As this year’s Thanksgiving approaches, political tensions are bubbling up far earlier than the turkey heats the oven. On the podcast The Drill Down, author and commentator Peter Schweizer introduced a new verb for a familiar phenomenon: “kimmeling.” That term refers to the act of cutting off family members at the holiday table—shunning them because of their political views, especially if they voted for President Donald Trump.
Schweizer and co‑host Eric Eggers lament how common this is among left‑leaning families. They point to recent examples, like actress and producer Molly McNearney—who admitted she severed relationships with relatives after they ignored her anti‑Trump emails and voted for him. Even fellow liberal voices seem to cringe; talk show host Bill Maher dismissed McNearney’s stance, calling it a counter-productive “ultimatum” that only reduces someone to a punching bag, not a meaningful participant in discourse.
In today’s climate, Thanksgiving dinner can feel like navigating a minefield of political sensitivities—and some Americans are reacting by ducking under the table. A survey by Scripps News found that most people still find the holiday gatherings entertaining, and don’t view political talk at dinner as inherently disrespectful. Still, 37 percent of respondents admitted they’ll seek a moment alone—stepping out for a walk or hiding in a quiet room—just to escape the chaos.
Schweizer argues the bigger problem isn’t politics itself, but the collapse of civil conversation. “We no longer know how to have conversations,” he says. “We’re all siloed.” He insists political debates could be healthy if they focused on ideas instead of personal attacks. And he warns critics who claim President Trump is a uniquely polarizing figure: “The same people who are triggered by Trump are going to be triggered by the next person.”
But pressure to reopen old wounds isn’t limited to Trump supporters. Some on the left push for a “decolonized Thanksgiving,” framing the holiday around acknowledgments of historical injustices. That kind of approach, critics say, often trips the first domino—turning a time of gratitude into an ideological flashpoint.
Then there’s the cultural fallback: the football game airing at noon. It remains a rare truce—when conversations stall, the game plays. For a few hours anyway, perhaps some families will find their “reset button.”
