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A new study published in Political Behavior reveals that personal hardships—such as job loss, eviction, or financial distress—are linked to a lower likelihood of voting in the United States. However, these same crises can also push some people to engage in other forms of political action, especially when the crisis is highly politicized, like during the COVID-19 pandemic.
The research sheds light on how disruptions in people’s lives influence their engagement in democracy. While it may seem intuitive that difficult life events would inspire political activity, the study finds the opposite is often true: crises can overwhelm individuals’ time, resources, and attention, making it harder to show up at the ballot box. Yet, under certain conditions, those same crises can act as a catalyst for more targeted political behavior, such as attending protests or contacting public officials.
The researchers aimed to move beyond previous studies that looked at only one type of disruption, like foreclosure or unemployment. Instead, they sought a more comprehensive understanding of how a wide range of personal crises—including financial struggles, health issues, and housing instability—affect participation in both voting and other political activities. With economic insecurity on the rise and more Americans facing precarious conditions, the authors argue it’s vital to understand how these personal realities intersect with democratic participation.
“Political scientists have long studied the political consequences of personal crises, such as widowhood, unemployment, and home foreclosure. Typically, researchers examine one crisis at a time; however, growing up in a poor home, I knew that personal crises often co-occurred. So, I was curious whether the accumulation of personal crises impacted political engagement,” said study author Christopher Ojeda, an assistant professor at the University of California, Merced and author of the forthcoming book The Sad Citizen: How Politics Is Depressing and Why It Matters
To examine this question, the researchers used large-scale national survey data from the Cooperative Election Study (CES) and the Democracy Fund’s VOTER Survey. These datasets included information about both voting behavior and personal crises experienced in the past year. Participants were asked about a wide array of disruptive events, such as losing health insurance, falling behind on rent or mortgage payments, or struggling to pay for medical care.
In the 2020 CES, for example, researchers collected responses on 45 different types of crises. Using this information, they created a “crisis score” for each respondent, reflecting the total number of disruptive events they had experienced. They then compared these scores with whether or not respondents voted, as verified by official voting records, as well as whether they engaged in non-voting political activities such as protesting, donating, or volunteering.
The analysis revealed a clear pattern: people who experienced more non-COVID-related crises were significantly less likely to vote. This held true even after accounting for factors like education, income, race, and previous voting behavior. For example, someone who experienced five crises was about 10 to 13 percentage points less likely to vote than someone who experienced none. This difference is nearly as large as the gap in turnout between White and Hispanic Americans in the same surveys.
“My expectation going into this project was that less powerful groups in society would be more strongly demobilized by personal crises, but instead we generally found that everyone was equally affected, which was surprising to me,” Ojeda told PsyPost.
Interestingly, the effect of crises appeared strongest among those who had previously voted, suggesting that even habitual voters can be knocked out of the electorate by personal turmoil. The researchers theorize that this is due to the strain crises place on limited resources like time, energy, and attention. When people are busy dealing with eviction or medical bills, voting can become a lower priority, even for those who care about politics.
But the study also uncovered important exceptions. When crises were tied to politically salient events—like the COVID-19 pandemic—the effects looked different. People who experienced pandemic-related disruptions were actually more likely to vote and engage in other political actions. The authors suggest that these crises may have increased motivation because they were clearly linked to government decisions, such as public health measures or economic relief policies. In these cases, citizens may have seen political participation as a way to respond directly to the problems affecting their lives.
Beyond voting, the researchers also explored how crises influenced other types of political behavior. They found that personal crises—regardless of whether they were COVID-related—were associated with a higher likelihood of non-voting political acts, including contacting elected officials, attending protests, or working on campaigns. This supports the idea that while crises may suppress generalized participation like voting, they can sometimes encourage more issue-specific or expressive actions.
Notably, these forms of participation were much less common than voting. Still, among those who engaged in them, political interest and turnout remained high—even among those experiencing personal hardship. This suggests that rather than crises simultaneously suppressing some forms of participation and boosting others in the same individuals, different people respond to crises in different ways. For some, hardship makes political engagement feel out of reach. For others, it becomes a motivating force.
“The accumulation of personal crises impairs voting—a political act that is too general to solve whatever crises a citizen might be experiencing—but they increase participation in political acts that can target the crises in questions—such as contacting an elected official or signing a petition,” Ojeda explained.
As with all research, there are caveats to consider. The study relies on observational data, so while the associations are strong, it cannot definitively establish that crises cause changes in participation. The researchers also focused on whether people experienced specific crises but did not measure how severe or long-lasting those crises were. Some disruptions might be temporary and manageable, while others could be deeply destabilizing. Future studies could build on this work by exploring how the intensity or duration of crises matters, or by using long-term data to track changes over time.
Nevertheless, the findings offer important insight into how American democracy functions in a time of widespread economic and social instability. When large portions of the population are grappling with job loss, rising housing costs, and medical bills, they may be less able to participate in democratic life—not because they don’t care, but because they are overwhelmed. In this sense, personal crises are not just private misfortunes; they are also political obstacles that can distort who gets represented.
“This paper focused exclusively on political participation—in other words, how citizens act—and so next I want to study how personal crises shape political attitudes—that is, the way citizens think,” Ojeda said.
The study, “The Politics of Personal Crisis: How Life Disruptions Shape Political Participation,” was authored by Christopher Ojeda, Jamila Michener, and Jake Haselswerdt.
