You Can (and Should) be Friends with People who Disagree with You

Excerpt from The Painter's Salon by Alfred Stevens

I think I'm fairly open about my beliefs. I post about both my religious and political views, am open to discussing them face to face, and have a tendency to slip them into blog posts here. It's nearly impossible to become friends with me and not know what you're getting yourself into. Yet, somehow, there are occasions when it hits someone like lightning. Sometimes, this someone is a person whom I've known for years, and have discussed beliefs with on multiple occasions. Other times, it's someone who has been diligently avoiding my Instagram stories and is surprised when they finally open one. Regardless of how they learn what I believe, a magical phenomenon happens when someone finds out I believe something they don't: we can't be friends anymore. 

Of course, I would love to continue being friends. I am Christian and conservative, sure, but I have friends who are atheist and Jewish, liberal and independent, and I'm open to adding another friend to the bunch. But that doesn't dismiss the fact that there is a growing cultural idea that if you don't agree with someone, you can't be friends with them. 

"More significant than the answers were the refusals to answer. Very few would reply at all to questions about morality and religion, and such answers as were given were not serious." -- Virginia Woolf's A Society

I am no social psychologist. I don't really know why this happens, but I can make a few guesses. Focusing particularly on politics, we have a tendency to villainize the other side of the aisle. Liberals and conservatives alike make sweeping generalizations, calling the entirety of the other party stupid or evil, and this builds animosity. The more that my grandparents watch Newsmax and listen to far-right Conservatives calling the entire liberal party ridiculous and unintelligent, the more my grandparents will believe that half the country is stupider than the rest. The more my liberal friends watch videos calling conservatives Nazi fascists, the more they will believe that I am a Nazi fascist. In reality, though, most people don't hold their beliefs from a determination to do evil. Most people believe they're doing the right thing. Instead, we just have different values and research, both of which help us form different opinions. But to argue that because a person has different values, they are evil or stupid is to sow division and animosity.

It's these different values that really make the problem grow. My liberal friends aren't necessarily going to be mad because I don't support abortion. Rather, we have different values that lead us to our opinions on abortion, and for me to disagree makes them believe I think their values are wrong or invaluable. I may agree that women should have equal rights to men, and thus agree with the value that defines their beliefs, but by disagreeing with the belief itself, there is an assumption that I disagree with the value it's based on, which most people take as a personal attack. It's the same reason why so many people get offended when you tell them you're not a dog person. It's not that they really believe you're terrible for liking cats more; it's that they feel it is an attack on the values they associate with dogs: loyalty, friendliness, and companionship. 

So, one of the first reasons that people struggle to be friends with those they disagree with is that they perceive the other group as inherently bad, and thus, you become bad when they find out you are associated with that group, despite any good qualities you may have previously held in their eyes. So, obviously, the best thing to do would be for everyone to shut up and stop talking about politics, right? No. That's stupid. Living your life in fear of speaking up for what you believe is both a terrible way to live and a terrible society to live in. 

The solution is not to never share what you believe, but rather to share what you believe from the very beginning. You have to be honest about your values right off the bat, rather than pulling them out as a surprise of flaming confetti later on. This way, people can be aware of what they're getting into. If they really hate the other party that much, it's better that they choose to walk away before starting a relationship than that you both get hurt later on. And even if they are tolerant, it's good that they should know what you believe and thus who you are early on. 

But Hannah, you say, what about my crazy uncle at Thanksgiving, who's looking to stir up drama and call me a flaming feminist? Can't I avoid talking about politics with him? Yeah, duh. There's a balance here. If you sit in silence your whole life and never talk about values or issues with depth and nuance to them, you're never going to have deep relationships. (On the other hand, there are people like your crazy uncle who are just looking to cause drama and infighting, and who you should probably avoid engaging with too much. But your crazy uncle is the outlier, so we're going to stop talking about him now.) Every relationship comes with balance. Talking about your beliefs creates deep relationships that benefit both people, as you'll both hear new opinions and reasonings that might change your own and that will make you think about the world you live in. On the other hand, you have to be aware that bringing up these conversations comes with a risk, and it's possible you might have to deal with relational damage later on. But if you never talk about anything meaningful and you only have a surface-level relationship, is it worth it? Is security worth the loss of meaning and depth? I think not. You have to balance the risk. Engage and grow with the other person, but also be respectful of their beliefs and recognize where good stopping points are. 

"A man may be a heretic in the truth; and if he believes things only because his pastor says so, or the assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though his belief be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy. There is not any burden that some would gladlier post off to another, than the charge and care of their religion." -- John Milton's Areopagitica

Important to note, however, is the fact that you can't actually have a conversation about beliefs if you don't know what you believe, and why you believe it. The number of people (particularly in the Christian circle) who have no reasoning for their belief is appalling. If you believe something just because your parents told you it was true, that isn't going to make for a very lengthy conversation, is it? You can say you believe in Jesus, but if you don't know why you believe in Jesus, how could you ever persuade anyone else to, or even defend your own belief? The same goes for every other opinion. You've got to be well-researched and have reasons for your opinions. Otherwise, you're just a mouthpiece for others without any real opinions of your own. 

Do your research on your own time to develop your beliefs, so that you can be honest with other people and share your opinions with a genuine understanding. Be able to answer the questions they ask you, and admit when you cannot. But also ask them questions of your own. Seek to understand other people, even if you disagree with them. Seek to pursue friendships and relationships over common ground, and to discuss and evaluate uncommon ground. Perhaps you shouldn't ask advice from those with completely different values from you, but that doesn't mean you can't go out for coffee or listen to a new album together. Being friends with those who disagree with you will expand your thinking and your kindness, and will help you to deconstruct the villainy you might perceive others as having. You can be friends with people who disagree with you, and you should.