malpractices to changing election results, and the fear not only crashed the hopes of people but also crashed the stock market.
But post-election, I witnessed that most of the stories had disappeared. People are getting on with their lives. Why were Indians angry, jealous, and some praying for hope only at election time? Why not in the aftermath?
When Sheikh Hasina won the election in Bangladesh this year, she lasted only a few months in her seat as the people’s fear broke the threshold, and once peaceful street protests turned violent after the Government forces killed hundreds of student protesters.
Understanding the human condition
In the coming years, as we see more elections unfold and more leaders rise and fall, this framework will prove itself time and time again. It’s not about manipulating people; it’s about understanding the fundamental drivers of human behaviour and how they intersect with the political landscape.
As we delve deeper into how hope, fear, and jealousy work in real life, we can unlock the secrets to winning elections and understanding the complex and often contradictory nature of our societies. The journey of political strategy is as much about understanding human nature as it is about understanding politics, and this is a path worth exploring.
Gautama Buddha’s teachings remind us of something fundamentally human: the presence of anger, jealousy, and delusion within us all. These emotions are not just fleeting feelings but deep-rooted forces that shape how we see the world and, crucially, our leaders.
Who among us hasn’t felt a pang of jealousy, a surge of anger, or the fog of delusion? These emotions are personal and collective, influencing the masses and steering the direction of entire societies. But how exactly do these primal instincts manifest in the modern world, particularly politics and leadership?
Consider how people lined up for days to buy the latest iPhone in the early days or digital conversations when someone’s views clash with another’s. It’s not just about the product or the opinion – it’s about what lies beneath. Anger fuels those heated online debates, jealousy drives the obsession with having the latest gadget that others flaunt, and delusion clouds the judgement of those who believe that ownership equates to status. This is the human condition and is a powerful force in shaping public opinion.
Harnessing emotions in the political arena
Now, let’s take this into the political arena. Creating hope is not just possible – it’s a strategy.
Look at Modi’s campaign in India. Modi didn’t just run for office; he tapped into a deep well of hope within the Indian electorate, offering a vision of stability and prosperity that resonated across the country. His opponent Gandhi too offered a similar narrative, but in politics the campaign does not end with communications, it goes well beyond to alliances, partnerships, and allies, including geopolitical actors.
Hope can be manufactured, moulded, and directed, and when done effectively, it can lead to sweeping electoral victories.
But what about anger? That, too, can be stoked and channelled. Think back to the mass protests in Sri Lanka in 2022 or Bangladesh in 2024. In both instances, anger over economic mismanagement, corruption, anti-democratic moves, and a lack of accountability led to regime changes, with leaders fleeing the country. Anger isn’t just an emotion; it’s a catalyst for change, and when it reaches a tipping point, it can be unstoppable.
Fear is another tool that can be wielded with precision. In Taiwan, the fear of geopolitical uncertainty has driven voters and leaders alike to act in ways that protect what they hold dear. The spectre of conflict, losing sovereignty, or economic collapse can create an atmosphere where fear dictates decisions, both in the voting booth and in the corridors of power.
And then there’s jealousy. Can you create jealousy? Absolutely. It’s perhaps the most subtle yet potent of all. When political campaigns highlight the successes of some to contrast the struggles of others, they stir up feelings of envy. Jealousy brews when leaders flaunt their achievements or when governments spotlight the disparities between regions or classes. This quiet but simmering emotion can lead to unrest, demands for equality, and, in some cases, upheaval.
In the end, the emotions that the Buddha spoke of are not just inner battles; they are the very forces that drive political movements, consumer behaviour, and social change. Understanding how to harness these emotions – whether to inspire hope, ignite anger, instil fear, or provoke jealousy – is critical to understanding how the world operates today. It’s not just about predicting outcomes; it’s about shaping them.
The key to a successful political campaign
Too much fear paralyses a movement. It creates a culture of anxiety and distrust, where people are so overwhelmed by what could go wrong that they lose sight of what could go right. Campaigns that lean too heavily into fear may drive voters to the polls, but they risk alienating them in the long run, creating a legacy of dread rather than progress.
Similarly, an overabundance of hope can lead to disillusionment. Leaders who promise the moon and stars without acknowledging the hurdles set themselves up for failure. Hope, when unchecked, can become a double-edged sword, leading to impossible expectations that, when unmet, turn the very optimism that once energised a campaign into a source of bitter disappointment.
Jealousy, too, is a dangerous emotion when left unchecked. If a campaign stirs up too much envy, it can breed resentment, dividing communities rather than uniting them. A strategy that overplays jealousy may spark initial engagement but also risks creating deep societal rifts that are difficult to heal, ultimately leading to instability rather than solidarity.
This realisation led me to an important conclusion: the key to a successful political campaign isn’t found in the extremes of hope, fear, or jealousy but in their balance. It’s about finding that delicate equilibrium where these emotions intersect, creating an aspirational narrative grounded in reality. A leader who can navigate this intersection – who can inspire hope while acknowledging legitimate fears and subtly addressing the undercurrents of jealousy – has the potential to craft campaigns that resonate deeply with the electorate.
Imagine a campaign that instils hope by offering a realistic vision of the future, acknowledging the challenges ahead but assuring the public that together, they can overcome them. This same campaign would recognise and address the people’s fears, not by amplifying them but by providing concrete solutions and a sense of security. And when it comes to jealousy, the campaign would highlight fairness and equality, ensuring that everyone feels they have a stake in the promised future.
This is the balance every successful campaign strives for. It’s not about manipulating emotions but about understanding and respecting them, and weaving them into a powerful and sustainable narrative. Leaders who master this balance won’t just win elections – they’ll earn the trust and loyalty of the people, creating a foundation for lasting change.
Sri Lanka’s critical moment
Sri Lanka is on the brink of a pivotal moment in its history as it heads toward the Presidential Election on 21 September to choose its ninth executive president. The atmosphere is charged and the campaigns are steeped in the classic trio of political emotions: hope, fear, and jealousy. Yet, despite the enthusiasm, none of the candidates seems to grasp the critical balance among these forces – a balance that could determine not just victory but the nation’s very future.
I shared this column with Prof. Lichtman for his guidance and a man of wisdom could bring more clarity to the above thought process.
The 22 million Sri Lankans are yearning for a leader who can steer the country through the next five years and offer clarity amidst the current confusion of party lines, geopolitical sensitivities, and the overwhelming field of 39 presidential candidates. At least six stand out as serious contenders, each trying to outmanoeuvre the other in a race that has become a cauldron of fear-mongering, lofty promises, and envy-stoking.
As the campaign intensifies over the next five weeks, it’s clear that fear is playing a dominant role in the strategies of most prominent candidates. Whether it’s fear of economic collapse, fear of social unrest, or fear of losing national identity, these narratives are being pushed hard, creating a sense of urgency and anxiety among the electorate. But is this the path to victory or a more profound division?
On 21 September, Sri Lankans will not just choose a president; they will select the emotion that will define their future. Will it be a future built on fear, hope, or jealousy – or will one candidate finally strike that elusive middle path, offering a vision that resonates with the full spectrum of human experience? The next few weeks will be critical in determining which of these forces will reign supreme and shape the destiny of this beautiful island nation that I call paradise and my home.
