When Politics Blinds Us to the Humanity of Others
Red and blue thinking turns our opponents into monsters.
Well, we’ve reached the season when arguing about politics online becomes a national pastime. I mean, at this point, it seems like we argue about about politics online all the time, but it’s especially dominant right now (for reasons that are self-evident).
I like to read history, and it’s not lost on me that our political system has always faced controversy (just study up on the Federalist and Anti-Federalist rivalry). I don’t look at the political landscape today and think: “This is the maddest we’ve ever been at each other.” I do worry, however, about the way we’ve turned people who vote opposite us into monsters, devoid of anything that resembles humanity.
Years ago, writer Scott Alexander offered a perfect example of this phenomenon. I first heard about the anecdote in a little book by Alan Jacobs, and I can’t help but think about it every time I watch a conversation about politics unspool into chaos.
Alexander writes:
The worst reaction I’ve ever gotten to a blog post was when I wrote about the death of Osama bin Laden…I didn’t come out and say I was happy he was dead. But some people interpreted it that way, and there followed a bunch of comments and emails and Facebook messages about how could I possibly be happy about the death of another human being, even if he was a bad person? Everyone, even Osama, is a human being, and we should never rejoice in the death of a fellow man.
Then, in a twist (which is not really a twist if you’ve ever met a human being), Alexander notes a change in tune when Margaret Thatcher, the conservative former prime minister of Great Britain, died:
And on my Facebook wall—made of these same “intelligent, reasoned, and thoughtful” people—the most common response was to quote some portion of the song “Ding Dong, the Witch Is Dead.” Another popular response was to link the videos of British people spontaneously throwing parties in the street, with comments like “I wish I was there so I could join in.” From this exact same group of people, not a single expression of disgust or a “c’mon, guys, we’re all human beings here.”
Alexander summarizes by writing that “if you’re part of the Blue Tribe, then your outgroup isn’t al-Qaeda, or Muslims, or blacks, or gays, or transpeople, or Jews, or atheists—it’s the Red Tribe.”1 Here’s another way of putting it: for some groups, it’s easier to say a kind word about terrorists than conservatives. People who support Donald Trump are monsters, but Hamas’ actions on October 7, 2023 were a reaction to colonialism. For others, Putin or racists are more comfortably given the benefit of the doubt than the Democratic presidential nominee.
Terrorists and racists, depending on who you talk to, are misunderstood and flawed, and mostly exist because our outgroup did something to create them. Conservatives and liberals are, to other outgroups, filth.
Do you see yourself in this idealogical tug-of-war? How do you speak about (or to) those who don’t vote the same way you do? I think voting does matter. It’s not wrong to be worried about who takes office this January. But, maybe—and hear me out—people aren’t all bad or all good depending on who they select at the ballot box every four years.
Christian theology affirms the imago dei, the belief that every human is made in the image of God. We are not God, but he has endowed us with particular traits that make every person valuable and important. For many Christians, this belief evaporates in the heat of political conversations. My hunch is that this happens because we don’t trust God. Fear forces us to eliminate all rules and boundaries.
In emergency situations, you must take extreme measures to protect yourself or others. Normally, you wouldn’t pull a weapon on someone, but you do so when your life or the lives of others are threatened. From what I understand, a doctor or EMT wouldn’t normally perform an emergency tracheostomy (cutting open a person’s windpipe to allow oxygen to flow into their lungs) on a whim. They do so only in life or death situations.
When we think that the world hinges on one election, we live in this type of “emergency mode.” Thus, we believe (whether we realize it or not) that anything goes. We can treat people however we want because it’s life or death. Just the other day, I got an email blast from a Christian denominational leader saying the upcoming election was “one of the most important elections our United States has ever had.” I heard those same words four years ago. And four years before that. It’s always the “sky is falling” and the only way to save the country is drive to the ballot box and punch in your selection on digital screen (at least that’s how we do it in my area).
Because democracy always seems to teeter on the brim of destruction, we feel like we have permission to do whatever we can to “save the country”—including demonizing the other side—because everything is at stake. We simply do not put the energy into understanding or even listening to the opinions of others.
Jesus shows us a better way. The political climate of his day makes the United States seem quaint. And yet, he showed love to everyone—his ingroup and his outgroup. Most people are quick to point out that Jesus dined with sinners—the motley crew of his world. The outcasts. You know who else he hung out with? The religious leaders. The hypocrites. The people who worked for oppressive Rome.
Loving our enemies means loving everyone. Even the people who vote for a candidate you don’t like.
For goodness sake, stand up for what you believe in. Pray and walk out your convictions. Just don’t treat others like they are filth. On the cross, Jesus saw humanity in the very people who nailed his body to those bloody beams. “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Surely, we can see the imago dei in others, too.
Scott Alexander, “I Can Tolerate Anything Except the Outgroup,” Slate Star Codex, September 30, 2014, http://slatestarcodex.com/2014/09/30/i-can-tolerate-anything-except-the-outgroup/. Like I mentioned, I originally was alerted to this blog by Alan Jacobs’s How to Think: A Survival Guide for a World at Odds (New York: Currency, 2017).
I have to wonder how much our lack of conversation stems from lack of knowledge. When you see those street interview clips or a random person at the store, they never seem to go beyond the latest political talking head sound bite. CNN or Fox, it holds true across both. The aggravation and intolerance almost feels like a defense mechanism against being outed as uninformed.