As we continue to attempt to wisely and respectfully navigate through a culture full of conversational land mines, often the question arises as to why.
Why the division? Why so polarizing? Why is conversation so hard?
By no means do we have all the answers. Also by no means will we ever think we do.
No doubt social media has fueled the conversation-less rhetoric; it’s easy to sit behind a keyboard and post something without looking another in the eye. No doubt, too, as addressed here recently, did the evolution of Twitter/X play a role, a place where journalists gathered but in the original 140 character limit, it was clear their objectivity was fanciful at best. Then, also, we have the rise of candidates on all sides of the aisle who believe denigration is an appropriate means of communication — and because we like the side of the aisle the wanting leader represents, our emotion muffles our wisdom, prompting us to cheer as opposed to demand better.
But as the division continues and we witness how the public continues to express themselves, there seems a undergirding premise that fuels the tenacious talk. (Note: it’s talk — not conversation; conversation requires an actual exchange of ideas… respectfully, hopefully too, of course.)
The premise thus that we find so fascinating is the number of people and number of us who in our expressions attempt to claim some sort of moral superiority. Let us define the term.
Moral superiority is the belief that one’s actions are justified by having higher moral values than others. It’s the belief that one’s actions and values are more just, ethical and/or right than those of others. They believe that they are clearly, morally superior.
We see it often these days. Haven’t you noticed what’s wrong with everyone else?…
Don’t you see what I see?
Don’t you believe what I believe?
And just like that, everyone who doesn’t think like me is wrong. In fact, we assume that if someone doesn’t think like me, they are simply ignoring an unpleasant reality.
The challenge is that to conclude that one is morally superior to another, we each have to ignore something… maybe it’s something I have to ignore in me… maybe it’s something I have to ignore in someone on my preferred side of the proverbial partisan aisle… maybe it’s something I’ve chosen to ignore in our current or most recent president… The point is that moral superiority typically only exists if we ignore something significant, something that makes the narrative we wish to present a little less true.
I appreciate much the insight of Stephen Batchelor, said so poignantly yet accurately. Batchelor is a Scottish Buddhist author and teacher, known worldwide. He once said, “The greatest threat to compassion is the temptation to succumb to fantasies of moral superiority.”
Oh, so true.
The belief or attitude of being morally superior kills our compassion for whole segments of people. It makes our content less credible, our voice less valuable, and builds blindspots of which we are grossly unaware. Moral superiority then gives free license to any in the audience to quit listening to the one who presumes he or she is more right.
Friends, let me offer a concluding, personal note…
One of the best things about writing this blog for the last 17 years is that I’ve had opportunity to realize how wrong I can be.
That’s not past tense; it’s an ongoing, current reality.
Democrats, Republicans, all leaners in whatever direction and members of other demographics, allow me to encourage you…
Resist the lure of moral superiority. Maybe then you’ll be more listened to.
Respectfully…
AR