the need for discourse

Recently, I found myself discussing with a third party a friendship that I have with somebody whose political views are very different from my own. I can't remember my exact phrasing, but after describing how much I liked this person, I added the caveat-- "... oh, but we don't discuss politics." Along these lines, an unabashedly liberal friend was recently explaining to me that she doesn't interact much with 'hard core conservatives', because it only serves to frustrate her. We were both, I suspect, employing exaggeration. Nevertheless, there is some truth behind these statements, and I find it troubling.

At a very basic level, surrounding ourselves with only like-minded people seems antithetical to personal growth and to having an open, evolving mind. Engaging, earnestly and sincerely, with those who disagree with us allows us to see things from different perspectives, learn about the limits and problems with our views, and occassionally change our opinions. In other cases, our views can be made richer and stronger by having actively worked through challenges to them.

It's hardly a contentious notion that one will have more thoughtful, well informed ideas if one interacts with people with whom one disagrees. Nor is it particularly contentious that our ideas are more likely to stagnate if we surround ourselves with people who share our points of view. This feels intellectually lazy and unproductive. In his new book, Going To Extremes, Cass Sunstein argues that the threat posed by intellectual self segregation is actually much worse than this. Drawing on real world examples, and on studies in behavioural and social psychology, he makes the following point: when a group of like minded people engage in discussion on an issue about which they generally agree, the group will usually end up coming to a stronger, more extreme view than the average individual came into the discussion with. This makes sense, when we consider that one is likely to hear new arguments that support the same basic view, and have his own arguments reinforced. In the absence of credible challenges to the group's prevailing point of view, indivuals are likely to get an inflated sense that their view is 'right', and this, I think, is a dangerous thing.

I first considered the notion of mob mentality studying To Kill a Mockingbird in high school English. While probably an extreme example, there is a parallel. It does feel like we're embracing an intellectual 'mob mentality' when we choose to close ourselves off from people with differing views. Lost in a crowd of the like-minded, we can dispense with the inconvenience of questioning our positions. Inevitably, this will cause us to make decisions that are not warranted on merit.

College facilitated this discourse in a unique way. First and foremost, I spent four years living in close quarters with people from a wide variety of backrounds and ideological perspectives. Many of these people became close friends, and inevitably, many of them were different from me. Beyond this, the notion of classwork explicitly encourages this kind of discourse. Students are made, formally and informally, to challenge their views and defend them with rigour. In a post-college life, it is much harder to facilitate this discourse. The classwork is gone, and we interact with far fewer people on a day to day basis. Moreover, we naturally tend to socialize with people with similar perspectives. Freed from assigned coursework, we choose to read books that reinforce our views.

So what are the solutions? Public spaces and public forums can help. It is an unfortunate paradox that developed societies like ours, with such emphasis on free speech, tend to be so fixated on private life. Some of it comes down to us as individuals. We need to make the decision to cultivate relationships with people who disagree with us, to read books that challenge our beliefs, to engage in active public intellectualism. We'll all benefit from leaving our comfort zones.

Easier said than done.