Conflict

There are two types of conflict.

In the first form, you have messy people attempting to work through a problem. They aren't perfect; they bring their own baggage, pride, mistakes, assumptions, faults, problems, hopes, dreams, and yes, sometimes deceit and hurt.

But, by and large, through their faults and messiness, they mean well. There could be selfish impulses and instincts, hubris, and a focus on protecting their own interests. But the overall intent doesn't lean toward hurting another, toward malice, toward destruction.

There's a spectrum here, of course, and I want to be careful to call that out.

But in many conflicts, you do not have one side aiming to injure another.

That's the first type.

I've been involved in more of those conversations than I can count.

The beauty of this first type is a possibility of solution, a chance to work through the chaos, and a hope of bringing everyone to the table to resolve the issues. It won't ever happen perfectly, but there exists a small window where a shared understanding between opposed parties can create peace.

To also state the obvious, most of the time we mess this up, we assume malice, we can't imagine the offending party could mean well, and we can't see a way to [steelman] their position. So many problems in society arise from our lack——on both ends——to come together and reason.

I want more of these conflicts, assuming they meet resolution. I want more openness, more coming to the table, more discussion, more people examining their differences, setting aside the assumption of malice, working through misunderstandings, and seeing that the other side—flawed though they may be and with all the baggage of humanity entailed—really does not mean them harm.

Then there's the second sort of conflict.

And this one should be treated with an entirely different expected outcome.

Now, before I go on, I want to clarify something. You don't always know which type you're in at the outset. They can look similar in their origin. So, throughout the ordeal, it's critical to retain belief in the humanity of the opposition.

We should never presuppose that we're in the second type and villainize, or worse, demonize the person we disagree with. Because, even if we are in that second, we owe it to ourselves and our opponents to still see them as human.

By always assuming evil, we create a dangerous world where we risk escalation and further harm.

But the second type does exist and requires extreme care when handling it.

Yes, we need to humanize; yes, we need to see the other side as flawed but worthy. And, in doing so, we sometimes can bring around——or, let's be candid, be brought around by——a mind that we viewed as intractable. It can happen; I've seen it.

But, in that second, we often have another element to consider.

Where the first is usually well-meaning people debating details, arguing over process, wrestling through communication, and ultimately trying to accomplish goals in different ways, well, the second involves the well-being of people, protection of the vulnerable, and the reality of harm.

That's not to say the first can't harm. It absolutely does, often with devastating results. But the intentionality, the purpose, is not with ill will. Often it's done with mere bumbling and faulty words.

But the second? It's intended to put down, to stop, to cause harm to another. The person creating the damage may not realize it, may believe their views righteous, their actions necessary. But the fruit of their work reveals the truth: that the vulnerable among us——those who cannot speak for themselves——will get hurt.

And, when we enter into this type of conflict, we step into the fray with a whole other purpose, a mission and a need to care for those who cannot speak up for themselves.

It's tricky because of the spectrum I alluded to. Harm happens in all areas; real damage can be done. People hurt, people needing help and love as a result.

But it's a spectrum of degrees.

In the second type, lives can be at stake. All we need do is look to the past to see how the people outside the table of debate reap the benefits of the argument.

If we enter into such a wrestling match, we need to consider who isn't present, who isn't seen, or who would be hurt the most by a wrong outcome.

We can't dehumanize our opponents, because in doing so we can easily imagine a type of human that doesn't exist and rationalize it away——when the truth is we're all capable of atrocities. No, we need to hold them to account, while using our words to combat their hurt.