By Stu Strumwasser, author of A Real Collusion
Throughout my entire adult life I have identified as a political Independent and always felt like an outsider—although it turns out that I am part of a silent majority. One experiences a strange combination of discordant emotions — a mixture of vindication and regret — when learning that an uncommon lifestyle choice wasn’t necessarily “weird,” or somehow evidence of a character flaw. Maybe I was just a bit ahead of my time during my formative years — but I certainly felt less precocious and more gaslighted, the victim of psychological gut-punches.
I was five years old in 1971, when my family moved to a town called Lynbrook on Long Island. We were a Jewish family, and my parents were told by the real estate agent that Lynbrook had a diverse population, mostly Irish, Italian and Jewish — about a third of each. That was true. However, she failed to tell them that nearly every single Jewish family lived south of Sunrise Highway and their kids attended Lynbrook South Middle School. I went to Lynbrook North. Being one of only two Jewish kids in a grade of around a hundred throughout elementary and middle school never made me feel persecuted, but it always made me feel different. The acknowledgement of that difference was unspoken, but pervasive and constant. When I abandoned religion entirely, around the age of thirteen, it was even worse. Today in the United States, around 30% of us are non-religious, but when I was growing up I sometimes felt like the only nonbeliever in the world.
In 1980, at the tender age of fourteen, I read, “Diet For A Small Planet,” freaked out, and around a week later announced to my parents that I had become a vegetarian. Their response was to threaten that if I didn’t see a psychiatrist, they would refuse to let me get a learner’s permit. From the time I was fourteen until well into my thirties, I could rarely eat a meal without a family member, or a friend, or a waiter pointing out my strangeness. The verbal barbs that were breaded and deep-fried and hidden beneath the veils of jokes seemed relentless. Was it so incredibly weird to be a vegetarian in the 1980s or 1990s? Not really. It was not unusual on Earth — just in Lynbrook.
I turned eighteen in 1984. At the time, most people turning eighteen didn’t give much thought as to which political party to join. One joined the party one’s parents belonged to. We identified with our neighbors and communities. My parents were Democrats… so, of course, I registered as an independent! It’s on the subject of politics and party affiliation that I have felt the most gaslighted and outraged because I am not even part of a large minority — I am a member of the majority — yet the special interests in power have got us believing their bullshit better than any other group of bullies anywhere else in society.
The Democrats and Republicans have several dirty secrets. Here’s a big one: They want independents to feel hopeless. They desperately need us to. They want half the country to think that the “system” can’t change and that voting for an independent or third-party candidate is a waste of your vote. These are the psychological weapons of incumbents and totalitarians, slowly going the way of the dinosaurs while trying to hold their grip on power.
A February 4, 2026 Gallup Report noted that a record-high 45% of U.S. adults (and 56% of Gen-Z voters) now identify as political independents. According to Ballotpedia, on May 29, 2026 the approval rating for Congress sat at an abysmal 17%. With the two major parties only representing about 54% of voters one might expect them to control about 54% of the seats in the House and Senate. Instead, the number is roughly 99.6% (532 out of 535). The disconnect is a product of incredible marketing, powered by massive amounts of money, over a period of decades.
Is it “weird” or unusual for me to want to abstain from one of those two fundraising gangs masquerading as political parties? Am I alone for not joining? No. Just shy of half the country is with me, far more than there are Democrats or Republicans, but many of us just don’t know that. So, know this now, my fellow independent Americans: You are part of the plurality, change is inevitable, the system is fixable, and it only requires a course correction — not a revolution. And that correction is happening right now, in 2026, whether you have noticed it yet or not.
Most social reform movements have a cultural element, and there is precedent for a fictional novel providing a roadmap for political or legislative reform (think The Jungle or even Grapes Of Wrath). So I wrote a book to show readers what a change in our political system could look like. My new novel, A Real Collusion, exposes the cooperation between the Democrats and Republicans to prevent third-party candidates and independents from being heard. It is also the exciting, incredible and (most importantly) plausible story of the man who accidentally becomes the leader of the independent political movement that nearly takes down the two-party system. And now it is actually happening.
With less than four months left until the midterms, several congressional races featuring independent candidates not affiliated with either of the two current major parties (or owned by corporate donors) are competitive. That has not happened before in modern American political history. In a Congress where the Republicans hold slim majorities in both chambers, a few independents could put a small-but-dangerous crack in the windshield of the two-party system. Cracks like that sometimes spider and shatter.
When Jim Jeffords switched from Republican to independent in 2001, he flipped control of the Senate. Toward the end of his career, and during his brief time as an independent, Joe Manchin often held the final vote on key legislation in his singular control. Imagine what a few Jeffords or Manchins might do in 2027.
Now, imagine what power a dozen such independents could hold in 2029.
A Real Collusion explains why change is not impossible; it is inevitable. The tricky thing about change is that it sometimes moves too slowly to observe, and it often happens incrementally, a little bit at a time. It’s still inevitable. And we’re not weird for thinking so.
Stu Strumwasser is a writer and investment professional — and a lifelong Independent. His new political thriller, A Real Collusion, is available on Amazon and other online booksellers. Follow his new Substack at www.substack.com/@stustrumwasser
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