A few weeks ago a new book came out called “I never thought of it that way: How to have fearlessly curious conversations in dangerously divided times,” by Mónica Guzmán. The title caught my attention, and I rather impulsively emailed Mónica to ask if she'd be a guest on my podcast. She immediately replied, “yes!”
Now it was time to read her book.
I didn’t have high expectations. I’ve read a number of great books on the subject – and wrote one of my own — and doubted this one would tell me anything new. I was wrong.
The best way to describe what Mónica’s written is to compare it to a kind of magical guidebook to a foreign land. A typical guidebook gives you some history, the essential places to visit, and tips on where to eat and stay. But a magical guidebook – the one you wish existed – would immerse you in the culture, make you feel the excitement of actually being there, and somehow even give you the language skills you need to connect with everyone you meet. In other words, you’d be fully prepared to get the absolute most out of your journey.
If you find yourself wanting or needing to visit the land of difficult conversations, “I never thought of it that way” is about as close to a magical guidebook as you’re likely to get.
You can go right to the podcast with Mónica, or read on for some highlights from our conversation (edited for clarity).
Q: You write that as a journalist, every one of your now thousands of interviews “was something everyone craves but rarely encounters: a conversation bent on understanding without judgment.” That struck me as really a powerful statement, because it speaks to something so fundamental in us, our need to be seen, to be accepted for who we are. But we don't give that to each other very often. Why is that?
A: A: One thing that stops us from seeing the “other” is our own desperation to be seen. There's a lot of great philosophical writing about solitude and conversation. My favorite book on this is Reclaiming Conversation by Sherry Turkle. She talks about how coming into a conversation fully means being open and able to listen to the other person. But when you have things that you're in turmoil over, sometimes your “listening” is really just you trying to be heard. So sometimes it takes a bit of solitude, some time to be curious about yourself, and to be honest with yourself about the places you're struggling, before you're able to come fully into a conversation – before you're humble and open enough to really make it an exchange, instead of a turn-taking type of exercise.
Q: You have an acronym, SOS, which stands for Sorting, Othering, and Siloing. We sort ourselves into like minded groups, separate ourselves from others who think differently, and over time that creates silos – environments that continually reinforce our view of the world. As a result, you say, we’re “steering ourselves away from reality.” That struck me because from an evolutionary perspective, no species does very well if they're not able to see reality. So, could you speak a little bit more to what's at stake here, by not getting out of our silos?
A: Oh, a lot. The social sciences are giving us a lot of evidence that many people are living with more anxiety and more fear of other people than is justified. There are studies that show that when people on one side look at the other side, and are asked to guess at the views on that side, we grossly exaggerate those views….we believe they’re more extreme than they are. And of course, extreme views are tied with more harm, right? And so they’re a greater level of threat.
When we get out of our silos and have conversations with actual people, it puts a check on the misperceptions swirling around in the media and in our silos, about who those other people are, and what's motivating them to make these choices that confound us at the ballot box or anywhere else. Imagine reducing the fear and anxiety with which we're living, and with what we use to make our decisions about our everyday lives!
Another consequence is that people are breaking their relationships with their relatives and with their friends all the time. Because the differences are too much. It’s too hard. It feels that way at least. But that's the key word to me, feeling. Again, how much of our decisions to break those relationships is based on a clear view of the disagreement versus what might be exaggerations? And if we could clarify those exaggerations, could we maintain the relationships?
Q: This gets to the concept of bridge building, of finding ways to connect across our differences. But you say something that at first glance is kind of intriguing. You say that “the most important thing to do with a bridge is not to cross it, but to keep it.” Can you say more about that?
A: One of the mistakes we make when we enter into these conversations of difference, when we're ready to be curious, is we demand that the other person show up on exactly our terms in exactly the ways we want. And then when they don't, we're like, “Well, that was a waste of an hour of my life.” And then we burn the bridge.
I have a relative I absolutely love who doesn't vaccinate her son or herself. We have huge disagreements about the COVID vaccine, enormous. But I'm not spending my time in conversation with her telling her she's wrong, or any of that. And she's not spending time telling me I'm wrong. When we talk about the vaccine, we talk about how we came to trust what we trust and how we came to believe what we believe. And that becomes really interesting.
She's one of the healthiest people I know. So obviously, it's not a lack of value for health. But she has a deep suspicion of wealth, and of corporate greed. She has a lot of questions about the companies making the vaccine and the role they play in this... just deep distrust. And I find it fascinating when we talk about it.
The important thing is that I'm there for her, so that if someday she thinks to herself, “okay, maybe I'm wrong about vaccines,” she’ll feel free to give me a call and we can talk it over. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe one day I’ll think I’m wrong and give her a call.
What matters is to keep the bridge open. Because we can, we can keep it open.
Q: One of the things that’s missing in our national dialogue is the inspiration for why we should to talk to each other, why we should get beyond the condemnation and the judgment. Instead, there's so much fear, which is a really interesting thing, how fear operates in terms of keeping us apart.
A: There are people so consumed by hate that they are worth fearing. But here's the radical belief I have: I still think that what even those people really crave, is to be heard, and seen. And I know that people are like, “but not by me!” Ok, not by you, that's fine. But the more glue that we can build between each other as people, the more likely it is that those who are destined to be so consumed by hate that they really kind of sin against humanity — they will be caught before they get there, they’ll be held before they get there, and maybe they won't get there at all. But that'll only happen if we keep those bonds between us and make it possible.
Q: I'm wondering, how did you come to be so totally convinced of what you just said?
A: One thing that's coming up for me is, I guess, a close observation and reflection on the things going on in my own mind. There have been so many times where my reaction is judgment. And even in the moment I might think to myself, I hate that person, what they just did to me. And then if I slow down, take a little time, if I get curious about what's going on, I'll see my own role in whatever happened. I will see different perspectives on what happened.
And usually what I need to do as part of that process, is to allow whatever the emotion or concern is, in my gut, to be heard by me or by someone else. Like, I need it to be understood that I'm under a lot of pressure right now. Or that, I'm really worried, you know, that this project or this thing that we're trying to do is going to go south. Once I'm able to express that, and see it acknowledged either by myself or by someone else, it all changes.
I was just at the Smithsonian Museum of American History. And they have an exhibit with Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. And they show the page on the screenplay, where it went from black and white, to full color. And that's what it feels like, I was looking at everything in black and white, and then suddenly it goes into full color. And everything's fine.
So maybe that's an unusual way to answer the question. But because I see that dynamic in me, you know, even though it doesn't go all the way to like I want to kill someone, I can see how it could if you kept it going!
I mentioned in my book that I did an interview with a convicted murderer, and then I watched him die, get executed, in Texas. And it was really painful to do that, to interview him. And also to interview his mother. And the whole time I was like, this is about so much more than just him. He grew up really poor, and in a terrible situation. And I'm not saying that excuses what he did. Obviously, it does not excuse what he did. But it was just, I saw in his life, so many opportunities for someone to love him that weren't met. And that's what hate is right? It's the absence of love. So, again, I look around and I see everybody removing their love from each other.
I can't believe you've gotten me to this place…I have a little rule in my head, never bring up love because that's when people think you're getting too squishy. But you know, we sing about love. We have love songs all the time, but we don't talk about it.
Love is acceptance. That's what it is. It's acceptance.
I encourage you to listen to the whole interview. You’ll find it here.