When We Disagree
In trauma circles, they say, “Don’t ask, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Ask, ‘What happened to you.’” In other words, all those people who seem crazy and wrong—the addict, the mentally ill, the homeless, the timid, the broken-hearted, the person imprisoned by cell walls or greed or an unacknowledged emptiness of heart—are not crazy or wrong. They are wounded.
But what if that person is Republican, or Democrat, or Libertarian, or Socialist? What if he worships a different god than we do, or no god at all? Do we dismiss him as deluded, ignorant, or even evil? Does it make sense to wonder what happened to make her believe one way rather than the other? Are we curious to understand another person’s mind? Can we extend compassion to those who think differently than we do?
At our recovery church meeting a few weeks ago, we talked about the painful political division in our country. Even in our small circle, we disagreed on many things, but we did agree on one thing: Our beliefs and interpretations are not the only ones around. Just because someone thinks differently than we do doesn’t mean they’re wrong. It’s important to listen to those who disagree with us because it’s possible we are the ones who are wrong.
Facts and Statistics
Of course, talking about right and wrong implies there is a correct answer, at least to some questions. And indeed, there are facts in the world. For instance, floors hold us up, at least if they’re structurally sound, and light and form and taste exist. We can claim all these things are just illusion or a computer simulation, but when it comes to living day by day, we take it for granted that we can count on gravity, and the movement of electrons, and the properties of atoms to remain stable and hold our world together so might cross the street, climb stairs, and hug our children without everything crumbling to dust around us.
Beyond that level of reality, most of us agree that mathematical formulations can be trusted to work the same way each time. We use measurements to build homes and cook dinners. Statistics, too, can give us information about the world. Though numbers can be manipulated, and how we interpret a research study may depend on how we interpret reality, still there are facts within the data, and if we dig deeply enough, we can gather useful meaning from the findings. For instance, though we might not agree on why it’s happening, statistics reveals that ice sheets in the Antarctic are losing mass, the sea is rising 3.4 millimeters a year, and the oceans are growing warmer. [1]
As we explore and discover, our knowledge grows, so sometimes we learn something that alters how we understand the world, as did Einstein’s discovery of relativity, but that doesn’t mean science is as relative as religion, nor does it mean that facts are meaningless. We might not know the exact mechanism of evolution, for instance, but we know species evolve.
Alternative Facts
This may seem obvious, but in this time of “alternative facts,” I think it’s important to remember that not every “truth” someone asserts is equally reasonable, reliable, honest, or factual. People lie, and they make mistakes. Yes, it’s important to remember we might be wrong, and ours is not the only valid worldview, but that doesn’t mean every worldview is valid, nor that we should countenance absurdity. We don’t need to listen to unfounded conspiracy theories or ill-considered assumptions. If we want, we can walk away or change the subject.
What is probably not helpful is to argue with someone who is determined to believe a lie. I once had a client tell me that the contrails from airplanes were actually contrails that were dumping chemicals into the environment for various nefarious reasons. It was the first I’d heard of the idea, and my initial response was to suggest there might be another explanation. That didn’t go over very well, and he proceeded to explain the government schemes and the damage being done to us from those trails.
He didn’t convince me, but I figured out there was no point in contradicting him. When we argue with people, they rarely change their minds. Usually, they get defensive and cling to their beliefs. It’s not hard to do, even if our beliefs make no sense. We humans are masters of rationalization; we can talk ourselves into most anything. If our sense of self is fragile, if we feel shame when proven wrong, we’ll have an especially hard time admitting our mistakes.
What Happened to You?
That gets to the question of why we cling to baseless conspiracy theories or religious dogma. There are many reasons. Perhaps most important is that we are social creatures. To survive, we must learn to get along with others in our tribe. If we can’t get along with our family-of-origin, we’ll find another family. Then, we’ll agree with them, believe in their god, take on their values. If we don’t, we’ll be ostracized yet again. At least, that’s the fear.
