Blog Posts

By Benjamin Kellogg, DCI Fellow

This post is a “meta” post. What is this blog? Is this a place where deliberation about particular subjects happens? Or is it a place for a second-order deliberation; that is, for deliberation about deliberation? So far, it’s turned out to be a mixture of both: some Fellows post about particular issues in the contemporary American political climate, while others write about how deliberative practice itself, as engaged in by the DCI, has improved their lives.

But there would be a deep irony in our deliberations about deliberative practice if we didn’t try to take a variety of different perspectives on the subject. So, I’m going to talk about deliberation by emphasizing its limits as a way of coming to a humble conception of what it is we’re doing, which I think can help us have a deeper appreciation for it and maybe even make us better deliberators.

What exactly are the limits of deliberation? This very website’s FAQ states in its answer to the question “why (deliberation) now?” that “a climate of tribalism is undemocratic and dysfunctional. If we hope to heal our civic malaise, we must learn to listen and respond constructively to those outside our own cultural groups. Deliberation allows us to do so.” Notice that we only say deliberation allows us to heal from the undemocratic tribalism of contemporary political discourse.

Deliberation is not, however, something that has the power to break down the many factors contributing to contemporary pseudo-democracy and build genuinely participatory democracy all by itself. So, it’s necessary but insufficient, just as the answer to the first question in the FAQ states: “Deliberation does not occur in a vacuum … Deliberation is a necessary but insufficient component of citizenship, and should be connected to and may co-exist with other citizen actions, from voting and organizing to protesting and advocating” (emphasis mine).

Deliberation’s being “necessary but insufficient” is all very well and good as an answer, but it doesn’t give us much of an intuitive, impactful picture of our exact limits as an organization. Let’s try to think through some specifics to get a better image: how far might we realistically see the effects of our program extending? Well, we can make ourselves and our small community: 1) genuinely more open-minded and better at listening to others’ views; 2) more persuasive in conversations with those with whom we disagree; 3) better at managing disagreement in our personal lives between family members, coworkers, etc.; 4) more knowledgeable and reflective about current issues, and so on.

While it may contribute to their effectiveness, deliberation cannot, however, do the other movements that are necessary. Deliberation cannot supply the additional acts of citizenship that are necessary for the salvaging, or the creation, of democracy. We DCI Fellows can be active citizens to the full extent that we are able, but we are individuals, and DCI is an individual organization, on an individual campus, whose cultural reach is far from universal. Even if we do literally all we can, there remains the sense that we reach a point where hoping that others will take up the cause of deliberative citizenship – and citizenship more generally – is the limit that we’ve reached. Indeed, despite all our efforts, American democracy could very well be unsalvageable. We might imagine ourselves supplying a necessary medicine for a dying patient just a little bit too late, getting there just in time to see their final tragic moments.

And if that were the case (even as we hope that it is not), what a ripe topic for deliberation it would be! It wouldn’t make deliberative citizenship be “in vain” – quite the opposite. We shouldn’t be disappointed with deliberative efforts because they didn’t save democracy, because feeling so would mean that we had inappropriate expectations of deliberation. Instead, we should appreciate that we who did all that was in our power to exercise our deliberative duties as citizens responding to the situation in the best way we could.

My image of citizenship here is perhaps a somber one, but it also a stoic one – I do not expect that I can change the external facts outside my control, only that I can control my response to them, my exercise of the duties on the citizen’s shoulders. If contemporary political discourse is to deteriorate further despite our efforts to the contrary, then we should face that possibility as yet another object of deliberative consideration. In fact, I think this view exercises the deliberative disposition of humility, in that through it we can appreciate our limitations. Facing the fact of our relative powerlessness before the tides of unpredictable social change should prepare us emotionally for the reality of what it is we’re doing – and make us better deliberators in the process.

 

By Elaine Hall, DCI Fellow

When sports teams take to the field, they represent their team with the distinctive outfits they wear. We can tell at a glance who belongs with whom because of their color and style. We recognize our Wildcats by their jerseys, and we can instigate a friendly but intense debate by suggesting that the old logo is cooler than the current one.

Jerseys on sports teams are helpful and fun. However, when we enter our lives as citizens as if we’re wearing the jersey of our preferred political or culture war “team,” we show up ill prepared for the task at hand.^[1] Jerseys in our common life are a sign of over-identification with a particular brand to the detriment of our full individuality and problem-solving abilities. To engage in the true work of deliberation, citizenship, and positive change, we need a broader wardrobe to support our engagement.

