Talking Politics at Dinner

I’ve always been one who jumps head-first into political discourse. A fair discussion/debate has always been entertaining for me.

I like making connections between our current socioeconomic issues and philosophy and history and religion and societal expectations. But lately, with the divisive nature of people’s opinions and the abundance of misinformation, these conversations are increasingly difficult to have.

I often find myself blaming social media for this polarization. The algorithms have become a sort of thought controlling entity. Each of us now living in our own digital realities.

People’s views are so polarized, and recognizing that someone’s view is different than your own seems to elicit only anger and defensiveness. I’ve had angry conversations with people for simply pointing out that the stat that are using to back up their argument is incorrect or nonfactual.

Hell, I’ve even had arguments where myself and the person arguing with me are in total agreement.

At this point, it’s like we are all on the defensive, unable to actually listen to the person opposite us. It’s exhausting and constantly has me on edge. Especially when some big event hits the news or social media feed. I know my timelines will be flooded with vitriol and backward opinions.

I also know that I can’t escape this discourse.

As a queer woman, and an individual who has high regards for peer reviewed evidence, my identity intersects in particular ways. And my refusal of gender roles adds an extra layer to the identity sandwich I find myself in. Often, it feels like my sexuality and intelligence is regulated to only being permissible when others want me to agree with them.

Like I’m a “diet straight” girl, not a “real” gay. Or that I have no idea what I’m talking about, when in reality I’ve done my fair share of reading and research into the topic.

This sort of dismissal of lived experience, research, and intersectionality puts so much tension in my bones. I feel denied my identity and intelligence. Especially now that social media, businesses, and certain governments seem to be reanimating the ugly rotten corpse of “don’t say gay” social policies and ideas.

But its much easier to be taken advantage by the powers that be when we are distracted by nonsense politicking. It’s like a slight of hand trick. Keep the angry masses, angry and distracted, so that the 1% can push through exploitive bills, legislations, and policies. And then if somehow the masses catch on to the plotting, simply do another slight of hand trick and blame some other small, niche, group of “unlikeables”.

Its a historical pattern we have seen time and time again. And it’s unfortunate, that like the generations that came before us, we are falling for it all over again.

I’m beginning to hate politics. And hating politics feels a lot like giving up. Defeat is an ugly feeling.

Especially when the victor gloats. 

But I think there’s still hope. The opposite of division is community. And talking to our neighbours, friends, and even strangers online can foster a sense of unity.

No community will always be in agreement, and healthy disagreement is important not only for relationships but also our democracy. To have a healthy debate, to actually be productive in our arguments, we need to stop and listen to each other and ask questions. Meet somewhere on common ground. Undo the brainwashing of algorithm-fuelled hatred.

And that starts with us. With those who are watching their friends and family be changed into angry people over conspiratorial facebook posts, or alt-news. We need to find the source of why they are attracted to these types of thought-ending discourses and understand that often, there’s a fear of the unknown lurking at the bottom of it.

There’s nothing wrong with fear, we all experience it in one way or another. But its easier to manage when it hasn’t grown into a monster.