Rogerian Politics

I hate to keep blogging about politics, but it keeps coming up. In Sister Neill F. Marriott's talk, she mentioned an experience that gives us a helpful example of how NOT to express a political disagreement:

One memorable night a relative and I disagreed about a political issue. She briskly and thoroughly took my comments apart, proving me wrong within earshot of family members.

This is not the best way to win an argument. Attacking one's argument on a rhetorical level tends to engender defensiveness, especially when one is within earshot of others, and when one gets defensive, they are rarely willing to listen, no matter how good our arguments are.

Fortunately, there is a better way to present an argument. Earlier today, I had the opportunity to learn and teach about the Rogerian style of argumentation. Named after psychotherapist Carl Rogers, the Rogerian argumentation style begins with understanding and seeks to establish common ground.

The first step is to ensure that you understand the other side's point of view. This can be done by asking questions, listening, and then repeating what they said in your own words. It is helpful to acknowledge the valid points of their argument.

Once you're sure you understand the other's point of view, you can present your own point of view and seek to find common ground between them. Often, two people have similar principles, but different priorities or interpretations of those principles. If you can show that you share at least some of the same moral principles the other person values, they'll be more likely to be willing to listen to your point of view.

As you present your position, seek to find common ground. This is sometimes called a compromise, but that word has a negative connotation for some reason, so let's call it a Win/Win solution, rather than a Win/Lose solution. Too many people try to win political debates at the expense of their political opponents, but I don't like the term "political opponents" either. I don't believe that people have to be enemies. We can often find mutually-acceptable solutions to our political disagreements, as long as both sides are willing to negotiate.

Engaging in Rogerian argumentation in politics is fairly difficult. It's far easier (and more fun) to attack the other side and their arguments in an attempt to make your opponents look stupid, which is why so many people do it. But you can't win arguments that way. Traditional political arguments (complete with strawman arguments and ad hominem attacks) seldom convince one's political opponents to soften their position. In fact, the opposite is far more likely. If we are to have any hope of helping others understand, and perhaps accept, our point of view, we have to reject the traditional form of political argumentation and take a gentler approach instead.

The Rogerian approach to argumentation isn't common in our political climate, but I believe it should be. If we engage more in Rogerian politics than traditional arguments, we will be more likely to bring people together and find Win/Win solutions, and less likely to drive friends, family, and the nation apart.

Politics in Moderation

Not to be confused with Moderation in Politics. That's a topic for another day.

While I was blogging about sharing our light and articulating our faith, I forgot to mention one caveat: It's exhausting. Political conversations, especially heated and/or complex ones, can be spiritually draining. I'm sure that there are some people who thrive on argumentation and conflicts of opinion, but I'm not one of them. I am open to hearing and pondering other people's opinions, but after a lengthy discussion, I find that I need time to cool down and process my thoughts before I'm ready to rejoin the conversation. If this sounds familiar to you, don't worry about it. We don't need to feel like we're shirking our spiritual and civic responsibilities if we find that we need to take a rest. There is wisdom in stepping back every so often to get a fresh perspective and a moment of peace. It is important to discuss political opinions and policies, but it's also important to know when to stop.

"Articulate Your Faith"

This may only be because I'm becoming increasingly interested in politics, but I noticed that a handful of the speakers at this General Conference at least touched on what I would consider political topics. I was surprised, however, to see that this trend started with the very first talk of this General Conference.

In her talk, Turn On Your Light, Sister Sharon Eubank counselled her fellow sisters to "Articulate [their] faith." The way she defined it, "Being articulate means to clearly express how you feel about something and why." To highlight this, she shared an experience she had on Facebook earlier this year. She saw a post that criticised Christianity. Not knowing how to respond, she scrolled past it, only to see later that someone else posted the response she wished she had made. She then encouraged us (or at least the sisters among us) to learn how to articulate our faith, testimonies, and experiences, so we will be able to share our light with those who challenge it. She said that we should follow the counsel of the apostle Peter to "be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you."

As I've said previously on this blog, I think that it's spiritually important, for everyone's sakes, for us to get involved in political discussions. They can be uncomfortable and unpleasant. We may lose a few friends. But I feel that it's important for people to speak their minds (preferably respectfully). In a world that is continuing to darken and that needs the light of Christ more than ever before, we need to be willing to turn of the lights we carry so we can shed light on the darkness in the world and illuminate a better path.

Unfortunately, this means talking to people. And, if that's not already bad enough, it means talking to them about two things that are considered somewhat taboo: religion and politics. Some would prefer to keep them separate. Some would prefer not to discuss religion at all. But when our public policies are founded on moral principles, and when many of our moral principles come from God, God must get involved in our political conversations. And we need to have and get involved in these conversations more frequently if our political situation is to get any better.

As painful and awkward as it may be, we need to learn how to articulate our faith and express it, even in the political arena. People need our light and our testimonies. We need to learn how to share them.

Carry Your Lights

Yesterday, I had planned to go to an evening institute class, but there was just one problem: I had forgotten to bring my bicycle lights. On a normal day, I don't need my bike lights. On a normal day, I leave school and arrive at home well before sunset - no lights required. However, on days when I plan to stay out extra late, I need to remember to bring my bike lights with me, so I can be safe when riding after dark. And as the days grow shorter, it's becoming more and more likely that I'll be biking after dark, so it's becoming more and more important that I carry my bike lights.

