The virtuous political elephant
McKenna Snow
MSMU Class of 2023
(11/2022) What feeling is worse than being at a nice meal over the holidays, extended family in town, everything going well, and then, suddenly—a topic is brought up that makes everyone freeze. You glance over at your arch nemesis of this topic: you know how that family member feels about it—and you know you feel differently. Then you, along with mostly everyone else at the table, decide niceties are over: you gear up to dive right in with your opinion, ready to include all the new information you’ve learned about the topic since last Thanksgiving. You’ve watched all the latest YouTube videos on it. Read all the latest news articles. With this level of intelligence, your relative in disagreement won’t stand a chance against you!
A very nasty argument ensues. At least one person leaves the table early. Several people are very disappointed the family didn’t even make it to post-dinner dessert to bring up these hot topics.
Nine times out of ten in these instances, nobody really wins. All involved opinions are too proud to admit that the other person might have a point. Even you, who thought the other side would just spew fallacies, are left secretly worried that the other opinion have some weight. But you would never give them the satisfaction of knowing they might be, even in a small way, correct. By the end of the evening, nothing has really been accomplished. The turkey is cold and needs to be put away, so the relatives passive-aggressively assist one another in cleaning up the kitchen.
In another household, such political topics are never brought up at all at the holiday table. This group of varying opinions knows the risk that such a topic runs, and they don’t want to spoil the one time a year that the whole family comes together. One conversation won’t make a difference anyways, they reason. A whole night of niceties are exchanged, and, in a different kind of way, still nothing is accomplished.
In both households, politics and religion are the elephant in the room. The first house is quite messy by the end because the elephant got up and walked around, knocking everything over. The second house’s elephant is so stressed it doesn’t move.
Everyone’s house has this elephant in it. Not everyone wants to acknowledge it—some people in the family are truly removed, hardly polarized at all, and are just "done" with politics. Morality becomes a "to each his own," kind of topic. It’s the sort of mindset where relativism wins, which is a significant problem for another time. Regardless of if you fall on one strong end or the other, or somewhere in the middle, acknowledging the elephant in the room is worth it. Politics and religion are worth talking about, but the difficulty is that it requires exceptional virtue to do so well.
One of the many difficulties in talking about these things is that more often than not, pride gets in the way. Consider the way the elephant in the first house is treated. Pride makes the person assume they are entirely right on the topic and absolutely won’t be swayed the other way, so they’re hardly open-minded going into the discussion. Pride makes the person laugh inwardly at the other, considering their absurdities, and internally making fun of them. The trouble here is, there is no charity. There is no humility. Nothing can be accomplished without these two virtues. Before going into a discussion with a family member or friend about a charged topic next time, ask yourself first: Do I value and recognize them as human beings with goodness in their hearts, even if it is harder for me to see? Am I approaching this conversation with charity and compassion, rather than belittlement or just a need to be right?
1 Corinthians 8:1 says that, "knowledge inflates with pride, but love builds up." Philosopher Srren Kierkegaard examined the latter half of this statement very closely in "Works of Love," published in 1962. The first half, "knowledge inflates with pride," can clearly be related to those in the first house, who are so adamant that they are right because they know so much, but can see very little beyond their own supposed genius. Love, in contrast, builds up not only the other person, but also you—yes! You too have capacity to grow in a conversation. Love builds up and creates bridges that arrogant knowledge cannot, and can get people much farther in a discussion about what they disagree on.
In examining the phrase, "love builds up," Kierkegaard explains that in order for genuine love to be built up, it is necessary to presuppose love exists within the other person as well. Love was in the other before you arrived, and was implanted by God Himself, because He Himself is love, and made all human beings out of love. Each person is created "very good." Even if the love within the other person is incredibly difficult to find or see, it is crucial to presuppose that it is there within the other person. It allows for the most charitable interpretation of their beliefs, arguments, and needs. Often it lifts the veil to see a deeper hurt the other has experienced; at their core they desire love, but some hurt from the past may have misshaped or misplaced this, but from your narrow point of view, you only see the surface effects of such a hurt.
Presupposing love in the other, as Kierkegaard suggests, allows for a bridge between the two of you. Even if you disagree deeply, recognize that you are both created very good, and that there is more to the other person than the political beliefs you see on the surface. At the heart of it, there is a person looking for truth, just like you. Rather than tear them down, build love up. Acknowledge, cherish, and celebrate their goodness. Walk hand in hand with them in the pursuit of truth, together. Nobody has it all figured out. Love allows us to learn together. And it allows the elephant in the room to have a proper space at the dinner table.
Read other articles by McKenna Snow