How to Talk to "The Other Side"
If you must.
Every time I share my opinion, the damndest thing happens:
People have DIFFERENT opinions.
Don’t they know I spend an inordinate amount of time forming my opinions? I rehearse arguments in the shower like it’s opening night at the Off-Broadway production of Socratic Dialogue: The Musical. I fall down 3 am Wikipedia rabbit holes. I listen to podcasts hosted by men named Malcolm or Ezra or Chidi. My opinions have footnotes.
And then someone shows up with theirs, something freshly harvested from the Instagram for you tab, and wants to square up.
I mean, y’all.
Why do these people LIVE NEAR ME?
Did I not sign a lease in the Thoughtfully Moderate Historic District?
And now I’m supposed to interact with them? At school pickup? At family dinner? On Threads?
Okay, fine. I took a break from internally screaming and did some research on how to have conversations with humans who believe incorrect things. (See what I did there? That’s Step 1.
Step 1: Pretend you respect them
This is an acting challenge. Think Meryl Streep playing a yoga instructor who just found out her student stormed the Capitol.
The key is to fake it well enough that your internal monologue (”I cannot BELIEVE you just said that”) doesn’t leak out through your eyebrows.
This is called mutual respect.
It involves something psychologists call “feeling heard.” (You might remember this from kindergarten or your last marriage.)
In these moments, I repeat to myself:
“Empathy doesn’t mean endorsement.”
Because no, I do not endorse your theory that the moon landing was faked by Pixar. But I will nod politely until you stop speaking.
Step 2: Find a shared identity
Sometimes it’s easy:
“We both have kneecaps!”
“I also enjoy inhaling air!”
“Wow, you also believe in dogs? Incredible!”
Other times, you have to dig deeper:
“We are both people who have, at some point, eaten soup.”
This is called bridging. It’s how you go from “That person is a threat to democracy” to “That person enjoys grilled cheese. I, too, enjoy grilled cheese. Maybe there’s hope.”
Step 3: Frame it right
Are you a liberal talking to a conservative? Use frames like:
🇺🇸 Patriotism
🧼 Purity
🏛️ Preserving tradition
Are you a conservative talking to a liberal? Try:
🥫 Helping the vulnerable
🌱 Equity
🎟️ Dismantling systemic oppression one awkward Slack emoji reaction at a time
Reframing is the art of saying:
“This thing I believe in is ALSO the thing you believe in, but in a different typeface.”
Step 4: Ask better questions
Bad questions:
“How can you believe that nonsense?”
“Don’t you love your children?”
“Did you eat paint chips as a child?”
Better question:
“How do you know that’s true?”
or
“Can you walk me through how that policy works?”
There’s real research on this. Not TikTok research. Actual research, by people with glasses. And tenure.
Apparently, when people are asked to explain something in detail, they often realize they... can’t. It’s called the Illusion of Explanatory Depth.
(Make that your band name.)
Step 5: Repeat. Poorly. Then try again.
You’re going to fail at this. Badly. You will feel sweaty. You will say dumb things. You will think of a perfect comeback in the parking lot 40 minutes later.
Congratulations. That’s growth.
The Ethical Technologist Weighs In
Listen, friends. I’m terrible at this. I hate Step 4. I don’t ask questions. I debate. I logic-trap. I start mentally writing Substack rebuttals mid-conversation.
But I’m learning. Slowly. Painfully. One failed family reunion at a time.
What I’ve learned is this:
We are all under cognitive load collapse.
We are maxed out on decisions, notifications, and global instability with a side of dental bills.
So maybe, just maybe, when someone starts spouting garbage, I don’t need to prove them wrong in a blaze of hyperlinks.
Maybe I just ask:
“Where’d you hear that?”
“What makes that feel true to you?”
And maybe we both leave with our dignity and our casseroles intact.