I’ve noticed something about the way we argue now: We talk more and understand less. Disagreement, which used to be a way of testing ideas, has been turned into something of a threat. Most conversations don’t feel like conversations anymore. They feel like performances. People come ready to defend their side, not to examine it. And once a line is drawn, crossing it feels like betrayal.
That didn’t happen by accident.
Somewhere along the way, we stopped seeing disagreement as a normal part of a healthy society and began seeing it as evidence of bad character. We assume that someone with an opposing opinion is ignorant, rude or blatantly wrong. The possibility that reasonable people can reach different conclusions is rarely considered.
Part of the issue is that we are encouraged from a young age to avoid certain conversations altogether. Religion and politics are labeled as topics that are “too sensitive” to discuss, especially in public or educational spaces. Instead of learning how to talk through disagreement, many of us grow up without practice having it at all — leaving us more reactive, more fragile and less prepared to engage when those conversations inevitably arise.
Real disagreement takes discipline. It requires sitting long enough to understand a position you don’t share. It requires separating someone from their opinions. And it requires enough humility to accept that you might be wrong, or incomplete, in how you see the issue.
Disagreement, most of all, is supposed to be productive. From the birth of our nation, every roadblock, piece of legislation and critical issue was addressed through some form of debate and disagreement. Leaders compromised and got work done. I reached out to Utah Sen. Heidi Balderree, and she put it better than I ever could when she said, “Productive disagreement is not something to avoid; it’s something to cultivate.”
We often mistake disagreement for gridlock and try to avoid it so it doesn’t slow us down. But in reality, disagreement leads to better solutions — if we are open to it.
Unfortunately, we’ve started treating questions like weapons. We see it most clearly at the national level. A simple “why?” is often answered with insults and beratement. Young people pick up on that fast. They begin to see questions as attacks on their beliefs rather than opportunities to understand.
As Sen. Balderree explained, “I welcome questions because they often lead to additions, subtractions, or changes that ultimately strengthen legislation.” She also said, “Respectful questions aren’t attacks—they’re invitations to stronger ideas.” If more leaders at every level modeled that belief, this country would be in much better shape.
One of the most interesting parts of Sen. Balderree’s career was her time on the Women’s State Legislative Council, a bipartisan organization. Members are intentionally paired with someone from the opposite party in every leadership role and expected to work together even when they disagree. “That experience deepened my empathy and sharpened my arguments,” she said, “because understanding the reasoning behind opposing beliefs makes you a better advocate — not a weaker one.” Curiosity does not water down convictions; it strengthens them.
Performative politics is what happens when winning the moment replaces winning the argument. Debate skips preparation and jumps straight to who can sound the most dramatic. Social media rewards insults and emotional speeches, turning politics into a competition for attention. That kind of performance energizes people who already agree, but it rarely changes minds or solves problems. As Senator Balderree reminds us, “Persuasion — not compulsion — wins the day.” Real disagreement should be about ideas, not acting.
What we need is more practice. Civil dialogue doesn’t simply happen; it is developed like any other skill. When we fail to cultivate rigorous, respectful debate, the result isn’t harmony but chaos, where misunderstanding replaces reason. Rather than shying away from disagreement, we should encourage honest, open debate — because that is how understanding is built and durable solutions emerge.
Disagreement should make politics feel smarter, not nastier. My generation has grown up in a world that often forgets that truth, but we have a chance to bring it back. As Sen. Balderree puts it, “Listening to understand, not just to respond, turns disagreement into discovery.”
If a 17-year-old can learn that, so can the rest of America.