The Best Way to Divide a Cake

Odd Company -- February 24, 2025

Dear Friends, Family, Neighbors, and Those of You I Don’t Yet Know —

Welcome to this late winter edition of Odd Company, in one of the most peculiar winters our country has seen in a long time. Of course I mean peculiar weather. There’s been plenty of that, from fires to floods to historic snowfalls.

But I also mean peculiar actions on the part of our president and our congress. As these actions have begun to affect people personally in various unexpected ways, there’s been an uptick in intense conversations among ordinary Americans, both online and in the real world. Not too surprisingly, tonight’s letter is about how to have difficult conversations without killing each other. I just thought it might…uh…be a timely topic. So, I’ve spent the last couple of weeks rereading some of my old non-violent communications books and listening to related recent podcasts.¹

Tensions (and blood pressures) are high. There’s quite a lot of shouting at local town hall meetings, as often happens when people are angry or frightened or both. Of course this is happening between Democrats and Republicans. But it’s also happening between Republicans who like what’s going on and those who don’t; and among Democrats who can’t decide what to do next. It’s happening among strangers, but also among colleagues, friends, and members of families. There are heated arguments taking place at work, in book clubs and garden clubs; among the regulars at small pubs; even between people who consider themselves Best Friends Forever.

Don’t get me wrong. These disagreements may be unpleasant, but they are a sign of a healthy democracy. It means we still have the right to argue. And they are necessary. Most of us would prefer to tip our hats and make an excuse about needing to go home and feed the cats rather than engage in conversations we fear will end in tears or fisticuffs. Avoiding conflict is a very normal human instinct, and it often serves us well. Just not always. And not right now. There are a lot of important things we, as a nation, need to get clear with ourselves. Not to put too fine a point on it, at present I think the Trump administration is a train wreck. Obviously, if I’m talking about it with somebody who voted for Donald Trump and is still happy with their decision, that’s not a good starting place.

So where should we begin? Three books I found useful in my quest for an answer are Talk: The Science of Conversation and the Art of Being Ourselves, by Alison Brooks; Say What You Mean, by Oren Jay Sofer; and Cross Purposes: Christianity’s Broken Bargain with Democracy, by Jonathan Rauch. These authors agree (as do I) that we should start by looking at ourselves. If we go into a difficult conversation convinced that we are right and our job is to persuade the other party to agree with us, well…chances are the other party thinks it’s their job to persuade us to agree with them. We won’t make much progress toward finding the common ground that will allow us to live together in peace.

There’s no sense sugar coating what I’m about to say. Difficult conversations take courage and humility. We have to start by being willing to acknowledge, to ourselves and to the other party, that there’s a chance we’re wrong. If we’ve made mistakes, we’ll need to admit them. We have to begin in a spirit of genuine openness and curiosity. We must truly want to understand what led the other person to feel as they do. Because each of us is unique, trying to imagine the answer to that question doesn’t work very well. There’s only one way to really find out, and that is to ask them and then listen — truly and deeply — to what they say in response.

Of course, there’s more than one way to ask a person how they feel about something. If we want an answer that’s truly informative, we can’t demand one. We can’t go into it in a high-handed, angry way. All that does is make the other person feel judged and wronged, which makes them angry in return. Instead, we have to invite a response. How do we invite an honest response? This is where being open and curious will serve us well. We do it by being receptive. As Alison Brooks says, it’s a kind of affirmation. “I hear what you’re saying and I appreciate it. It makes sense that you would feel that way about this.” Note that affirmation is not the same thing as agreeing. It’s just a way of assuring the other person that you understand their viewpoint and you find it worthy of consideration.

What if you find the conversation heating up in spite of your best efforts? Remind yourself that you only feel so strongly about the matter because you care deeply about what’s happening. You can be sure the other person cares deeply, too. You only differ in the way you show it. To lighten the conversation further, smile, make a joke, or briefly switch topics. Nothing defuses a situation like a little levity. And keep in mind that all of us share a lot of common ground. Brooks puts it this way: “Everyone wants to feel loved. Everyone wants to feel safe. Everyone wants to feel adored and admired. Everyone likes ice cream. Everybody likes being in a warm room. There are so many things we agree on.”

It would be really helpful if we could all keep in mind that the work of healing is *everybody’s* work. Sometimes it is very hard work indeed, demanding compromise, negotiation, and patience — something our senators and representatives often forget, judging from their actions (and failures to act).

Remember, too, that we can’t always reach consensus; but we can always arrive at a compromise. Which is a good thing, because compromise is not weakness. In fact, it’s the lifeblood of democracy. When we compromise, nobody gets exactly what they wanted; but everybody gets a solution they can live with, which moves us some distance in a good direction. When did we stop teaching that in school?

Tonight’s music is an oldie but goodie, “We Can Work It Out,” by the Beatles. Watching this video, I was a little blown away by the wisdom of these very young men. (This video was made in 1965. Paul McCartney was 23 and John Lennon was 25.) Sure, this is about a romantic breakup. But except for a line or two, it could be about any big disagreement. “Life is very short, and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.”

Good night for now. In parting, a little news report. John and my sister are both doing well. I’m still going to church, though I missed yesterday because we were visiting friends in the Gold Country. Here’s an interesting quotation from Ludwig Erhard, who was Chancellor of Germany during the Cold War, so I guess he knew what he was talking about. “A compromise is the art of dividing a cake in such a way that everyone believes he has the biggest piece.” Please express your opinion in writing to your Senators and your Congressional Representative. And finally, here’s a new poem. Till next time!

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WISE WORLD

Dim begins the new year,
sunlight slanted even at midday,
colors of fence tops, bare trees,
even the stones frost-muted.

Nothing moves, birds gone south,
long-limbed hares asleep,
bees clustered in hollows and hives,
the river slow with ice.

For me, a fire, hot tea,
the little light of candles,
this body, old friend,
and its endless song of wishes,
the treasure of trust
in the world, wiser than I.

1. Two podcasts I refer to in this issue are Hidden Brain, “The Conversations that Bring Us Closer,” February 17, 2025; and The Russell Moore Show, “An Atheist on What He Got Wrong about Christianity’s Decline,” February 12, 2025.