Let’s Throw Some Spaghetti at the Wall

Trust in democracy hasn’t just eroded, it’s ruptured. The train has left the station. What we’re living through now, rising authoritarianism, civic disengagement, deepening division, is the consequence of that collapse. And yet, our responses still move like we’ve got time.

All over the country, trust-building work is happening. Dialogue groups. Youth-led initiatives. Multifaith collaborations. Local leadership efforts. Each one a spark. But they’re too often boxed in by outdated models: slow pilots, narrow metrics, multi-year funding cycles designed for predictability, not urgency.

That might have made sense in a more stable time. Not now.

The problem isn’t just that people distrust each other, it’s that many no longer believe democracy can deliver. They see a system that doesn’t represent them, protect them, or respond to them. And when that trust fractures, social trust follows. People retreat. Cynicism rises. And authoritarianism doesn’t just feel possible, it feels inevitable.

And yet, on the ground, there’s extraordinary work. Educators. Artists. Organizers. Faith leaders. People who keep showing up when institutions don’t. They're not building trust because the system is strong. They're doing it because it’s failing.

There’s something beautifully tragic about it: local trust-building is thriving because institutional trust has collapsed. The vibrancy of the grassroots only reveals the brittleness of the structures it’s trying to hold up.

So what if we responded to this moment with the urgency it actually demands?

What if we stopped slow-walking toward reform and started experimenting toward renewal?

We need a spaghetti against the wall moment.

Imagine a $200 million discretionary fund, not for polished proposals or fully staffed initiatives, but for fast, messy, community-rooted ideas. A civic innovation fund that moves quickly, trusts practitioners, and balances accessibility with rigor, supporting everything from raw grassroots concepts to bold plays by established CSOs. Failure isn’t disqualifying. It’s part of the process.

Because yes, some of it will fail. That’s the point.

Democracy innovation should look like a startup portfolio, not a nonprofit checklist. Try ten things. Three might work. One might take off. But nothing shifts if we only fund what already fits the mold.

The real risk isn’t failure. The real risk is doing nothing while the cracks widen.

If people no longer believe democracy is worth participating in, if the systems feel rigged, irrelevant, or performative, then careful isn’t going to cut it. 

So here’s the call:

• If you’re a funder: What are you willing to back that hasn’t been pre-validated?

• If you’re a civic builder: What would you try if failure didn’t disqualify you?

• If you believe democracy is worth fighting for: What are you willing to risk?

The moment demands boldness, not because it’s safe, but because it’s necessary. Let’s throw some spaghetti and see what sticks.