Political jerseys reinforce our divisions and imply zero sum competition. When the Wildcats take to the court, they must work with their own team and against the other. There will be a final score. Someone will win, and we want that someone to be our own team. There’s little room for reconsidering the desired outcomes or reframing the encounter for a different, more mutually beneficial result. As citizens, we are best served when we mix it up and collaborate. A good move by one’s political opponents is still a good move. Working together toward mutual objectives, even if we have different priorities or strategies, works best if we don’t overly identify with a particular team.

Further, and perhaps more importantly, team jerseys misrepresent the nature of our agency and involvement. When I wear a team jersey, I am identifying myself with other fans. I am also furthering a narrative in which the action happens in a different sphere from the one I inhabit. The real work is done by others (the players on the court) for my entertainment. In our lives as citizens the important outcomes are not professionals scoring political points, but rather citizens working together for better outcomes.

So, if we’re not going to wear political jerseys, how might we dress for healthy deliberation and citizenship? I would suggest that we dress for the work at hand. Sturdy boots and work gloves are ideal when hunters and environmentalists team up to clean trash from the roadside. While addressing the immediate environmental problem at hand, we can also get to know one another and build alliances and strategies around protecting the land we all love. Comfortable shoes and pants in which you can sit on the floor for circle time work best when volunteering or substitute teaching at a local school. Providing immediate, practical support to kids and staff in schools allows us to understand the challenges at hand and build common cause with others who care about young people and education, even if we have different ideas about what books should be on the reading list.

When we show up to deliberate, we can and should come in all the many colors, styles, and shades that represent us in our full, nuanced humanity. When we reject simple us/them categories, claim our agency and engagement, and get to work, we set ourselves and our democracy up for success.

If you liked this post, check out a previous DCI blog post, “One Team,” that also talks about the pitfalls of “teamsmanship” and the value of thinking about ourselves as on the same team – rather than opposing teams — when we talk about politics.

^[1] Thanks to Beth Silvers and Sarah Stewart Holland for the image of political jerseys from their 2019 book, I Think You’re Wrong, But I’m Listening https://plcmc.overdrive.com/media/4127787?utm_campaign=searchfeed&utm_source=google

By Elaine Hall, DCI Fellow

When I applied to be a DCI fellow, part of my pitch was that I have extensive practice at navigating discussions in which there is difference and disagreement. I am raising two boys. As human beings, they often find themselves at odds with themselves, each other, me, and the world in general. Simple decisions about whether to eat at Chick-Fil-A or Cookout, whether to watch MythBusters or Great British Baking Show, whether to play Hearts or Rummikub, can and regularly do turn into pitched logical and emotional battles for the upper hand. Certainly, the skills of fostering family unity while also negotiating detailed who-chooses-the-entertainment agreements have crossover benefits for facilitating deliberations on matters of broader concern, right?

In my daily life, I often have to call a pause, remind folks to listen, restate the ground rules, and dial down the heat in order to problem-solve one situation or another. It turns out that what I’m doing constantly and informally, the DCI is defining and practicing in more formal and documented fashion. DCI has identified several key deliberative dispositions such as humility and charity that map closely to “I’m listening to your brother now, then it will be your turn,” and “  Learning to lean into these dispositions is the work of a lifetime, and it helps us thrive as individuals.

Whenever we engage conflict, or potential conflict, in the human family, there are particular skills that can help that go more smoothly. These skills are not easy. They often go against our initial inclination to storm out or declare “that’s not fair.” But they can be learned, taught, and practiced. As parents, teachers, and community leaders, we can take responsibility for building these skills in ourselves and fostering them in our people.

I have learned a lot from the work of Brenè Brown about how I can be attentive to my own experiences of vulnerability and shame, and thus show up in healthy ways when things get tough. The Gifts of Imperfection was a helpful guide to manage my own stuff as a new parent. She offered specific language and ideas for disentangling myself from judgment and perfectionism, allowing me to treat myself and others with kindness and respect. Within the DCI, we know that deliberators who can maintain kindness and respect are far more likely to be successful.

Dr. John Gottman has written on emotional health and emotional intelligence in families. His book, Raising an Emotionally Healthy Child, gives helpful guidance for teaching children. He says that the key elements are recognizing emotion, responding with connection, listening to understand and empathize, naming emotions clearly, and dealing with emotion in healthy, problem-solving ways. The same suggestions have been very helpful for my own growth. When we have the skills to recognize and move through our own emotions and discomforts, we are much better prepared to participate effectively in the hard work of deliberation.

Deliberation goes best when we practice nuanced skills for  speech and deep listening. The interconnected skills that foster strong understanding and collaborative problem solving are the work of a lifetime, yet we can practice them early and often. Whenever we practice stating our own needs and desires clearly and listening to others attentively, we are taking steps towards healthier selves, relationships, communities, and maybe even democracy.