Another Thanksgiving has come and gone, and I'm reminded of how separated we've become as a country, as a people, and as a family. My dad's side of the family is infamous for being on two opposing sides of the political spectrum so Thanksgiving usually starts out gentle and courteous, then alcohol (or boredom) sets in and the topic usually turns to politics. At that point, tensions rise even in the non-participants. Spouses begin nudging the main players, gently warning them to avoid the topic. Sometimes they even form a third team that begins a side conversation underneath the arguing about why Thanksgivings always have to be this way.
This is a tradition in my family that has existed for as long as I can remember. My grandfather used to add fuel to the fire when he was alive. I was pretty young, but I've been told of legendary political battles fought and lost over the Thanksgiving dinner table. These arguments got so bad that one notable year my aunt, who's normally the poster child for calm and quiet, suddenly yelled out at my uncle to "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I think it was the first time I'd heard her swear or yell in my life which made it all the more impactful.
Last night, the fighting was muted compared to previous years (maybe because the audience was smaller). I should point out at this point that I love a good debate as much as the next guy, but these aren't debates. These are two sides who will never see the others' point of view, never acknowledge the validity of any points made by the opponent, and occasionally will sprinkle in verbal jabs like hot oil on a flame just to make sure that the other side completely shuts down any chance of listening. They don't see the conversation as a chance to moderate the opposing side's position, they see it as a chance to pummel them into nonexistance. In fact, they play a sort of "Name that Tune" game with each other. Side A thinks they can name the point of the Side B's sentence in 2 words. Once that second word leaves B's lips, A begins their response - right on top B. B, who is speaking and hearing (vs. listening) at the same time, hears the first two words of A and begins modifying his response to address it. It's the fastest totem pole climb you've ever witnessed and the result is a long mashup of dueling monologues trying to out shout the other as if volume is what will convince them rather than substance. The only change in the brains of the those present is a throbbing headache from all the shouting.
If this sounds a lot like Congress to you, I agree. But in fact, it's Congress that's degenerated, not my family. As I mentioned, this has been going on in my family for decades and probably many other families as well and I've always counted on Congress to be the proverbial adult in the room. The children argue, they both think they're right, and the adults step in and come up with a reasonable, fair solution whereby no one gets everything they want but everyone gets something they want. Yet now congress seems to be acting like my family and that is not good for this country.
By far, the worst part of the setup is that both sides think they are moderate and reasonable. It's the other side that's not. It's a little like the statistical impossibility that is everyone thinking they're an above average driver. That part is the hardest to watch. It's like watching a Shakespearian tragedy. You can see both sides ramping up for a really unhappy ending and there's nothing you can do to stop it. I've tried to act as a mediator by acknowledging each side's good points and trying to act as a sort of vitriol translator. My job includes trying to turn "Bill O'Reilly is an idiot!" into "What he's trying to say is, he needs evidence from a primary source, not a secondary source" and "You guys don't want people to be able to get wealthy!" into "What he's trying to say is he thinks you're against wealth, not wealthy people's behavior". It works for a while, but the moment things start to get too reasonable, it's as if an alarm goes off in the heads of both sides and someone from the left yells out, "Oh? Did you learn that on Faux News!?!" or someone from the right says, "Oh? Did Governor Moonbeam tell you that?" and down we go.
That alarm actually has some ancient history. Human beings like confrontations to result in fight or flight responses because they're easier for us to handle. It's much easier to fight or flee than to reason through a non-fighting/fleeing response so we've created roles to help engage our reptilian brains. These roles are victim, rescuer, and persecutor and they're everywhere in our culture. Princess Leia? Victim. Hans Solo/Luke Skywalker? Rescuer. And we all know who the persecutor is. In fact, almost every piece of fiction ever created since the beginning of man has characters assigned to these three roles. Our brains are wired to see the world through this three-sided filter. Our parents argued in front of us with it as kids, it was how fictional TV characters interacted, how our history is presented in school, and on and on.
Even though we switch between these roles (sometimes moment to moment in the same conversation), we all have a preferred role in our lives. Like a favorite pair of shoes, this role just fits right. If that role is persecutor, we need victims so we either attract them to us or make them by pouring out personal attacks. If we tend to be victims, we need persecutors so we either attract them to us or persecute someone until they persecute back. Then, like a warm bath, we lie back and relish in our victimhood. If we're rescuers, we're always looking for the prosecuted and trying to jump to their aid. In a sense, rescuers are prosecutors as well. They're simultaneously prosecuting the victim by essentially saying, "It's ok. I can see you can't handle this on your own so let me step in" and then prosecuting the prosecutor on behalf of the victim (rescuer is my preferred role but it's not something I'm proud of. None of us should be proud of these roles). If we find a conversation steering away from our preferred role, we pour a little gas on the fire to keep it going in a direction that helps us react on autopilot. We do anything we can to keep from having to challenge our entrenched positions.
All this roleplaying makes for confrontations that can be every bit as explosive and unproductive as they are in TV, movies, or novels. The reason is obvious: we don't care about learning or helping others learn, we care about winning. Winning at all costs. Winning at the expense of a peaceful evening with family. Winning at the expense of hurt feelings. Winning at the cost of the truth or facts. The more each side cares about winning at all costs, the more likely that no one can claim even a portion of victory at all and the Shakespearean tragedy is complete.
Each year at Thanksgiving, I start out hopeful. Not that we'll avoid politics - I enjoy learning from all sides - but that we'll learn to see each other's side just a bit more than when we started and have a reasonable discussion. But the propaganda rivers run deep and the mutual respect is sorely lacking. Eventually, the reasonableness deteriorates into cheap shots and name calling from the trenches - much like politicians have begun to do. We aren't a better family because of it and we aren't a better country either. Maybe one day we'll all figure that out. In the meantime, pass the leftover turkey. I'm determined to have something about last night be wonderful.
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