


Patients often tell me what went wrong in their last round of therapy. “I felt better after venting,” one said, “but nothing in my life ever changed.” That is the trap of bad therapy: mistaking momentary relief for progress.
That is also what America is watching in Washington today. The shutdown may be framed as a budget fight, but it is just as much about performance. Lawmakers air grievances, storm out and claim victory on television. Like patients caught in a cycle of venting, they confuse expression with change. The country is left anxious and stuck. A shutdown is Washington’s version of screaming into a pillow. It relieves tension but solves nothing.
The illusion is familiar. Venting feels like progress because it eases pressure in the moment. But left unchecked, it keeps people stuck. I often see patients who have spent months with therapists who indulged complaints without accountability. They left sessions feeling lighter, but their problems remained exactly the same.
Washington is following the same script. Leaders rage on social media and cable news but avoid the harder work of compromise, trade-offs and keeping the government open.
The costs of this political catharsis are real. Each shutdown chips away at public trust and broadcasts dysfunction abroad. Citizens stop believing leaders can solve problems. In therapy, patients who remain trapped in venting often conclude that therapy itself “does not work.” In politics, the public begins to think the same about democracy.
Good therapy never stops at catharsis. It turns emotion into responsibility. A patient may be right to feel angry at her boss, but real progress begins when she sets boundaries, has hard conversations, or makes a plan to leave. Venting validates feelings. Responsibility changes lives. Politics requires the same discipline. Disagreement is natural and even healthy, but only if it leads somewhere. Progress happens when leaders argue, negotiate and still keep the country running.
Shutdowns are the opposite of progress. They are avoidance, the political equivalent of slamming the door. It feels satisfying in the moment but leaves the real problem untouched.
In my practice, I see the damage avoidance causes. A young professional complains about workplace slights but never risks a direct conversation with her manager. Venting substitutes for action, leaving her smaller and more stuck than before. Washington is modeling the same behavior at scale. Leaders repeat grievances, feed outrage and declare the other side hopeless. They perform anger instead of solving problems. Venting may feel like leadership, but it is really avoidance dressed up for television.
What makes this shutdown especially corrosive is that it reflects a broader cultural shift. Venting has become the national language. On social media, outrage is a currency. People post angry rants, get likes, and feel accomplished as a result. At work, employees share frustrations with colleagues but avoid confronting supervisors directly. In universities, students demand “safe spaces” where they can air feelings without the discomfort of hearing opposing views. The common thread is the same: lots of expression, little responsibility.
In therapy, I see how easily people get stuck in this loop. One patient told me she spent hours every night texting friends about her boss’s unfair treatment. The venting made her feel validated, but it did not change her circumstances. Only when she shifted from venting to accountability — keeping records, scheduling a direct conversation — did her work life begin to improve. Venting felt safe, but responsibility created change.
Politics is caught in the same cycle. Lawmakers rail about the other party, point fingers and recycle old grievances. The theatrics make them feel righteous and keep their supporters engaged. But no real progress follows. If anything, the cycle deepens. Each side grows more entrenched, and the public grows more cynical.
Shutdowns were once unthinkable. Disagreements were fierce, but leaders still kept the government open. Compromise was understood not as betrayal but as the work of governing. Today the ethic has flipped. Venting pays. Responsibility does not. A fiery floor speech goes viral. A compromise earns criticism.
The result is politics that feels good in the moment but leaves the country weaker. It tells Americans that dysfunction is normal and tells the world that America cannot govern itself. Adversaries who see Washington paralyzed are emboldened. Allies who rely on America’s stability begin to doubt it. Weakness at home projects weakness abroad.
Venting is easy. Governing is hard. Only one moves you forward. Washington has to choose.
Jonathan Alpert, a psychotherapist practicing in New York City and Washington, is author of the forthcoming book “Therapy Nation.”