A Method for Navigating Politics in 2018

We live in weird times. With the gulf between left and right, it’s difficult to agree on policies, motives, or even facts. Our heated language labels others as “evil,” a “mob,” or (I heard this at a rally) belittles opponents as “dogs with fleas.” Dehumanizing and cutthroat tactics have accomplished little, if anything, in persuading voters but have proven triumphant in driving us back to our partisan corners in some sort of foaming-at-the-mouth, rabid fury. We post black and white memes on social media with zero nuance, we reduce arguments from the opposition to frail straw men, and we forget our friends and family are more than their voting record.  

“Finding common ground” or “getting on the same page” is admirable, but feels naïve in our current political climate. It’s tough to identify a starting point for discussion on issues like abortion, immigration, taxes, healthcare, or guns. Instead of pushing forward in our enfeebled quest to the promised land of “middle ground” (which often doesn’t exist), we should enact the principle of charity. This method “requires interpreting a speaker's statements in the most rational way possible and, in the case of any argument, considering its best, strongest possible interpretation.”[i]

In practice, it looks like this:

1. While suspending our own beliefs, we seek a sympathetic understanding of the new idea or ideas. 
2. We assume for the moment the new ideas are true even though our initial reaction is to disagree; we seek to tolerate ambiguity for the larger aim of understanding ideas which might prove useful and helpful.
3. Emphasis is placed on seeking to understand rather than on seeking contradictions or difficulties.
4. We seek to understand the ideas in their most persuasive form and actively attempt to resolve contradictions.  If more than one view is presented, we choose the one that appears the most cogent.[ii]

These provisions don’t dispose of our convictions but work to see the world from a different vantage point. They can foster the rare and precious civil debate, marked by our ability to “acknowledge [the] good in the position we disagree with.”[iii]

Even when we are listening to some far-out conspiracy theory about the federal government poisoning alcohol during the prohibition, President Truman hiring Nazis to win the space race, or Scientologists infiltrating US intelligence agencies, the principle of charity forces us to reckon with the humanity of the speaker and acknowledge their concerns as something authentic to their reality.

Because let’s be honest, most of the time when we are listening to a political opponent speak, we reduce them to an idea while we take inventory of the counter-attacks we've amassed from Facebook videos. We’ve created an environment where we assume the worst in others instead of realizing we’re all doing the best with what we have.

We should fight for change.

We should fight for justice.

We should fight against dehumanization.

And the best way we can achieve these ends is by seeking to understand instead of being understood.

Grace and Peace

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[i] Normand Baillargeon: Intellectual Self-Defense. Seven Stories Press 2007, p. 78

[ii] https://philosophy.lander.edu/oriental/charity.html

[iii] Frances Kissling quoting Sidney Callahan during her interview with Krista Tippett for the On Being Podcast

Why Facts Don't Matter

Something that discourages me is that epistemology, or the science of how we know things, claims that rational, empirical thinking has very little to do with our decision making. Check out this excerpt from an article in the Atlantic:

“…From an evolutionary perspective, there are more important things than truth… you hear a growl in the bushes that sounds remarkably tiger-like. The safest thing to do is probably high-tail it out of there, even if it turns out it was just your buddy messing with you. Survival is more important than truth... Having social support, from an evolutionary standpoint, is far more important than knowing the truth... And of course, truth gets more complicated when it’s a matter of more than just “Am I about to be eaten or not?” …The natural environment of human beings, like the sea for dolphins or the ice for polar bears, is information provided by others, without which they could not forage, hunt, choose mates, or build tools. Without communication, [there is] no survival for humans.…Having social support, from an evolutionary standpoint, is far more important than knowing the truth about some facts that do not directly impinge on your life.”[i]

I’m dry-heaving a little bit.

Our brains are masters at creating a story, particularly our own story, where we are the protagonist, trying to achieve an ultimate goal by overcoming some great conflict. Any jerk who stands in opposition to our goal inevitably wields the mantle of the hated antagonist. 

You are the epic hero, Odysseus, striving to make it back home to Penelope.

You are Katniss Everdeen, working to liberate the 13 districts.

You are Harry Potter, working to stave off He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

This means we see ourselves, whether we admit it or not, as a rational agent in this mysterious, rich, and complex world, abiding by the Facts and the best ideas.

But in reality, we make decisions according to our social context. If we’re located in a progressive environment where all of our coworkers wear “I’m With Her” shirts, eat vegan chili every Tuesday, and opt for deodorant-free lifestyles to reduce their carbon footprint, the data shows[ii] that we will most likely subscribe to their musky, free-loving ways in order to be part of the tribe.

We’re social apes that need interaction with other humans to survive, no matter how introverted we are: A sense of belonging is of paramount importance for every person. Whether the community you aspire to belong to is your family, friends, coworkers, or bloggers, our ideals align with who we want to be. 

