As the Middle East conflict drags on, so do its political and economic ramifications. Heading into the 2026 midterms, Democrats hope to exploit the Iran War’s unpopularity to retake Congressional seats. And they have reason to believe they can. 

An overwhelming 84% of U.S. adults want the Trump Administration to focus more on the domestic economy, according to an April poll of Americans aged 18 and older by Outward Intelligence.

President Donald Trump ran on economic nationalism, but in 2026 has mostly delivered military adventurism. Now his “America First” promise collides head-on with the reality of an expanding war in the Middle East—one that affects the entire region, and Western economies to boot. 

The public wants restraint. The government is projecting force. The result: America’s allies are watching both with alarm, and Americans are facing a crisis of confidence not seen since the Carter Administration. 

Americans remain generally skeptical of what George Washington termed "foreign entanglements." Nearly six in 10 believe that the U.S. should play little to no role as a global policeman that engages in world affairs through force, the latest Outward Intelligence polling finds. This skepticism predates the Iran War and may well outlast the current conflict, in large part due to the perceived recent failures in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The American mood is increasingly grim. Based on our polling, only one-third of Americans express optimism about America’s global standing. Pessimists outnumber optimists by 16 percentage points.

This negativity seems like a structural shift in national confidence that has real consequences for our global alliances, soft power, and domestic cohesion. The themes of President Jimmy Carter’s 1979 “crisis of confidence” speech ring true in 2026, and they are further amplified by social media in our modern context.

For instance, Carter highlighted how the Vietnam War had eroded national pride. “We were taught that our armies were always invincible and our causes were always just, only to suffer the agony of Vietnam,” he said. 

And when Carter said, “We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation,” he could be speaking about the situation today.

Long before the Iraq War or the Great Recession or contemporary concerns about AI job loss, Carter described “a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will.” At the height of the 1979 energy crisis—one with stark parallels to the current situation—and right before his speech, only 26% of Americans approved of Carter’s handling of the situation.

Pollsters and political pundits are right to wonder about the Iran War’s midterm impact. When Carter faced a public this dissatisfied, he did not fare well. The bigger picture is that the current conflict and its impact are not singular, though. They are the latest in a long line of crises that reveal something deeper about the American people.

Forget Trump or Israel or the Strait of Hormuz for a moment. What Washington would be wise to confront is an overarching trend: a general, growing decline in American pride, similar to what the country experienced under Carter.

The Americans we polled express little to no confidence in the future of our nation or the leaders elected to consider future generations. Even short-term military wins in Tehran or Venezuela do nothing to reverse the general sentiment that today’s America pales in comparison to that of generations past. 

A change in direction seems crucial. It also seems possible—either from different leaders or leaders who learn to speak and act differently. In the U.S., pessimism is a bug, not a feature. As I survey a country that has appeared to stop believing in itself, I have learned that, for most people, the mindset can change.

There is historical precedent for a proverbial “vibe shift.” In the early years of the Reagan Administration, for example, hope returned to the nation. Most Americans expressed optimism about the years ahead. President Ronald Reagan’s approval rating hovered around 70% in 1981.

Optimism is not the province of any particular party. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, public trust in government rebounded under both Democratic and Republican presidents. And after 9/11, trust in the American government briefly rose to 60% of all citizens. Both painful and happy moments can bring us closer together—whether it’s a foreign attack or a sustained period of economic growth. 

But for now, we have to reckon with our deeper, darker malaise. And we must understand that a crisis of confidence can also be temporary. The night is darkest before the dawn.