Why in the world would anyone enter public service in 2021?

After all, the scenes have become familiar: someone shaking with rage approaches the lectern. They start by berating the local school board or town council for following public health advice. Then, the conspiracy theories begin. Ordinary citizens serving their communities are accused of being part of a deep state plot, or being in the service of dark, unseen paymasters. Some come home to death threats in their email inboxes or on their voicemails.

The polarization that characterizes so much of American society has seeped into even the smallest stages for power.

As I found in my research, some people are drawn to power more than others, like moths to an irresistible flame. Power-hungry people are more likely to put themselves forward to rule.

Thankfully, this has been less of a problem with school boards and other (often thankless) local public service posts that come with a small paycheck, if there’s any compensation at all.

Put yourself in the shoes of a concerned parent or committed citizen who is thinking about running for local office to make the schools better or to improve public safety. Now, it’s not just about the time commitment or the fundraising, but you also have to contemplate the possibility of death threats, anonymous abuse online, even people harassing you and your family outside your home.

Such considerations, long recognized at the national level, rarely carried over to community involvement. That dividing line has become blurred.

Look at the extremes, in places where politics has been even more toxic than it currently is in the United States.

In the 1850s, William “Boss” Tweed ran the Tammany Hall political corruption ring. The Tweed machine used violence and intimidation to ensure victory. Unless you were one of Tweed’s corrupt cronies, running for office became far less appealing because it came with the serious risk of financial ruin or violence. Anyone interested in virtuous public service simply bowed out.

Or take Thailand, for example. It’s a place where civilian politicians are regularly overthrown by generals in military coups d’état. Candidates who say the wrong thing end up in prison, their assets confiscated. As one promising member of Thailand’s elite put it to me during a recent research trip, “Why would I go into public service? That’s where you lose everything.”

That viewpoint is widespread and the consequence is predictable: Talented, good people stay far away from politics. This effect exists anywhere politics is a dangerous, potentially costly game to play. At the local level in particular, any elevated risks quickly render public service unattractive

If threats and abuse become a normalized part of school district and town council meetings, then the people who step forward for those posts in the future are more likely to be focused on power or, worse, to be sympathetic to those peddling conspiracies and making threats. Good people will simply do something else.

When community-oriented people don’t want power, the worst can waltz right into those posts instead, to the collective detriment.

Videos of people abusing local public servants should worry all of us. And unless we reduce the toxicity and make public service attractive to a broader chunk of the population, our future leaders are going to be worse than they are now.

Brian Klaas is an associate professor of global politics at University College London.