Even if you have wardrobe full of MAGA hats that you press and lint roll every night, if you were to move to an urban area with more diversity, odds are your politics would begin to shift a little, too.

It happened to me.

I grew up in a loving, conservative household with intelligent, hard-working parents, but after going to a liberal school, earning a degree in religion where I came in contact with Muslims, atheists, Buddhists, and Hindus, I got a job in a profession that primarily benefits from progressive legislature. It only makes sense that my ideas would lean left. My ideas and beliefs shifted with my experience.

We have to be honest with ourselves: We are products of our environment, and that has serious ramifications.

I love this quote from Richard Rohr:

We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking.[iii]  

If we grew up in the South with particular political and theological views, those ideas would most certainly be different if we grew up in the North or in Afghanistan. And how would those particular political and theological views shift if we befriended people from a different social context than our own? While the numbers aren’t absolute, they trend toward inclusivity and acceptance of the “other” when we live and interact with those who are different from our tribe.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not advising anyone to throw their faith away. I’m encouraging us all to understand that our beliefs, ideas, and politics are primarily grounded in our social context, not facts. What that means is that we should look to dissolve the boundaries between us, make friends and have conversations with as many different types of people as possible so our tribe is as colorful and variant as the world we live in. From this point, we can have a deeper and broader perspective of how the cosmic clock of reality really ticks.

Remember this: when you look at data and statistics, engage books or news, numbers may not lie, but the interpreters of those numbers certainly do. The best thing we can do to center ourselves in reality is to live as broadly and deeply as we can and let new thoughts and ideas emerge. Work against your brain’s own bias about how it encodes and tags new information by making decisions and seeking experiences that make the whole world, as corny as that sounds, part of your unique and beautiful identity.

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[i] Julie Beck, “This Article Won’t Change Your Mind” https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/03/this-article-wont-change-your-mind/519093/

[ii] David McRaney "How Your Address Changes Your Politics https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2015/08/how-your-address-changes-your-politics-120899 and I refuse to treat data as a plural noun.

[iii] Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs

Listen Well: Thoughts on Race, Religion, Sexuality, and Privilege

For most of my life, I haven’t been vocal about politics. It seems like when we talk about politics or religion, it winds up being an all-you-can-eat character assassination with both sides feeling morally superior to each other. It’s best not to say anything, right? Just walk into your next holiday dinner and shout the following words like a shrapnel grenade, hurled into the heated world of your family’s politics: 

1. Trump

2. Benghazi 

3. Tax Plan

4. Obamacare

5. Global Warming

6. Black Lives Matter

7. Feminism

8. Muslim Ban

9. Alt-Right

10. Privilege

I imagine you can already see the vein in your Uncle Frank’s forehead throbbing like a cartoonish stubbed toe. So, for the most part, we say nothing. 

The problem with saying nothing is that it’s a benefit of being comfortable. There aren’t many policies that negatively affect me (directly). 

I’m a man. 

I’m white. 

I’m straight. 

I’m protestant. 

I’m, relatively speaking, well off. 

Why would I need to contribute to the conversation about the #metoo movement, #blacklivesmatter, LGBTQ rights, the immigration debate, or even the new tax bill? My life won’t change much with any of these shifts in our political landscape. 

However, many in my same situation are frustrated with all the hashtag movements and feverish debates. They’re bent on opposing voices that claim to be oppressed. They’re steadfast in their denial of misogyny and systemic racism. They’re certain our LGBTQ brothers and sisters aren’t deserving of equal rights. They feel their faith is under attack—that their hard-earned money is being sucked up by the government and handed to the lazy, drug-addicted underbelly of our nation.

In light of all this controversy, I do think there is something positive about this heated era of political turmoil and the somewhat unforeseen rise of Donald Trump: politics, privilege, and oppression are at the forefront of the American conversation. So let’s talk about it. 

My interpretation of the situation is that Trump has become a symbol of those who seek to maintain the status quo or bring America back to the greatness of yesteryear.

But if we’re going to “Make America Great Again,” a fair question would be, when in America’s history are we talking about? 

In the 1920s, the nation was caught up in the throes of rampant materialism and hedonism along with the rise of the KKK.

The 1930s saw our greatest economic crisis.

The 1940s suffered through World War 2 and the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

The 1950s was marred by racial segregation.

The 1960s experienced the Vietnam War and the assassinations of JFK and MLK.

And the 1970s endured Watergate, coupled with the deterioration of our faith in government.

