Dear Friends, Family, Neighbors, and Those of You I Don’t Yet Know —
Welcome to Odd Company. Here we are, just a few weeks away from Christmas. How did that happen? It’s been nine pretty intense months since John’s transplant surgery, with plenty of ups and downs. We’re now dealing with The First Cold. Normally, a cold is no big deal, right? But in order to keep a transplant patient from rejecting the new organ, they use heavy-duty drugs to turn the volume way down on the whole immune system. So a bug that would cause a case of sniffles for you or me can put a transplant patient in the hospital. With care, John should be okay. But extra visits with the lung team are required. It feels a little like walking on ice.
Out in the vegetable garden, the tomato vines look like they belong in the yard at the Psycho mansion. If I’d been doing my neighborly duty, I’d have thanked them and laid them in the compost bin a couple of weeks ago. Somehow, I’ve been busy with other things and haven’t gotten around to it. I don’t think of myself as a fair weather gardener, but the evidence is hard to deny. The weather’s been chilly with smatterings of rain and wind. Not a heckuva lot of fun out there. The cats agree. Repeated trial runs have ended in cold paws, occasional wet fur, and plaintive meows. Meanwhile, it’s warm and cozy inside. The fluffy mat by the fireplace beckons. For me, it’s hot tea and the type of reading that leads from one book or article to another, much as forking paths wind through a forest.
I don’t mind admitting that I think we (meaning you, me, and civilization in general) are on a pretty scary path right now. When I started Odd Company two years ago, with the intention of doing my little part to help us all get along with each other better, the path we were on was clearly leading to a bad place. In my heart of hearts, I believed our better angels would surely triumph before we reached that place. I’m no longer so sure. The world feels like a bar where everybody’s had too much to drink and the first punch has been thrown. Too many of us think we’re right, and too many of us have stopped listening and started seeing others as merely contemptible. It’s high time to stop, take a few deep breaths, and understand how fragile this whole house of cards is and how fragile each one of us is as a being of mere flesh and blood.
This puts me in mind of a song written by the British musician Sir Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner (known more usually as Sting). “Fragile” was written around 1987. It first appeared on Sting’s second solo album, “Nothing Like the Sun.” It has since been performed in all kinds of settings and in many different versions. One of my personal favorite versions is the one below, done with Stevie Wonder on Sting’s 60th birthday (which would have been in October of 2021) in a live concert at Beacon Theater in New York City. I have a sinking feeling that this video was posted on YouTube by someone who doesn’t have permission, but I couldn’t find a more legitimate copy. It’s just so good. Mea culpa. Lyrics here.
In the midst of current events — which have begun to make life feel like that slowly heating cauldron where the frog boils to death before it understands that it really ought to hop out — I’ve been doing a lot of reading about how to have a productive argument. I grew up in a family where everybody did everything they could to avoid open conflict. People suffered in silence and sometimes held decades-long grudges rather than talk about hard stuff. Since nobody talked, nobody listened either. And since nobody ever listened, nothing ever changed — at least not till someone lost their temper. As a result, it took me a long time to understand…well…most things. Sometimes we *need* conflict, because it’s the main engine of change. Sometimes the situation — like the situation that poor frog is in — really has to change. Otherwise, it’s game over.
I have some suggested reading. I admit I haven’t read this book yet, but I have read excerpts and an interview with the author, and already it has helped me understand the importance of disagreement. I can’t wait to get my hands on this book. So, High Conflict: Why We Get Trapped and How We Get Out, by journalist Amanda Ripley. I came across Ripley in an interview by Hanna Rosin, podcasting for The Atlantic1. I also recommend this video by Utah governor Spencer Cox, explaining his “Disagree Better” initiative, which is also covered in the podcast. The gist of both Ripley’s approach and Governor Cox’s is this: the point of arguing is not to win. It’s to understand the other person, yourself, or the problem better — preferably all three. The argument might not change anyone’s mind, at least not immediately. It doesn’t need to, and it’s better if that’s not your goal. But if it’s respectful and civil, disagreement can help all the parties understand the complexities of the situation and one another better. It will also help everyone reach a compromise or consensus. As Cox says, be curious, listen more, and attack ideas not people.
Somewhere in the middle of the podcast, Rosin asks Ripley a key question. “Why does the person who you think is harmful deserve your understanding?”
Ripley’s response is, “Because we have kids together.” She goes on to explain that disagreement is a lot like divorce. “You can get divorced, but you’ve got kids together. You still have to work together.” You can’t do that if you’re “stuck in a perpetual cycle of blame and hostility.”
And who are the kids we have together? They are the upcoming generations of young Americans. We owe them something better than a mess.
It’s way late, and I need to go see how my germy husband is doing. Till next time, stay warm!
"How to Have a Healthy Argument,” Radio Atlantic podcast, November 23, 2023
Thanks much for the lead on The Atlantic Radio podcast. Another good essay here!
"Because we have kids together" - profound and astute. Thanks for your wise and persuasive words.