Trump isn’t Hitler and Biden isn’t Mao. Such rhetoric breaches social contract.
Originally published in the Columbus Dispatch, this is a slightly expanded version that goes into more detail. I truly appreciate the Dispatch for their willingness to include contrarian voices and headlines that help to sell newspapers.
“Love your enemies, for they tell you your faults.” So writes statesman and political commentator Benjamin Franklin in Poor Richard’s Almanack.
I’ve been writing this column for more than a year. The editors were clear from the start that my politically conservative perspective would garner criticism from readers on the other side of the political divide.
When asked if I was okay with that, I laughed and replied, “Of course! Isn’t that the point?”
Since I’ve set out strong positions in this space, I’m hardly surprised by critical appraisal from readers who have a different view. In fact, I welcome it.
Those who take the time to write a scornful email or letter to the editor have at least read and considered a different perspective. I’ll consider their views in return and appreciate the start of a dialogue.
I’ll accept positive feedback too, but, in the spirit of Franklin’s advice, we learn more from our critics than our cheerleaders.
I’m often surprised, however, by which columns garner strident feedback. My most recent op-ed was about engaging with each other in actual discussion rather than merely ranting across the partisan aisle.
As I wrote: “We might not agree about particular policies, but our increasing refusal to even engage each other in reasoned discussion and debate is a recipe only for more vitriolic division.”
What could possibly be offensive about that? Then again, I know that the minefields of possible offense now lurk everywhere. But that’s a topic for another day.
Kudos to the editors for publishing two letters critical of my piece. Readers benefit from seeing contrary points of view, as do I.
But let’s get to the heart of this particular disagreement. Those letters weren’t about specific policies. They were about the virtue — or lack thereof — of engaging in certain policy debates at all. There’s hardly a better example of the problem than a view that essentially proclaims: “I’m right, you’re wrong, there’s nothing to discuss.”
In many other cases, critics engage in a type of straw manning, with counterpoints to arguments I never made, complaining about why I didn’t take a position they prefer, or the ever-entertaining ad hominem attack.
Rarely, and I mean exceptionally rarely, do critics ever even attempt to offer a direct, point by point counterargument. I understand. People are busy and most don’t have or don’t want to take the time to really dig into the details of their beliefs, let alone someone else’s.
But that’s not how a civil society works best, let alone a representative democracy like ours.
If we’re unable or unwilling to have our views challenged, we’ll never see the weakness of our arguments or the strength of opposing ones. Just as importantly, we’ll reflexively reject any policies that result from considered compromise. Sometimes, refusal to compromise is a virtue; most often it’s not.
Politics is the way we choose how we’ll live together. The choice to distance ourselves from those with whom we disagree, and instead stand with our tribe at protests and rallies, is far more worrisome than any particular policy, program, or president.
While evil exists, few policy issues fall into that category. Every question of how to govern our society has multiple choice answers and few of those choices are inherently good or bad.
But the greatest harm in refusing to engage in substantive policy debate with each other is the ease with which we devolve our political disagreements into demonizing the people with contrary perspectives. Then it’s not just “you’re wrong on this issue,” but rather “you’re a horrible person for even thinking it.”
Trump isn’t Hitler and Biden isn’t Mao. Calling them — or those who support them — such polemical names is more than an ad hominem attack; it breaches the social contract citizens of a republic share.
Studies — and your own two eyes — suggest this trend has worsened lately. But there’s a way out.
I recently had a pointed disagreement about safety training with a colleague in a group chat. Lives had been lost so it mattered. It would’ve been easy to assume ill will or incompetence. Instead, I reached out to talk by phone. Because we both wanted a better outcome, we soon found areas of common ground.
Right, left, and center all want better outcomes. We disagree on how to get there.
Franklin’s aphorism still resonates nearly three centuries later, but I don’t consider my ideological opponents to be, in his telling, “enemies.” We become our own worst enemy when we view every policy disagreement as an existential threat. Few really are.
If we instead merely continue to hurl rhetorical shots at each other across the political battlefield, the real shots aren’t far behind and we risk losing the republic Franklin helped to create.
So, have a real conversation. Who knows? Our elected representatives just might follow our lead.