Don’t get me wrong. I think America has done great things and is still capable of greatness. But I think Trump captured the American Imagination with the idea of “greatness” by stirring up images akin to 1950s and 60s television: The quaint peacefulness of Leave It to Beaver or the simplicity of The Andy Griffith Show. However,—and I know this might ruffle some feathers—I think America has been great for a certain demographic of Americans:

Me. 

Think about it. 

What would it mean for a person of color to make America great again? What would America go back to that would benefit a person of color or someone who is currently marginalized? White America has the privilege of thinking we once lived in an America that was great.

Many of our American brothers and sisters have had a much more difficult time achieving the same quality of life that I have. My privilege has handed me resources for generations, making a middle-class lifestyle a piece of cake, regardless of how hard I work. But what about those of us born in poverty or in crime-ridden locales, forced to drop out of school to pay the rent? What about those of us who have been driven to crime and drugs as a result of generational oppression and prejudice? 

I can approach this incredibly difficult and horrific situation and say to the suffering person, “You need to try harder,” or I can understand that I have been handed tools and a position in society that is advantageous, realizing the difference in our lifestyles is the result of my winning a genetic and cultural lottery. It isn’t a level playing field, even if the laws are (on the book) equal. 

In 1968, Martin Luther King Jr. focused his energies on what he called “The Poor People Campaign,” where he said, “It’s alright to tell a man to lift himself by his own bootstraps, but it is a cruel jest to say to a bootless man that he ought to lift himself by his own bootstraps.” 

When we discuss the socio-economic situations of those who have been oppressed, like women, people of color, the LGBTQ community, immigrants, Muslims, and the impoverished, we MUST consider things like the gender gap, slavery, Jim Crow, and xenophobia. By rightfully moving toward the abolishment of such horrid institutions, we will take steps in the right direction, but that doesn’t mean we’ve given boots to our neighbors. There are red-blooded human beings around us every day that have the right to achieve and excel through the law but have no resources—no bootstraps—to pull themselves out of the crushing weight of poverty and oppression. They have no tools to achieve the quality of life many of us enjoy because of the families we were born into. 

So what’s the solution? 

This is what I’m wrestling with right now. I feel as though I’ve just come into an awareness of my privilege and am learning how to live with, speak about, and wield it. 

For me, I think it means that I need to have an acute awareness of where I am situated in the power structure; many things that are true for me are not true for everyone. 

It means I have to vote for candidates campaigning for a more equitable society. 

I have to voice my opinion when I recognize injustice. 

I must be willing to give up my privilege when it comes to policies that seek to level the playing field.

and most importantly, I must actively engage the marginalized around me and hear their story, creating space and opportunity for those who have been silenced. 

When it comes down to it, my voice and opinions should take a backseat to the first-hand experience of those who have suffered beneath the crushing weight of inequality. Instead of fighting to prove we live in an egalitarian society because we feel as though it is, shouldn’t we strive to hear the stories of those who say it isn’t? 

There’s a quote that I’ve been mulling on for a couple of years now. I tried to find the author but couldn’t. If you know where it comes from, let me know: 

“If you are accustomed to privilege, equality looks a lot like oppression.” 

Losing certain privileges may be painful, but it is a necessary step in achieving real equality. 

I don’t fully know what using privilege for justice looks like, but I want to be a voice, a mind, and a body that seeks to end inequality in my country. And if it means I have to take a step or three backward to grab the hand of my brother or sister who has fallen victim to the oppressive forces of the American machine, then I will do so to help sculpt a more just world. For the two or three of you who are reading, I hope we can learn to live together, to love one another, and most of all, to find the intersection of voices that aren’t white, straight, or Protestant and listen well. 

Us or Them: Thursday Week 2 of Advent

Let anyone with ears listen! —Matthew 11:15

It's natural to see the world through the lens of our tribe. 

We are right. 

They are wrong. 

And behind these lenses, we can hear a verse like Matthew 11:5 and assume that Jesus is talking to them: The Democrats, the Republicans, the Muslims, the Atheists, the LGBTQ community, the Catholics, the Protestants, Fox News, Calvinists, Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, your crazy Aunt Sue, Social Justice Warriors, Feminists...

But in Matthew 11, Jesus is speaking to the crowd. A crowd, we should assume, we belong to. Do we have ears to listen? Are we wise enough to open our minds to a world without labels and categories? 

Paul tells us "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."

The coming of Christ in our consciousness should give us a renewed mind that breaks down categories and labels, tearing to shreds the very notion that there is even a system consisting of "us or them." There is no longer anyone other; there is only us. 

May we learn that labels and categories are often used to oppress the powerless. May we end the destructive nature of our dualistic thinking. May we see our brother or sister when we look into the face of our enemies and bring the refreshing gift of Christ to all we encounter, letting each person know that they are loved by the Divine. 

Come, Lord Jesus. 

Isaiah 41:13–20

Matthew 11:11–15