Civics 101: We Need to Talk

Somewhere along the way, we seem to have confused disagreeing with someone with needing to destroy them.

You can see it in the comments on social media; we hear it at public meetings. Someone raises a question about a project, a policy, or how the government is spending money, and pretty soon we are discussing whether that person is stupid, corrupt, or secretly trying to ruin the country.

Which is quite a leap from asking who is paying for the new fire station.

I have been thinking about civil discourse and what it actually means in a country where the people are supposed to govern themselves, because ultimately, we have to be able to talk.

We all have different interests, different experiences, and different ideas about what government should do, but we still have to share a town, pay for public services, elect representatives, and figure out how to live together.

The people who founded this country understood that problem. They disagreed about plenty. Their answer was to build a system that could handle disagreement.

We start with the Declaration of Independence.

Before listing their complaints against the king, the signers explained that “a decent respect to the opinions of mankind” required them to give their reasons for separating from Britain. They also said government gets its rightful power from the “consent of the governed.”

Those are two useful ideas to put together. The people are the source of government’s authority, and when you take a consequential public position, you ought to explain why.

The Declaration was an argument presented to the world. Here is what we believe. Here is what happened. Here is why we are taking this action.

The Constitution then established a government in which decisions would move through representatives, two houses of Congress, and a president. Article I even expressly protects congressional speech and debate from being questioned elsewhere.

That provision concerns Congress, but it tells us something about the importance of allowing lawmakers to argue their positions freely. Debate is the work of government.

Then comes the Bill of Rights.

The First Amendment protects speech, the press, peaceful assembly, and petitions asking government to address grievances. These are the tools people use to question power, share information, organize, and demand answers.

It does not say you may speak only when the government likes your tone.

Civil discourse should never become an excuse for telling people with legitimate complaints to sit down and be pleasant. A serious accusation deserves examination. Uncomfortable questions still deserve answers.

For the clearest discussion of how we should approach disagreement, though, we turn to the Federalist Papers — the essays written to persuade Americans to ratify the Constitution.

In Federalist No. 1, Alexander Hamilton warned that good and wise people could land on opposite sides of important questions. He urged moderation and cautioned that even people supporting the correct position could be driven by ambition, greed, or personal hostility.

Being right, apparently, does not automatically make us charming.

Hamilton also recognized the temptation to win converts through loudness and bitter attacks. He understood the problem long before anyone could type in all capital letters.

In Federalist No. 10, James Madison explained that differences of opinion were inevitable. Eliminating them would require destroying liberty or somehow making everyone think alike. His solution was to control the harmful effects of factions through representative government and a large republic with many competing interests.

So where does that leave us?

It asks us to explain our position and hear the answer. To check whether an accusation is supported by facts. To address what someone actually said instead of inventing an easier argument to knock down.

It asks us to consider the possibility that we have missed something.

We can hold firm convictions and still ask a fair question. We can oppose a proposal without assigning wicked motives to every person who supports it. And we can change our minds when the evidence changes.

Listening does not necessarily require surrender.

A local newspaper has a responsibility here, too: establish the facts, explain the decisions, and give the community a place to examine competing arguments. That work helps people participate with something more productive than a rumor.

The Constitution cannot do our listening for us, nor can it make us honest about an inconvenient fact. A republic does not require us to agree. But to make it work, we must be capable of disagreeing and remaining civil.

I used to teach my students that in a classroom we engage in "polite public discourse." It's the same in a community — we need to talk. And then we need to let the other person finish, and we need to listen.