The world is darkening, and not just because winter is coming to the Northern Hemisphere. The world is darkening spiritually. If we want to continue to travel through it safely, we need to continually carry our spiritual lights. We can't leave our lights at home anymore and still expect everything to be fine. We will encounter spiritual darkness more and more frequently as the world drifts farther and farther away from God, and we need to be ready to fend off that darkness with our own spiritual lights.

Carrying  our spiritual lights with us can be a chore, and it might even annoy or offend some people, but it is necessary for our own sakes and for the sakes of anyone who is willing to follow our examples. God wants us to be "a light on the hill," but we will need to have our lights with us constantly in order to do that. We need our lights in order to get ourselves safely through the darkness, let alone guide others through the darkness back toward the light. Yesterday, I didn't have my lights with me because I forgot I'd need them. In this increasingly darkening world, we can no longer afford to forget to carry our lights.

Good Rags

Earlier today, I was looking for a good rag to use for a messy job, and something in the back of my mind wondered whether that was an oxymoron. If a piece of cloth was tattered enough to be considered a "rag," how could it still be considered "good"? I reasoned that a rag could be good if it was good enough for the job that needed doing. The job I was doing was a messy one, too messy for an untattered cloth, so I figured that a slightly tattered rag would be good enough. In fact, when I found a wash cloth with a small hole in it, I actually said "Perfect," because I felt that that rag would be perfect for the job.

No person, save Jesus, has ever been perfect. We all have imperfections, tatters and holes, that make us more like rags than like undamaged pieces of cloth. Yet, despite our imperfections, God sees a lot of good in us, and He often puts us to good use. In fact, if we let Him direct us, He can place us into positions where we are actually practically perfect for the jobs He wants us to do. We each have our personal strengths and weaknesses, our features and our flaws, and because God knows them all perfectly, He can select tasks for us that account for, and possibly even make good use of, the weaknesses we have.

Though we are imperfect, we are perfect for the work God wants us to do. Though our faults and weaknesses may make us somewhat like rags, God sees the good in us and the good that we can do. It's not an oxymoron to say that someone is a "good person," even though no person, except Jesus, has ever been perfectly good. Similarly, when we acknowledge our limitations, we may admit that we are much like rags, but when we follow God's plan for us, we discover that He sees us as good ones.

Little Addition

My favorite Magic deck that I'm using right now is my Gideon, Martial Paragon deck, which uses a lot of small creatures that get surprisingly big and powerful. They accomplish this by giving themselves and each other small bonuses that add up to unusually high numbers. In fact, I myself am often surprised by the total amount of power my creatures have after I play a few Honored Crop-Captains or a Trial of Solidarity. Often, just three or four creatures have enough combined power to win the game, all by starting with 2- or 3-power creatures and adding power to each of them 1 or 2 at a time.

Similarly, minor effects in life can add up to having a great effect on us. An individual instance of scripture study or personal prayer may not add much spiritual power on its own, but when it compounds with other, regular instances of prayer, scripture study, and other forms of daily personal worship, these small bonuses can add up to a surprising amount of spiritual power.

Conversely, minor negative effects can add up, too. Individual moments of harboring negative feelings or thoughts may not weaken us much on their own, but over time, weak, negative influences can wear away the strength we gain from weak, positive experiences. If we wish to gain more spiritual power, we should minimize the weakening influences in our lives and maximize the positive ones.

On the day-to-day level, this may not seem to matter too much. After all, all these influences are rather weak, individually. But the good and bad moments in our lives add up surprisingly quickly, and our small, daily habits can end up having a tremendous impact on us. So we should seek out opportunities to take hold on minor spiritual bonuses whenever we can must up the energy to, and we should avoid negative influences whenever we can, even if they're minor. Small numbers can add up quickly, and the weak influences we experience regularly can add up to having a great deal of power.

Would You Rather...?

This evening, my family played a silly game called "Would You Rather...?" This game consists mostly (or entirely, depending on how you play it) on asking questions that begin with "Would you rather" and then present the players with two choices. Sometimes, both of the options are good, and sometimes neither of them are, but there are no wrong answers; each player makes their decision (then possibly does some game-related thing, like moving a marker on a board) and then everyone moves on to the next question.

Life works kind of like that. Every so often, we are asked to choose what we would rather do. There are always more than two options, and sometimes there are right and wrong answers, but we are almost constantly being forced to make choices. There are times when we can choose between two or more good options, and we can take our pick, and sometimes, we are forced to choose between two unpleasant options, and we have to pick our poison, but we almost always (if not always) have choices.

As difficult as it can be to make tough decisions, I'm glad that God leaves those decisions up to us. Yes, there are choices He asks us to make and choices He asks us not to make, but there are also many choices He lets us make with no input or judgement from Him. God has given us commandments, but He has also given us a good deal of freedom that we can explore while keeping the commandments. I am grateful when God gives me clear directions, but I'm also grateful when God asks "Would you rather..." and then lets me choose my own path.