This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

When the polls looked scary before the conventions, I made my peace with that by telling myself that a Donald Trump presidency would be a test of the resilience of our political institutions. While finding consolation there was a stretch, it was easier for me than for most, because I teach and write about regime change, about countries that have recently changed their political systems, often towards democracy, and that have to cope with challenges to newly-created institutions and have to learn the discipline of accepting whatever the election brings.

Now what I was fearing has become reality, and I return to that idea: This will be a test, a challenging and scary test, for our institutions — our century-and-a-half-old tradition of respect for electoral results and peaceful politics, the formal institutions created by our Constitution that channel and limit the exercise of democratically won power, the rights enumerated in that Constitution, and the norms that many — but perhaps not most — of us have internalized, of respect for the dignity of our fellow human beings.

What must we do to begin meeting that test? First of all, we must proudly accept the election results, in the presidency as well as the House and the Senate. While our opponent and his supporters may have recklessly tossed around the evidence-free accusation that the election is rigged, we recognize that roughly half of the citizens who cast votes chose him, and that these votes were distributed in such a way that the mechanisms of our Electoral College put him into office. I emphasize that our acceptance must not be grudging, but proud. We accept the results of democratic elections even when they do not go the way we like. We accept that nearly 60 million Americans chose the man we opposed, and while we may have doubts about the wisdom of their choice and even about the motivations behind that choice, we emphatically support their right as our fellow citizens to make that choice.

What do we do after that? Here it gets harder, or at least more complex. There are at least three ways in which we can support the institutions of our American democracy. One is in our everyday lives, where we will choose to live according to our own standards, ranging from respect for facts and science to caring about others. An important part of this is that we must pledge to protect the rights of the vulnerable wherever and whenever we can. If there are to be greater threats to the marginalized and oppressed we as individuals and in groups must stand up for them — consistently, stubbornly, doggedly.

The second way in which we can support our institutions is, paradoxically, by making demands on them. We shall demand that our institutions operate as set out in our Constitution, in our laws, and in implicit norms developed over the years. Governmental bodies — from courts to congressional committees — must fulfill their legally assigned roles, making sure that democratically won power is exercised according to the rules, guarding against abuses of that power, and investigating evidence of abuses if the need arises. The media, also a crucial part of our institutions, have an equally important role. Here, as citizens, we can resolve to support the media that serve as watchdogs honestly and effectively, that provide us with both intelligent analysis and serious investigative reporting.

And thirdly we must support our democratic institutions by focusing on the promise that democracy always offers. There will be another chance, another election. What we can do to make that outcome of that next election more to our liking we will figure out as we go. The important thing is to not turn cynical, to not reject the democratic political game as inherently flawed because this time it produced an outcome that appalls us. The most important test of our institutions is met in the enthusiasm and the faith with which we continue to play this thing called democracy.

Marjorie Castle, Ph.D., is an associate professor of political science at the University of Utah.