A sleek, modern coffee house in Beverly Hills. Expensive coffee machines hiss and gurgle while patrons in designer clothing tap on MacBooks. Sherlock Holmes sits perched on a high stool at a marble counter, his fingers flying across his phone screen, while John Watson approaches with two elaborately crafted lattes.
SHERLOCK: (without looking up) Twenty-three dollars for two coffees, John. Twenty-three. We could feed a homeless network for a day with that.
WATSON: (setting down the cups) Yes, well, when in Rome... or Beverly Hills, apparently. (taking a sip) Though I have to admit, it's quite good.
SHERLOCK: (finally looking up, scanning the room rapidly) Progressive Activist, Progressive Activist, Moderate trying desperately to appear Progressive, Devoted Conservative poorly disguised in casual attire, Progressive Activist...
WATSON: (confused) Sorry, what?
SHERLOCK: (gesturing subtly around the room) The tribal affiliations, John. They're as clear as tattoos once you know the markers. The woman by the window? Note the canvas tote with the environmental slogan, the posture of moral certainty, the subtle look of disdain when that man in the business suit walked in. Classic Progressive Activist. While the man himself—expensive watch, Fox News playing on his phone, tension in his jaw when he saw the pride flag by the register—Devoted Conservative.
WATSON: (sipping coffee) You can't possibly deduce people's political tribes just by looking at them.
SHERLOCK: (smirking) Can't I? The barista who served you—notice how she corrected you when you said "thanks, man" to her? Gender-neutral, prefers "they/them" pronouns. The tip jar has a sticker supporting indigenous rights. Yet she—they—are working in one of the most economically stratified neighborhoods in America without apparent irony. Progressive Activist, certainly.
WATSON: (rolling his eyes) Fine. Though I doubt it's as simple as just...
SHERLOCK: (interrupting) Oh, I'm simplifying, of course. There was a fascinating report released yesterday—"Hidden Tribes." Rather good methodology. Breaks Americans into seven distinct groups based on their values and worldviews. (scrolling through his phone) I've been cross-referencing it with my own observations.
WATSON: (perking up with interest) Oh, I actually read about that. In the Times, wasn't it? "The Rich White Civil War"?
SHERLOCK: (with sudden heightened attention) You've read it? Well, well, John, you continue to surprise me. (leaning forward) And what did you make of it?
WATSON: (thoughtfully) Well, the core argument seemed to be that American politics isn't really a populist movement as much as a battle between two privileged groups with competing worldviews. Progressive Activists on the left, Devoted Conservatives on the right. Both predominantly white, wealthy, and highly educated.
SHERLOCK: (eyes gleaming) Yes! Exactly! A tribal conflict between elites while the exhausted majority watches in dismay. (stands suddenly, pacing) But the pattern is so much more revealing than that.
Sherlock begins moving his hands as if manipulating an invisible data board in the air.
SHERLOCK: Consider the psychological profiles. The Devoted Conservatives—Hobbesian to their core. Life is dangerous, authority is necessary, boundaries must be maintained. While the Progressive Activists are neo-Rousseauian—human nature is essentially good, but corrupted by oppressive structures that must be dismantled.
WATSON: (nodding) Right, and the article mentioned how uniform the opinions are within each group. On immigration, for instance, something like 90% of one group thinks it's bad while 99% of the other thinks it's good.
SHERLOCK: (excitedly) Yes! The conformity is the key data point! (sits back down, leans in) We're not witnessing reasoned political disagreement, John. We're watching the emergence of secular religions.
A server accidentally drops a tray nearby. Sherlock barely notices.
SHERLOCK: These groups form their identity around their political affiliation. They derive moral meaning from it. Their positions aren't arrived at through individual reasoning—they're adopted wholesale as part of tribal membership.
WATSON: (frowning) But surely people think for themselves...
SHERLOCK: (dismissively) People rarely think for themselves, John. They think they do, but that's just another delusion. (gestures around) Look at this coffee shop. Everyone here believes they're unique, yet they signal their tribal affiliations through identical markers—consumption patterns, vocabulary, moral outrage triggers.
WATSON: (considering) The article compared it to the religious wars after the printing press.
SHERLOCK: (enthusiastically) Brilliant analogy! The medium has changed—social media instead of printed pamphlets—but the human psychology remains. (thoughtfully) Though religion at least acknowledged it was faith-based. These political cults pretend to be rational while exhibiting every hallmark of religious fervor.
WATSON: So if these two groups—Progressive Activists and Devoted Conservatives—are only about 14% of the population combined, what about everyone else?
SHERLOCK: (tapping rapidly on his phone) Ah, the "exhausted majority"—about two-thirds of Americans. Less tribal, more flexible in their thinking. (looks up) But they lack a compelling narrative of their own. That's why they're politically ineffective despite their numbers.
WATSON: (glancing around the coffee shop) I don't see many of them here.
SHERLOCK: (with a half-smile) Of course not. This is Beverly Hills. This is where the tribal elites congregate. (gesturing to their surroundings) Twenty-three dollar lattes aren't for the exhausted majority, John.
A well-dressed woman at a nearby table loudly complains about her almond milk not being organic.
WATSON: (lowering his voice) So what happens next in this "rich white civil war"?
SHERLOCK: (leaning back, steepling his fingers) That's the fascinating question. History suggests three possibilities. (counting on his fingers) One: a new narrative emerges that attracts the exhausted majority and marginalizes both extreme tribes. Two: one tribe achieves temporary dominance but overreaches, triggering backlash. Three: the conflict intensifies until some external crisis forces reconciliation.
WATSON: (concerned) None of those sound particularly pleasant.
SHERLOCK: (shrugging) Change rarely is. Though the data suggests the exhausted majority wants compromise. They're just waiting for a leadership narrative that isn't based on fear and hatred.
WATSON: (finishing his coffee) So what would that narrative look like?
SHERLOCK: (thoughtfully) According to the research, it would focus on abundance rather than scarcity. Gifts rather than deficits. Hope rather than fear. (with sudden intensity) But narratives don't just appear, they're constructed—usually by the very tribal elites who benefit from division.
Sherlock stands abruptly and puts on his coat.
WATSON: (surprised) Where are we going?
SHERLOCK: Nowhere. I've solved it.
WATSON: (confused) Solved what? There wasn't a case.
SHERLOCK: (with a knowing smile) Oh, but there was, John. The mystery of why the world's oldest continuous democracy is tearing itself apart despite unprecedented prosperity. (gesturing dramatically around the coffee shop) It's not economic anxiety or genuine ideological disagreement driving this conflict. It's bored, comfortable elites with too much education and too little purpose, filling the God-shaped hole in their lives with political tribalism.
He tosses a twenty-dollar bill on the counter.
SHERLOCK: (heading for the door) The real tragedy isn't the conflict between these two tribes, John. It's that both sides believe they're fighting a holy war, when really... (pauses dramatically) ...they're just finding increasingly sophisticated ways to signal their status to other privileged people who already agree with them.
With that, Sherlock sweeps out the door, leaving Watson to hurry after him into the bright California sunshine.
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/15/opinion/politics-race-white-tribalism.html