Cedars, October 2020

Fall 2020 14 the generic mental model we’ve built up for capital-L Liberal or capital-C Conservative. Instead of conversing with people, we bounce words off of monolithic caricatures constructed for our criticism. The people we’re really arguing against don’t even exist. Further complicating this are our information bubbles and online echo chambers that only let us see the worst version of the other side — the way my team chooses to portray them, rather than how they present themselves. This is why it matters to seek out the best and fairest-minded representatives of those we disagree with; the algorithmwon’t send us to them automatically. Political grace requires that we aim not only to be understood, but to understand. Listening helps us see those good intentions we assume. It is not only a sign of respect, but a prerequisite to making sure we’re actually talking about the same thing. Methods are not goals One reason these conversations are so sensitive is that politics is closely associated with morality. It’s not just about what I think, but what I believe. This is why it’s easy for me to interpret your attack on my politics as an attack on my identity, not just on my opinions. What’s more, we often fail to distinguish between goals and methods. Even if you and I agree that a particular issue is a problem, we probably disagree wildly on how to solve it. This discrepancy then becomes grounds for why I can and even should question your motivations, honesty and character. Your counter-plan is evidence of a lack of intelligence and/or morality. My response is not only smart, but righteous. You’re perpetuating the problem I’m trying to fix. In reality, however, we probably both recognize that the problem exists; we’re just coming at it with a different toolset. For instance: 1. We may disagree on the root issue causing the problem. Is police brutality a systemic problem or just a few “bad apples”? 2. We may have a different ranking of priorities that shapes our solutions. How do we balance protection of borders with compassion for refugees? 3. We are shaped by our different experiences of the world. Are views on gun control affected by proximity to emergency response teams in urban and rural environments? 4. We are influenced by the information we consume. How prevalent is fraud in the election system? 5. We may hold divergent core beliefs. Is humanity capable of improving? None of that means one of us is a bad person. We can both have good goals that result in completely opposing policy. Most people believe what they do for a reason. Productive conversations help us get to what those reasons are. Political grace enables openness. It requires us to think more deeply about why it is we really differ. Finding those reasons won’t mean we suddenly agree, but it might make it easier for us to show grace to one another when we don’t. “Inasmuch as it depends on you…” The writer Samuel James said, “True neighbor-love between people with competing ideas is possible only when we accept that 1) humans are not reducible to their ideas (a truth almost totally inaccessible on social media) and 2) truth, beauty, and goodness are not reducible to whose ideas win.” What happens when someone refuses to accept those terms? I’ve found from experience that most people are willing to engage with nuance when given the chance. However, most is not all . For those who are ready to fight and die on every hill, politics may be a closed avenue for engagement. There’s nothing wrong with deciding the relationship is more important than the issues. It matters that the other person knows that you care about themmore than you care about politics. If anything, cultivating that care might even give you the credibility to engage on the issues again in the future. This shouldn’t be the goal, but it is a possibility. Ironically, stepping back from politics nearly always makes it easier to engage on political issues. This is because, despite what the media and your adrenaline levels tell you, politics isn’t actually the most important thing. Regardless of whether you care about politics, though, it does matter that you have friends who disagree with you politically. Living your life in an echo chamber removes nuance from the conversation and leaves you vulnerable to group think. Moreover, it’s a testimony about whether our political differences really matter. We often talk about politics — and political conversations — using the metaphor of a battle. But if we’re thinking in terms of win or lose, the real fight has already been lost. As much as I’ve talked about blue vs. red, us vs. them, that narrative is a lie. It’s a set of labels, and reality is much more complicated than the categories we put people in or the story we tell about society. When we believe we are divided, we act accordingly. There are many forces and institutions invested in seeing that cycle perpetuated, but in reality, we are far more together than the world and social media would have us believe. Internet creator Hank Green said, “Many people will say that this kind of moderation will only weaken ‘our side.’ That we need energized, angry people because that energy and anger (and fear) translates to votes, which is how change happens. But frankly, I’m not sure if I should worry more about the hatred or the politics at this point.” If we justify hatred with politics, we’ve lost sight of what matters. You should not assume that someone who disagrees with you hates you. But as a Christian, you are called to show grace even if they do hate you. However, I would contend that grace is far more likely to give weight to an argument than it is to detract from it. Truth and love are not mutually exclusive. Empathy is not agreement, kindness is not compromise, and grace does not make us weak. The way we conduct these conversations matters. If we want our political conversations to matter, they have to be based in something more transcendent than politics. Anger comes from fear, but for the Christian, fear is no longer on the table. Neither defensiveness nor hostility is necessary, because our hope isn’t in this shakeable system. That more ultimate hope is what empowers us to be generous with grace. The present political climate leaves little room for nuance, and the exclusion of nuance leads to the exclusion of grace. Both are necessary if we want to do this well. Breanna Beers is a senior Molecular Biology major and the Editor-in-Chief of Cedars. She loves exercising curiosity, hiking new trails, and citrus tea.