Simon Usborne’s article made me reflect (The one change that worked: I quit fighting about politics with my friends and family, 7 April). Having been brought up to enjoy debate and argument, a good old “ding dong at dinner parties” was always fun. It wasn’t, however, lost on me that it could lead to frayed friendships, even if, in most circumstances, bridges were rebuilt. At work, winning the argument and driving change was all – regardless of the cost.
More problematically though, as a “good parent”, who wanted to impart the skill of debate, ensure knowledge of the facts and set clear boundaries for my son, especially as he moved into his teens, I found myself easily triggered to defend a position or argue a point – calmly – thinking that I was helping in some way. Actually, I was driving a bigger and bigger wedge between us, to the point where we had a truly awful to non-existent relationship.
It wasn’t until I went on some excellent Gandhi- and Martin Luther King-inspired non‑violent resistance sessions for parents and rediscovered the skill of disagreeing agreeably and “striking while the iron is cold” (letting it go until a calm discussion can be held) that the dynamics between us massively started to improve. We are now back at the point where every time we meet, we hug, we can hold good and calm conversations, and we feel like a good father and son. I have stopped trying to imagine him as the person I wanted him to be, and just enjoy him as the young man he has become.
Name and address supplied
Ever since retiring last year at the age of 84, I have – in a bid to stay in touch with community affairs in the small town of Ellon in deepest rural Aberdeenshire – been keeping a daily record of all the people I meet and chat to. Basic greetings of “hello” don’t count. To date, I have averaged 15 hits per day, barring Sundays when I tend not to go out.
Although I am reasonably active in the town, participating in a number of activities, this simple, daily communication has proved to be rewarding and informative, giving me, as a former journalist, the perspective hinted at by Simon Usborne. I would recommend it to others of my vintage.
Jack Nixon
Ellon, Aberdeenshire
Like many over the last decade or so I have developed a more polarised worldview: you’re pro‑Brexit or not; pro-environment or not; pro-immigration or not; pro‑cycling or not. I recently completed jury service and had expected my fellow jurors to be equally tribal, and to have to have some difficult conversations, but found almost everyone to be sensible, balanced, sympathetic and keen to get on with their fellow man and wider society. Mainstream and social media, by the design of those wielding power, has led us to develop a worldview focused on the extremes and, as Simon Usborne highlights, discussions related to these topics never end well. We are not so divided and need to focus more on the middle to build a broader society that works for everyone.
Tom Lavender
Whitley Bay, Tyne and Wear
I read with interest and empathy Simon Usborne’s article, which proposes an attractive zen approach to political squabbles at the dinner table. While I agree that avoiding hot topics that will turn a pleasant evening at home into a tension-filled battlefield is helpful to one’s quality of life and maintaining family ties and a measure of sanity, there is a philosophical issue that goes unmentioned: when does someone’s siding with the morally despicable make them unlovable? And, in that case, what are we preserving by maintaining a relationship with them?
Here in the US, lines are sharply drawn between Maga Republicans and anyone who believes in a kinder, less armed, more diverse, fair, equitable and just society. As we teeter on the brink of true fascism, intimate relationships with those whose values lie with the perpetrators of hateful politics can feel like a form of self-abuse. How much can we depend on or trust those to whom we cannot speak our heart? Can we trust that they would fight for us if we were detained or disappeared for opposing the president? There are practical considerations, not just moral or emotional ones, that must be considered.
DP Snyder
Hillsborough, North Carolina, US
I fully agree with Simon Usborne’s article and applaud his efforts. I have lived with non-confrontational tactics for a long time. I am the eldest of four children, and as adults we had our parents with us until fairly recently. They were both alive and pro-Trump for the first presidency term. So were my three younger siblings.
Needless to say, with this last election, and the fact that we had recently spent a great deal of time together caring for my parents, I listened to a lot of short-sighted discussions in favour of Trump.
Once I finally made my politics known, it was too late to change the outcome of the election. I had tried my level best to present them with other logical possible outcomes than the ones presented by the winning party, and evidence of past duplicity and actions versus speeches by same. But, after an embarrassing crying jag online with them, we just don’t discuss politics.
Certainly, things may change rapidly with the most recent developments in the headlines, but until something personally financially drastic happens, it will be passed by as “Disturbing news, right?” Then it will be “Why is this happening?” with lots of hand‑wringing for them, and tongue-biting for me.
Michaline Morrison
Nooksack, Washington, US
I agree with Simon Usborne to the extent that arguing with someone about a powerful emotional issue is fruitless in that the likelihood of changing their mind is close to zero. However, if a close friend or family member displays values that are not yours, it affects the closeness one is able to have with that person. After all, deep connection doesn’t endure with people whose core values are antithetical to one’s own.
Usborne writes: “I try to look for common ground, rather than the battleground, and try harder to understand where people are coming from along the way. At the risk of sounding virtuous, it feels good.” For me, that’s a cop out. As Elie Wiesel famously stated: “We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” It’s not about understanding where the people are coming from. There is no room for “understanding” values you deem abhorrent.
Paul Hoffman
East Greenwich, Rhode Island, US
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