By Phil Huber, ADVANCE COLUMNIST
In my family, we generally avoid politics. Not because we agree, but because we don’t.
Our family includes Republicans and an independent, with differing views that do not fit neatly into political labels. Some are willing to discuss politics. One daughter would rather not discuss it at all. Usually, we leave the subject alone, although it comes up when someone wants to talk.
We have not resolved our differences. We have simply chosen not to make political agreement a condition of being family.
As November 3 approaches, I think that distinction belongs beyond our family, too. Our neighbors are not on the ballot. We are choosing people to hold public office, not deciding who still belongs in our lives or our community.
What I have learned within my family follows me into social gatherings with friends. Their political opinions differ, too. I try to listen twice as much as I talk, keep the conversation respectful and avoid talking down to someone simply because I disagree.
I say “try” because that is a responsibility, not a claim of perfection.
When you care deeply about the country, listening can be difficult. You hear something you believe is wrong, and the rebuttal starts forming before the other person finishes. Soon you are answering an argument they have not made, or assuming that support for one candidate means agreement with everything that candidate says.
I want to resist that temptation. Someone deserves a chance to explain what they believe, rather than defend everything I assume they believe.
Listening does not mean agreement. It means giving someone the courtesy I want when it is my turn to speak.
That distinction matters. I am not suggesting that every political position is equally sound, that facts are optional or that harmful conduct deserves a polite shrug. We should examine claims, challenge dishonesty and explain why we believe a policy would hurt people.
But I can challenge an argument without treating the person making it as foolish. I can ask a question without making it a trap. And I can acknowledge a reasonable concern without accepting the proposed solution.
A conversation does not have to produce a convert to have been worthwhile.
Perhaps I understand someone’s priorities better. Perhaps they understand mine. Perhaps we discover that we share a concern but disagree about how to address it. Or perhaps we simply end the conversation knowing that neither of us was willing to humiliate the other.
That is worth something.
So is respecting a boundary. When my daughter does not want to discuss politics, that is not an invitation to find a more effective opening. Sometimes the respectful thing is to change the subject.
We are allowed to enjoy one another’s company without settling the country’s problems over a phone call.
Nor am I arguing that anyone must tolerate threats, abuse or repeated humiliation to preserve a relationship. Honest disagreement is one thing. Mistreatment is another.
My point is simpler: political disagreement alone should not automatically erase everything else we know about a person or everything we have shared.
November 3 will not be the last election. Local, state and presidential contests will follow. There will be other candidates, other controversies and other arguments about the country’s direction.
If every election becomes a test of whether a friendship or family relationship deserves to survive, what will we have left after several more rounds?
We need an approach that lasts longer than one campaign season.
For me, that means remembering that I am not entering every conversation to change someone’s vote. I can explain my convictions and still leave room for another conversation. I can care about an election without making every gathering a campaign stop.
It also means examining my own conduct. Am I listening to understand, or waiting to correct? Am I responding to what someone actually said, or putting them into a political box before I have listened?
Those questions are mine to answer before I demand better behavior from anyone else.
Whatever the results, we will still have families, friendships and a community to care for. We will still need people willing to work together on problems that do not disappear when the campaign signs come down.
I will vote according to my judgment and conscience. My relatives, friends and neighbors will make their own choices. I may disagree with some of them profoundly.
But I will try to listen twice as much as I talk, speak without condescension and remember that the person across from me is more than the candidate they support.
My neighbors are not on the ballot. Our disagreements will outlast November 3. I want our relationships to outlast it, too.
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Phil Huber is a retired Army Reserve colonel and former federal civil servant who writes about civic education, public accountability and national security. He lives in Fredericksburg.