Indeed, fear drives many of our beliefs. To survive, we must learn what is safe and what is not. Thus, we magnify life’s dangers. If our lives are uncertain, or if we have been betrayed, abused, and misused, we might see peril where there is none.
Thus we ask, “What happened to you?”
If we ask that question first of ourselves, we will become better able to understand how wounds drive us to cling to unreasonable beliefs. We might even understand how they make sense to our emotional self.
Think about it. What hurts motivate us? What shames us? When do we feel helpless? Can we admit we were ever powerless, or does that hurt too much? If we dig into our most passionate beliefs, we will discover fear, sadness, guilt, resentment, betrayal. We humans cannot separate our thoughts from our emotions. What we believe has a lot to do with what has happened to us in our lives.
The Civil War Legacy
We see this, for instance, in the current controversy over symbols of the Confederacy. This isn’t really about the symbols themselves. It’s about slavery, about the “Lost Cause” of the Southern resisters, and about the failure of that war to make substantial changes for black people, though it upended the lives of many Southern whites.
In Southern museums devoted to the Civil War, for example, there’s not much mention of slavery. You might think the North was fighting over something else entirely. On the South Carolina Monument is a plaque that speaks of the honor of the South’s soldiers, of the “responsibilities of freedom,” of “heritage and convictions,” the “sacredness of States Rights,” and of how their sons who fought “earned eternal glory.” As Edward Rothstien of the New York Times writes, “Facts bend under pressure.” [2]
At the same time, he explains, in the North, the abolitionist John Brown is heralded for his dedication. The Virginia Historical Society, however, downplays his efforts while asking questions about his methods, noting that he took hostages and even murdered innocent people in his pursuit of freedom.
If your ancestors lived in this country during the Civil War, did they fight for the North or the South? Your answer to that question may do more to influence how you frame the story of the war than does the facts. That’s why it’s important to ask, “What happened to you?”
Understanding 9/11
Our life history and the history of our nation and our community has a lot to do with how we understand even those things we can agree are facts. We see this in another Times article, one that quotes students from around the world as they share what they learned about 9/11.
In a number of countries, the event was either not taught at all or given a brief mention. In South Korea, it was explained as a post-globalization conflict. Countries such as Britain and France compare it to their own experiences with terrorism. One Pakistani textbook called 9/11 an “incident” that occurred because of “American hegemony.” The article quotes Biz Herman, a political science doctoral student, as saying that textbooks aren’t so much about educating children as they are about “setting national agendas” and defining narratives. [3]
At least we agree that 9/11 really happened. In that case, there is some room to discuss truths and stories. How do you talk to someone who denies the reality of the Holocaust or the Sandy Hook shooting? Probably, you can’t talk to them, at least not about those events. There’s little point in listening to someone who is entrenched in denial.
The Fanatic
But listening to those who interpret things in differently than we do can be life changing for us and for them.
There’s a Sufi story that talks about a fanatic who would attack his opponents with harsh words and angry sentiments. One day, he told his teacher that, in the past, he had done the devil’s work. Now he did God’s. Indeed, he joyfully sought out those whose beliefs were in error and showed them their mistakes. It was what he lived for.
The teacher asked him if he first considered the other’s positions. Did he put himself in his opponents’ shoes?
Indeed, the fanatic did. He studied the other person, came to know her well. That way, he knew that person’s weaknesses and could better argue against her.
Suddenly, his teacher began to yell at the man, telling him how terrible he was. And as the fanatic cowered, the teacher, just as suddenly, fell silent.
“Do you understand now?” he asked. “It is not enough to study a person so you might demolish him. You must seek to understand her emotions, as well. Learn to care about that person. Then you might be a true servant of God.”
Chastened, the man became more humble and compassionate. [4]
When we attack someone, they must protect themselves. Some people do this directly by arguing with or denouncing us. Others walk away. Still others pretend to agree in the hope that they might shut us up. Rarely will we win anyone over if we tear them down.
Listening to Understand
Of course, if we approach the other person with the goal of winning them over, even if we plan to do so with kindness, we are not much different from the fanatic. We’re still not paying attention to the individual, but are focusing on our ideas. And I do mean “our” ideas.
