(Illustration by Gerd Altmann via Pixabay)

OUR TODAY OFTEN seems more polarized than at any moment since the 1960s. Gone are the days of robust debate and discourse, replaced by shouting matches, social media pig piles, and a pervasive sense of resentment and anger that threaten the very fabric of our democratic society.

Even the human urge to reach out and calm tempers in hopes of restoring order are today under attack.

Just since the beginning of the year, we’ve seen progressive anger over John Fetterman’s meeting with Donald Trump at Mar-a-Lago. There was the outrage over the hug Gov. Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan received from Trump during a visit to her state – and her subsequent humiliation covering her face with a folder before an in-person meeting at the White House. We’ve also seen controversy surrounding California governor Gavin Newsom’s invitation of right-wing figures like Steve Bannon onto his podcast.

The responses to these figurative olive branches were brutal, with Fetterman’s actions derided as “crazy,” Whitmer’s as “weak” and Newsom’s as “arrogant.” They remind us that perhaps the only thing more dangerous than the growing chasm between political factions might be trying to bridge it.

But in America, we should never give up on civility.

For one, the consequences are too profound. According to a 2024 Gallup Poll, 80 percent of Americans believe that the nation is more divided than ever, and a significant portion reports feeling anxious or hopeless about the future of democracy.

When political figures and media personalities model disrespect and hostility, it emboldens the broader culture and threatens to erode the foundational skills of listening and respectful debate.

At the same time, silencing or ostracizing those with opposing opinions threatens our ability to have meaningful discourse. Often derided as “cancel culture” by those on the right, Harvard researcher Pippa Norris writes that “scholars may be less willing to speak up to defend their moral beliefs if they believe that their views are not widely shared by colleagues or the wider society.” This creates a chilling effect, where people opt for silence over honest conversation.

Recently, I attended the John F. Kennedy Library Foundation’s annual dinner, where former Vice President Mike Pence received the Profile in Courage Award. Pence was recognized for his actions on January 6, 2021, when he put his own life on the line to certify the 2020 presidential election as rioters outside the Capitol made a noose and chanted, “Hang Mike Pence!”

Some openly questioned whether he was deserving of praise for simply “doing his job.” I saw it differently. It would have been easy for Pence to capitulate to his boss’s desire or follow the crowd, but at that definitive moment he risked everything to uphold the Constitution.

So, at the event at the JFK Library, I walked up to the former vice president and told him, “My politics could not be more different than yours. But what you did on January 6th was courageous and an act of true grace.”

Pence thanked me politely before moving on. What I didn’t expect was that later in the evening when he saw me, he thanked me again. I’m not sure if he had been surprised a Black woman with an accent in Boston had reached out to him, but it was clear my gratitude had stuck with him. Likewise, his appreciation stuck with me.

I’m under no illusions about what our exchange meant in the grand scheme of things. And yet, when we step out of our comfort zones to recognize and acknowledge that behind every opinion is a person with experiences and feelings we can begin to form a mutual respect. At these moments, bridging the divide in America seems, well, less unbridgeable.

There are steps we can take as individuals and as organizations to further this respect – whether it’s prioritizing listening over speaking, modeling civil discourse to exemplify respectful behavior, steering discussions in the media and in common society towards facts over opinion – and by developing civics education curricula in our schools that teach critical thinking, media literacy, and effective communication.

Ultimately, it comes down to us. As we navigate these turbulent times, we should remember the words of President Abraham Lincoln’s second inaugural address: “With malice toward none, with charity for all.”

The divisions we face are real. But by embracing civility, demonstrating respect, and extending grace, we can begin to heal the rifts.  

Colette Phillips is president and CEO of Colette Phillips Communications, Inc., a Boston-based communications and inclusion-focused consulting firm, and the author of the book The Includers: The 7 Traits of Culturally Savvy Anti-Racist Leaders. She is a member of the CommonWealth Beacon editorial advisory board.