Clickbait Trivia Cannot Save Democracy

Trivia: “The first Native American to graduate from Harvard graduated in what year?”

This question features in Tango, an online game developed by Harvard researchers to decrease political polarization.

If you didn’t get it, the answer is 1665! On the surface, this question assigns inclusivity or even radicalism to Harvard’s history. But the question omits a great deal of nuance: the fact that Harvard built the Indian College to convert Native people to Christianity and attract donors, and that Harvard affiliates were complicit in enslaving and massacring the Pequot tribe.

Tango is an illuminating first impression of Harvard at freshman orientation and parents weekend. Part of an admirable effort to promote intellectual vitality and democracy, the theory of the game is simple: 15 minutes, 15 polarizing questions, one anonymous partner — with diametrically opposing views — in the chat. In order to win, partners must rely on each other to fill partisan knowledge gaps.

But in practice, the game removes all context from the political issues it raises. It dilutes nuanced history to talking points, unintentionally presenting political moderation as an objective worldview. In doing this, Tango thwarts its own proclaimed goals.

To start with the obvious: How can there be open dialogue between anonymous partners with the clock ticking? Even more so, each question presents participants with a new controversy, and no opportunity to argue back. A game devoid of conversation cannot possibly lead to a deeper understanding of political issues.

Tango founders say that the purpose of the game is to foster amicability across party lines, not to change minds. By forcing incoming Harvard students to encounter “uncomfortable truths,” the hope is that they will be more politically open minded.

However, the political nature of the questions can spark emotional reactions, immediately putting participants on the defensive. Take this question for example: “What percent of U.S. gun homicides in 2025 were caused by assault-style rifles?” The options are 3 or 19 percent.

The answer is 3 percent. As liberal participants, we’re only tangentially thankful that our conservative partners knew the answer — that was cleared up by a couple dry DMs in the game’s built-in chat feature. More likely, we’re too busy trying to reconcile the jarring question with our own beliefs. Implicitly, the question pushes liberal players to a more moderate position on gun laws. By omitting the real violence and death that assault-rifles have inflicted, Tango gives us a statistic which minimizes their harm. A commitment to political amicability is a lousy excuse for overlooking countless horror stories of mass-shootings.

In questions like this, Tango perpetuates the irrational logic strewn all over today’s media environment — that a provocative talking point should disproportionately shift a viewer’s stance on an issue. It is a logic that is employed by social media trolls and politicians alike, and one that contributes to the same polarization that Tango seeks to prevent.

By sending the message, “Let’s just all agree a bit more,” the game does little to help us reconcile our disagreements or understand the value systems that underlie them. Tango posits a simple, “there are right answers on both sides,” ignoring the depth and complexity of the issues it seeks to address. It fails because it confuses moderation for meaningful compromise.

To weigh particular arguments over others, participants should broadly and deeply discuss an issue — not one cherry-picked fact in isolation. Instead of disagreement through a screen, participants should be able to speak face-to-face with someone of differing values and opinions.

Tango claims the game’s goal isn’t to reach consensus. But when it’s over, participants are polled for their agreement with several statements, including “conservatives and liberals both make valid points.” Given the game’s marketing, participants know they’re expected to agree. In other words, this 25 minute game made me more moderate.

It would be more practical for incoming students to learn about one another’s backgrounds, the experiences that have shaped their worldview, and the issues they care about most, without being slapped by a list of incongruent facts. For example: Surprise! Barack Obama has Irish ancestry.

Some of the programs that best emphasized this approach to discourse, such as identity trips with the First-Year Outdoor Program and the First-Year Urban Program’s most overtly activist programming, have recently been discontinued. Meanwhile, freshmen completed no fewer than six online modules, none of which we felt were particularly impactful.

We don’t need another isolated fact that contradicts our worldview, we need the time, space, and dedication to expand it — to understand that we can respectfully compromise without moderating ourselves into tepid agreement.

Jacob I. Himelfarb, a Crimson Editorial comper, lives in Hurlbut Hall. M. Kat Levitt, a Crimson Editorial comper, lives in Canaday Hall.