In Northwestern University’s graduate school decades ago, my professor offered an example of how easily human beings can change how we define who is an “us” and who is a “them.”
Professor David Messick, an experimental psychologist and business ethicist, suggested that a downstater and Chicagoan could bitterly argue about all manner of social and political issues and, moments later, stand shoulder-to-shoulder cheering for the Cubs. (OK, if they are too far south downstate, they’ll be cheering for the Cardinals, but you get the point.)
As a native downstater who lived in Chicago for 10 years, married a Chicago woman and is a lifelong Cubs fan, Messick’s point resonated with me and is one I share with the college students I’ve taught for the past 38 years. His point also should give us hope at a time when our divided country is becoming even more polarized.
Primate brains, including humans’, are remarkably flexible. Neuroscientists, such as Robert Sapolsky, have shown how baboons can change a hierarchical social structure to an egalitarian one. Phil Jackson changed the culture of the Bulls 25 years ago so players could see each other, the team, and the game differently. Japan and Germany look quite a bit different than they did 90 years ago. Not every change is for the good, but our capacity to expand who we consider to be an “us” is something we should consider in 2024.
Change in the way we see things often starts in crisis. Those baboons changed after tuberculosis swept through the troop, killing the alpha males. Jackson took a team that had fallen short of championships but surely had the luminaries to win six titles. Japan and Germany rebuilt from their ruinous mid-20th century policies. It is hardly hyperbolic to say that our country is on edge today, but maybe rather than waiting for a crisis to explode, we can act first. What are the tactics that might get us to overcome our division before a polarized crisis goes too far?
Dodging the ‘us’ vs. ‘them’ mentality
For the last six years, I have conducted an exercise with students of all levels: Undergraduate, graduate, executive and even alumni returning for lifelong learning classes. How do we find an “us” in a person we are convinced is a “them?” I ask my students to find a cultural artifact (which could be about anything humans devise, but let’s start with music, sports and movies) that nudges them into a collaborative state of mind. What’s their favorite song or movie that sparks sentiments of friendships? What example of teamwork or sportsmanship inspires them?
Then they share them with each other. Even if they don’t agree with each other’s favorite song or baseball team, they quite easily find common ground, a shared identity. And with that shared identity, they expand who they see as part of their “us.” That identity might be a slender reed, but knowing they share something with a person, even if they disagree with them on social and political issues, makes for a space where they can civilly talk about their differences.
Those nudges become bridges. One undergraduate wrote that he and another high school classmate strongly disagreed on political issues, but after playing together for an hour and a half on a pick-up basketball team, they bonded over their “team,” which led to dinner, which ultimately led to living together, though without coming to agreement on their views.
An MBA student serving in the military and part of a band shared a story about a tense overseas assignment resolved, at least for the moment, by his band playing a song beloved by the audience. An executive education participant shared how she and workplace colleagues bonded over a TV show despite their political animosities.
Such stories can be dismissed as small talk. Yet they remind us that “them” is someone with whom we just might share something and, if we are a bit mindful about it, provides a way to create an identity to hold onto even when differing. Indeed, it is exactly because we politically disagree that we must find other parts of each other that we can hold onto.
If we can find these — and about a thousand of my students have done just that over the last six years — there is reason for us to hold onto some hope for our national unity.
Timothy Fort holds the Eveleigh Professorship of Business Ethics at the Kelley School of Business at Indiana University and is an affiliated scholar at the Kroc Institute for International Peace Studies at the University of Notre Dame. He is co-authoring a book, “Songs, Sports, Stories and Suppers: How Shared Cultural Experiences Can Save America.”
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