I rose, heart pounding in my chest and conviction counterbalancing my quivering knees - I breathed out slowly and then,
"I would like to make a speech in abstention..."
For ninety seconds I addressed the chamber at the Cambridge Union, briefly outlining how neither socialism nor capitalism had any inherent claim to moral superiority, as each side was attempting to assert. "Both systems," I said, "are morally bankrupt - that is, they have no intrinsic value unto themselves as ideals, but rather, those who are in charge determine the moral compass of the political system. Unfortunately for us, as humanity, there has yet to be found a conglomerate of leaders that has not allowed corruption of some kind into their midst. Therefore both systems are riddled with flaws and extortive practices - in a word: injustice."
I feel this vignette is a fairly cogent picture of my natural bent. I prefer to disagree in order to better hone both my understanding and my ability to express it. And if not disagree, at least do my utmost to poke holes in the presented logic to ensure that the point being made is as sound as we can prove it to be at the moment and in the particular context.
My husband is, if not the opposite, the next closest thing. He prefers synergy and sees cooperation and "building upon" as the essence of that lofty goal. When we were first married, this was a massive struggle since he saw my approach as antithetical to his aims. We've both come a long way as we've learned to appreciate one another's strengths and found how we can, actually, achieve synergy through various means.
Living with him for the past seven years and learning together about our strengths and weaknesses (together with other, external life experiences) has led me to a profound and transformative conclusion: agreeing is one of the most powerful tools I have for creating and maintaining relationships where I can create meaningful dialogue and/or lasting change.
Before you draw conclusions about the above statement, hear me out. I have already exposed the fact that I have at least a little bit of the contrarian in my nature, so finding points of agreement is not about "fitting in" or "going along with the crowd" for me as these have rarely featured in my ambitions. Instead, agreeing has enabled me to listen deeply and learn humbly.
I grew up in a small town, largely surrounded by conservative, religious families that, at least in some foundational regards, thought like my own. For the past four years, I have lived in predominately liberal, irreligious or anti-religious contexts that, unfortunately, many friends and acquaintances from my past frequently disparage. I have found myself in a tug-of-war as I have established meaningful and, I hope, lasting relationships with people who hold vastly different views across a variety of spectrums. Do I abandon old values that I find unpopular or flawed? Do I take a strong stand against those with whom I work and live day-to-day siding with the traditions of my upbringing?
Here is where I have learned the lesson I alluded to above. I have found the most powerful tool available to me is the mental lens with which I approach any conversation - if I am looking to find a point on which I can agree with someone (rather than pointing out our obvious disagreements to begin), I find I can establish the kind of rapport necessary for us to have a productive conversation. For example, while a friend and I may completely disagree about the means to solve the problem, we can certainly agree that poverty is a problem and that we both have a social responsibility to alleviate suffering where possible. Perhaps we can come to a practical conclusion that actually works if we forego the wasted time of beginning by arguing about whether the poor are deserving or if the government should have a role in their relief. If we begin with agreement, both of us are more willing to work together to alleviate the suffering of the poor and to accept one another's ideas as at least worthy of dialogue. That's a much better start than the stone-throwing that prevails at the moment.
I know my own mind well enough that I am not overly concerned with being unduly persuaded (that is, emotionally swayed without consideration for logic or practicality) by someone else's strong-held beliefs or opinions, yet I never want to be so closed that I cannot even contemplate a perspective different from my own. By finding points of agreement, I have been able first, and foremost, to establish real relationships with people who think and believe very differently from me and have been enriched by their willingness to connect. Additionally, I've been able to refine what I think and believe without undue confrontation or offense. This perspective feels novel to me and yet, its nearly as orthodox as they come.
People say the pen is mightier than the sword - I'm pretty sure finding where we agree and starting there is greater than them both.
"I would like to make a speech in abstention..."
For ninety seconds I addressed the chamber at the Cambridge Union, briefly outlining how neither socialism nor capitalism had any inherent claim to moral superiority, as each side was attempting to assert. "Both systems," I said, "are morally bankrupt - that is, they have no intrinsic value unto themselves as ideals, but rather, those who are in charge determine the moral compass of the political system. Unfortunately for us, as humanity, there has yet to be found a conglomerate of leaders that has not allowed corruption of some kind into their midst. Therefore both systems are riddled with flaws and extortive practices - in a word: injustice."
I feel this vignette is a fairly cogent picture of my natural bent. I prefer to disagree in order to better hone both my understanding and my ability to express it. And if not disagree, at least do my utmost to poke holes in the presented logic to ensure that the point being made is as sound as we can prove it to be at the moment and in the particular context.
My husband is, if not the opposite, the next closest thing. He prefers synergy and sees cooperation and "building upon" as the essence of that lofty goal. When we were first married, this was a massive struggle since he saw my approach as antithetical to his aims. We've both come a long way as we've learned to appreciate one another's strengths and found how we can, actually, achieve synergy through various means.
Living with him for the past seven years and learning together about our strengths and weaknesses (together with other, external life experiences) has led me to a profound and transformative conclusion: agreeing is one of the most powerful tools I have for creating and maintaining relationships where I can create meaningful dialogue and/or lasting change.
Before you draw conclusions about the above statement, hear me out. I have already exposed the fact that I have at least a little bit of the contrarian in my nature, so finding points of agreement is not about "fitting in" or "going along with the crowd" for me as these have rarely featured in my ambitions. Instead, agreeing has enabled me to listen deeply and learn humbly.
I grew up in a small town, largely surrounded by conservative, religious families that, at least in some foundational regards, thought like my own. For the past four years, I have lived in predominately liberal, irreligious or anti-religious contexts that, unfortunately, many friends and acquaintances from my past frequently disparage. I have found myself in a tug-of-war as I have established meaningful and, I hope, lasting relationships with people who hold vastly different views across a variety of spectrums. Do I abandon old values that I find unpopular or flawed? Do I take a strong stand against those with whom I work and live day-to-day siding with the traditions of my upbringing?
Here is where I have learned the lesson I alluded to above. I have found the most powerful tool available to me is the mental lens with which I approach any conversation - if I am looking to find a point on which I can agree with someone (rather than pointing out our obvious disagreements to begin), I find I can establish the kind of rapport necessary for us to have a productive conversation. For example, while a friend and I may completely disagree about the means to solve the problem, we can certainly agree that poverty is a problem and that we both have a social responsibility to alleviate suffering where possible. Perhaps we can come to a practical conclusion that actually works if we forego the wasted time of beginning by arguing about whether the poor are deserving or if the government should have a role in their relief. If we begin with agreement, both of us are more willing to work together to alleviate the suffering of the poor and to accept one another's ideas as at least worthy of dialogue. That's a much better start than the stone-throwing that prevails at the moment.
I know my own mind well enough that I am not overly concerned with being unduly persuaded (that is, emotionally swayed without consideration for logic or practicality) by someone else's strong-held beliefs or opinions, yet I never want to be so closed that I cannot even contemplate a perspective different from my own. By finding points of agreement, I have been able first, and foremost, to establish real relationships with people who think and believe very differently from me and have been enriched by their willingness to connect. Additionally, I've been able to refine what I think and believe without undue confrontation or offense. This perspective feels novel to me and yet, its nearly as orthodox as they come.
People say the pen is mightier than the sword - I'm pretty sure finding where we agree and starting there is greater than them both.
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