To find our opponent’s core wound, we must put ourselves in his place, try to imagine the world from his point of view, explore his feelings. Then he’ll probably stop being our opponent and might even become our friend. At the very least, we will feel compassion toward him.
So might we choose to learn about others not so we can destroy them or win, but so we might together explore ideas and discover truth. After all, what is truth? How does one know? What do we feel about truth, and how do our feelings get in the way of our seeing what stands in front of us? Might we seek to learn about others so we can get to the root of our differing beliefs, maybe even find a point of agreement?
Our beliefs cannot be separated from our emotions, and our emotions cannot be separated from our life experiences. Together, they determine the facts we choose to focus on and the way we interpret those facts.
Examining Our Own Core Wounds
Let’s say you come home from work, and your partner’s at the computer, and you say hello, and your partner doesn’t answer. Those are the facts.
Without thinking about it, though, we make assumptions about what those facts mean. Maybe we think our partner was doing something frivolous while we slaved away for hours, so we feel slighted and annoyed. We might assume our partner is ignoring us, and doing it on purpose, too, so our feelings get hurt. Then we might decide we have the right to be angry, so we might start yelling.
From a few facts, we create a set of beliefs. From those beliefs, we justify aggressive behavior. Then things go from uncomfortable to miserable.
Yet who knows what our partner was doing all day, and who knows why our partner didn’t answer us? Only our partner knows. Do we check out our assumptions with him or her? Only if we are wise enough to breathe and consider the core wound that allowed anger to arise in us. Indeed, if we are to listen to our opponents at all, we must first understand our own story. That way, we will better recognize the hurts that obscure what we see.
Being social creatures, we want to be liked. Because we like people who are similar to us, we assume others will do the same, and usually they do. Not that we need to be like them in all ways. For instance, we can have friends of different ethnic groups or religions because we bond over parenting styles or environmental concerns. If we quilt or play music, we can hang out with those whose politics are radically different from ours, especially if we avoid talking about our points of disagreement.
Listening to Be Changed
All of us have things that matter a lot to us. Maybe we get passionate about politics or faith, or maybe about recycling, childhood education, diet, vaccinations. That which is vital to us helps define us. It gives us something to stand for. Because we feel strongly, we can a lot done, but we’re not likely to be able to argue about our passions in a civil manner. It might just hurt too much.
Yet if we can recognize our hurt and breath into the pain, if we can remind ourselves that our way is just one way of looking at the world, then maybe we can listen to someone who sees things differently. Maybe we can open ourselves to something new. Maybe we can be changed.
Of course, it is not only our hurts that inform our beliefs. So do our joys. For instance, we might believe in a deity because we felt touched by a love we could not explain in any other way. We may believe in the importance of grace because we have known mercy. If someone listens deeply to us, we discover the power of listening. Then we might want to listen to others.
Just because we honestly consider another’s truth does not necessarily mean we will be convinced by her words. It does mean, though, that we will develop compassion for that person. When we fully hear another, we change them. Such listening can transform hearts and minds. Yet it does not only change the one who is listened to. It also changes the one who listens.
In faith and fondness,
Barbara
Credits
- See “Global Climate Change: Vital Signs of the Planet,” NASA, https://climate.nasa.gov/vital-signs/carbon-dioxide/, accessed 9/10/21.
- Rothstein, Edward, “Not Forgotten,” The New York Times, March 16, 2011, https://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/17/arts/design/in-the-south-civil-war-has-not-been-forgotten.html, accessed 9/11/21.
- Cave,Damien and Yousur Al-Hlou, “How Teenagers Around the World Are Taught About 9/11,” The New York Times, September 11, 2021, A 13.
- Adapted from White, William R., Stories for Telling: A Treasury for Christian Storytellers, Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1986, 124-125, from a Sufi tale collected by Idries Shah.
Photo by Zac Durant on Unsplash
Copyright © 2021 Barbara E. Stevens. All Rights Reserved.