Eliot Gelwan seconds Ed Fitzgerald’s confidence in George Bush’s dishonesty but wonders if there’s a productive forum for people who disagree with one another:
The polarization of the weblogging world, moreover, is just mirroring the process in society as a whole. …However, call it arrogant or closeminded if you like, but I believe in my opinions, and I am confident that those who share my viewpoint have a monopoly on balance, as Ed defines it — maximal truth and minimal misinformation. Although I am sure the right wingnuts feel the same, I have no insecure need to entertain their madness politely. As someone once said, my mind isn’t so open that any ol’ thing can fly in…. I would love to hear if readers have any counterexamples of recent meaningful exchange across the ideological gulf, in the weblogging sphere or elsewhere — where they are listening to each other or perhaps (shudder) even influencing each other’s viewpoints…
Eliot’s comment reminds me of my dissertation. Two decades ago I interviewed 10 individuals who had written letters to the editor of local newspapers expressing a broad range of nonmainstream political views. Among the many topics I asked them about as part of this endlessly open-ended qualitative research project was what made them so sure they were right. They all pointed to books that influenced their thinking, courses they had taken, certain kinds of experiences, and they were all happy, or at least willing, to talk for hours about what they have come to think important. Maybe they all have blogs today.
But one question generally left them stumped: Why do so many other people who have read the same books, taken the same courses, had the same experiences completely disagree with you? Well, the interviewees on the political right were more likely than those on the left to say they were smarter than other people, but mostly they, too, just shrugged their shoulders.
This social psychology dissertation, obviously, reflected my own interests and analysis as well as my own curiosity about how I justified my own political conclusions. Like my interviewees, and probably like Eliot, I too thought my conclusions were supported by evidence. Like Eliot, I still do. But I try not to forget that other people reach different conclusions about complex issues without being idiots.
On the other hand, it’s also dangerous to let awareness of complexity prevent political conclusions and action, a topic I’ve blogged about before. The traditional academic objective style and the perennial recommendation that “more research needs to be done” strengthen the status quo. So does the related tendency of people who identify with the political middle to reject all nonmainstream input. Our goal should not be to oversimplify — which happens too often on the left as well as on the right — but to reach commitment and action despite awareness of complexity.
Forums for people who fundamentally disagree can be interesting, but I suspect not many underlying assumptions change. I’ve tried in the past to spur discussion across ideological lines, especially in the Israel/Palestine context, but I’m not sure how often that turns out to be useful. Dialogue groups that focus on this kind of exchange can increase understanding, empathy, and friendship — positive outcomes — but as far as I know they don’t routinely lead to effective action toward social change. When we think we are on the side of justice and equality, calls for dialogue and understanding can lead to expectations of compromise that mask rather than resolve justified grievances.
What do do? Maybe more research needs to be done….
