The one about different opinions

Back so soon, eh?

Well, it’s Friday. What am I supposed to do, work?

Ha, good one.

So, early birds vs. night owls, right vs. left, vegan vs. omnivore, electric vs. gasoline, and obviously the greatest dichotomy in all of history: Mercedes vs. BMW. It’s Mercedes. Beemers are for people who think tailgating is a personality and anger-management issues are cool.

The world is full of sides, isn’t it? Us and them. But before we cry “Forward!” from the rear and a lot of people die, let’s think about it for a while.

Difference is good. Difference is healthy. Society is like a great fabric, and almost every thread has some value, some function, and a role to play in the greater whole that is humanity. Every time we become sworn enemies over an opinion, that fabric frays a little.

And the reader is probably thinking: “Dude, it’s unavoidable. Those people have terrible opinions. They’re evil. They... drive a Beemer.”

And hey, I know. I know they give the damn things away with every erectile dysfunction diagnosis, but still, they could at least try to hide it. Sheesh. Show some discretion, people. At this point, they could just choose “The smaller the penis, the bigger the dick” as their slogan and be done with it.

And don’t get me started on those leftists... They want to increase taxes on billionaires, and I may be a billionaire someday!

And right-wingers? They want a free-market economy until the second it affects them. From then on, they want to manage the economy in ways that would have made Stalin blush.

And hey, I can see why both sides of any issue may dislike or distrust each other. Tribalism is a feature, not a bug. But I’m here to tell you that it’s possible to be friends with anyone, and I know this because I have a friend... who drives a Beemer.

I also have friends with absolutely questionable worldviews. But the seemingly obvious decision—cutting people out of your life because of one bad opinion—is, in itself, a violent response.

Navigating this requires a world of finesse, because it’s one thing to publicly admit that you like Shakira and another entirely to spout Nazi talking points. While both positions are bad, one is objectively worse than the other.

I know. It’s hard to choose.

The thing is, people tend to acquire terrible views the same way they acquire any other communicable disease. Isolating those who are wrong, hateful, or deeply stupid may seem moral, but perhaps debating them could actually help them grow a little.

Well, not the deeply stupid.

And maybe not the hateful.

But what if they’re simply wrong?

The world seems to be split on just about every issue, and we all like to think that our issues are the most important of them all. In reality, we tend to get emotional when an issue touches us personally, and we tend to minimize the suffering of “others.”

But, as a wise modern-day philosopher—me—said in a piece a few months back, pain is not a competition, and there are no medals for being the most miserable. Everyone, at every level of society, suffers from something.

Some of us can’t eat the right number of times a day. Some of us are sick. Some of us are at war and getting bombed every day. Some of us hate our jobs, and some of us have been unemployed for so long that we no longer have any self-esteem.

Some of us can’t sleep because the person we want sleeping beside us isn’t there, and some of us can’t sleep because we can’t get the person sleeping beside us out of our home without breaking about fifteen rules of hospitality.

Some of us can’t go out in public because we’re very famous... or very hated.

And obviously, some rich asshole is tossing and turning in bed right now because his Bugatti is the wrong color and he scratched it.

Every single one of those is a problem someone experiences, and every single one matters to the person experiencing it. Maybe I’m insane, but doesn’t every one of those problems deserve empathy?

Empathy is not a finite resource.

And yes, some of you are probably screaming “horseshoe theory,” “snowflake,” “weakling,” or “sheeple” at the screen right now, because to some of us beautiful humans, neutrality feels like opposition.

And hey, I get it, okay? It’s us or them, right?

Well, no.

There is no “them.” There is only us, and we need to face the fact that most of us genuinely believe we want what’s best for everyone. The world has a way of reminding us of that fact, sometimes with remarkably persuasive arguments.

One of my favorite stories about enemies becoming allies is the Battle of Castle Itter.

Castle Itter was being used by the Nazis as a special prison connected to Dachau, and it held a collection of very important people.

Well, French people, but close enough: former prime ministers, generals, political leaders, and even Jean Borotra, a former Wimbledon champion—because apparently the Nazis were collecting French dignitaries like Pokémon.

Then Hitler killed the monster who started World War II—thanks, Addie; enjoy hell—and the castle’s SS commandant and guards ran away. Unfortunately, other SS troops were approaching, and nobody expected them to arrive carrying release forms and heartfelt apologies.

One of the prisoners’ messengers reached Major Josef Gangl, a Wehrmacht officer who had already joined the Austrian resistance. Gangl contacted the Americans, and Captain John C. Lee Jr. drove to the castle with one Sherman tank and a wonderfully inadequate number of soldiers.

Soon, American troops, German soldiers, Austrian resistance fighters, and the French prisoners themselves were defending the castle together against the Waffen-SS.

Gangl was killed by an SS sniper while trying to move former French prime minister Paul Reynaud out of danger. He died protecting a man who, only days earlier, had officially been his enemy.

And a Frenchman, no less.

Talk about a redemption arc.

And no, empathy is not absolution, and reintegration is not surrender. But endless cycles of hatred tend to produce more hatred.

Go figure.

Sometimes we need to reach across the abyss and take the other person’s hand—even if that person wants to hang us and then burn crosses on our lawns.

And yes, yes, it was obvious from the beginning that I was going to talk about Daryl Davis. So, to get the most important question out of the way, let me ask: what is bigger in this man, his heart or his balls?

Because this absolute angel of a human being has spent about forty years going out of his way to befriend members of the Ku Klux Klan—which is like the Nazis if the Nazis were huge dorks, very bad at politics, terrible dressers, and hopeless at organizing.

Davis had his secretary cold-call a Klan leader who belonged to an organization that would have considered it entertaining to watch him die. She arranged a meeting and... they became friends.

Davis says his work has directly helped between forty and sixty people leave the Klan and has indirectly influenced more than two hundred to do the same. He managed it because hatred often grows from ignorance and fear—and both become harder to maintain once the person you hate is sitting across from you.

Am I suggesting that you approach protesters screaming themselves hoarse about gay marriage or reproductive rights?

No, not if you don’t want to.

But I am asking you to see them as human beings and try to understand what they believe they are protecting. Nearly everyone believes they have good intentions, and that is precisely what makes everything so difficult.

Tolerance of the person does not have to mean endorsement of the argument, does it?

Hate them if you want, but sooner or later, we will be forced to live together again. We do not need to meet halfway on every issue, but we do need to meet each other as human beings.

We should start shedding some of our hatred and trying to understand one another, because we are all connected—and we are all wrong about something.

All the time.

Now, it’s the weekend. Go out and do something bad.

But don’t forget Homo erectus: if it had spent more time being Homo studying or Homo working, perhaps it would still be around.

Sex is not everything, so enjoy it in moderation, kids.

War.