In an online writer’s forum to which I belong, there was a discussion about debating politics and religion. The board had a policy of discouraging such discussions since they tend to create resentments. Some members lamented the lack of debate, others spoke up in support of the policy. I composed a post for the discussion, but then deleted it because by the time I crafted it, the discussion had taken a different direction. Besides, I wasn’t sure that my input added anything substantive.
During the course of the discussion, it became apparent that some of the forum members are enlivened and invigorated by active, even heated debates. For these people, debating is one of the ways they bond with others. If someone refuses to debate, it feels like a rejection. I’m stating this as best I can understand. I may have it wrong, because this is not how I feel about heated debate. I am only comfortable with debates if I am absolutely certain that the debate will not damage the relationships of the people in the debate. Generally this only applies with family members or friends who might as well be family. In all other situations, I will either act to calm the debate or change the subject. If neither is possible, I will quietly leave.
Conflict creates an anxiety state in me that is extremely unpleasant. It is like nails on a chalkboard or a sound that vibrates my teeth. I have to do something to end the discomfort. I usually take the “quietly leave” approach because the other paths are harder. Also because I understand that other people really enjoy debating, and who am I to destroy their fun just because it makes me uncomfortable. If the conflict is between my children, then I interfere, because that is my job. Even then, my natural tendency is to try to find the shortest path to Conflict End. I’ve had to train myself to not seek the shortest path if that path is either unfair or seriously undermines some other educational effort. The quickest way to stop a tantrum is to hand out candy, but that only sets me up for more tantrums in the future.
I’ve identified the roots of my conflict aversion. I learned it young. In college I had an almost-boyfriend who accused me of being passive and weak because I avoided conflicts. He was wrong. The amount of work I put into conflict avoidance is far from passive and I am not weak. There are times and places to go to battle for the things that I believe. I have battled before and I will battle again when necessary. I am just not willing to potentially damage relationships over a theoretical debate. This is particularly true on the internet. Text-only communication removes all the body language and vocal cues that let other people know that you still like them even if you vehemently disagree with their position. If you know the other person, then memory can provide those cues, but if not civility tends to vanish quickly.
Written words linger in ways that spoken words do not. The opinion I express on the internet today may hurt me or someone else months or even years from now. This is why I treat my opinions like knives. I keep them tucked carefully away until it is time for me to use them for something constructive. Even then the opinions have the ability to cut, just as knives can accidentally slice a finger. But injury is never my intent. I can also wield my opinions in self defense, but I prefer not to do so. Defensive people have stopped listening to others.
I’ve been accused of not having opinions, of ‘going with the crowd.’ I have many opinions about politics, abortion, religion, child rearing, cooking, gardening, household maintenance, and many other topics. Just because I don’t speak up in theoretical debate does not mean that I don’t have thoughts or that I agree with the speaker. It also does not mark me as narrow minded. I truly enjoy understanding how other people think and why they make choices that are different from mine. I just prefer to gain this information in an atmosphere of informational exchange and comparison rather than argument. These discussions have just as much potential to rock my world as debates do, but without the teeth vibrating anxiety of conflict.
I know that for some people, the way that I live is anathema. I do not believe that I am right or that they are wrong. We are just different. In fact I frequently ponder whether those who fearlessly debate are right. Perhaps I am just scared. Perhaps I should speak out more and accept the fact that some of my opinions will make others angry. But then I wonder why I should do something that causes anger when the same opinion in a different context would only cause interested attention. And then I think that if all the conflict adverse people like me never speak up, then the debate hungry people will never have a chance to understand why some people eschew debate. If people like me do not speak up, then debate seems like the only viable option for opinion/belief comparison.
And so I write this entry, choosing my words carefully, afraid because once a stone is cast into a pond I can not predict all of the ripples. This is me. I am naturally conflict adverse, a born conciliator. I can only be who I am and try to be a better me tomorrow.
I think at the core of what you’re saying is evidence of how you feel about anger.
I get very angry very quickly. That’s my personality. And then I get over it very quickly. That’s my personality too. Therefore, I don’t view anger as a scary thing. I don’t fear making people angry, because I just assume that anger is a natural emotion that people have and then quickly get over. If I make someone angry, I expect they’ll be over it soon. I tend to avoid people who stay angry, because I don’t understand why they do that.
For you, anger is a scary thing. Something to be avoided. So your actions make sense. I think my love of argument makes sense in this context too, since I don’t fear anger. I just assume people will get over it and no longterm damage will be done, since my own anger doesn’t cause damage to my long term relationships. Anger is just a part of interacting with people, according to my worldview. Your worldview is different, so you act differently. It makes sense to me.
That’s interesting. I hadn’t pictured myself as afraid of anger. I know I fear the damage that anger can do. If someone punches a wall in a moment of anger, the dent can remain for a very long time. I shall have to consider this. You may be right.
Perhaps fear is the wrong word. Dislike, maybe? Avoid, certainly. Avoidance isn’t always a bad thing.
There are times when avoidance is a very good thing. The question is whether my avoidance of angry situations is good or bad. I think the answer is “it depends.” There have been times in my life when I avoided what I should have met head-on. I’m learning how to tell when I need to dive into conflict and when I can avoid it.
I don’t like to think of myself as motivated by fear. I know that fear was a big factor in developing my conflict avoidance, but I’d like to think I’ve moved past that. So I much prefer “dislike” and “avoid” to “fear” in regards to anger. And yet when I talk about debate, I find myself saying things like “I’m happy to discuss in a safe environment.” That use of the word “safe” implies a level of fear.
Gah. *pokes subconscious motivations* Why are they so murky?
I think fear is exactly the right word. Speaking for myself here (and making the brazen assumption that Sandra and I probably have similar reactions because we shared the same upbringing) I fear anger, and used to be terrified of it.
For years, I expressed pent up resentments through sorrow, through angsting, through anything my subconscious could come up with besides anger because in my mind being angry was bad, conflict was bad, and all conflicts needed to be resolved as quickly as humanly possible.
This accelerated conflict resolution usually required the forced suppression of my personal opinions, as it’s not really possible to hold a strong opinion and still give the other person what he/she wants.
Finally worked through most of that, although I’m still conflict-averse. It’s not uncommon for me to be able to whole-heartedly agree to every argument expressed on both sides of an issue. This probably makes me look like a hypocrite, but really I think it’s just over-active empathy…
“over-active empathy” I love that phrase. I definitely suffer from this. It is crazy-making to be able to see both sides of every issue. I’m constantly hovering somewhere in the middle because to choose a side means that I have to deny what I understand of the other side. I can believe two diametrically opposed viewpoints to both be right and at the same time see how it is impossible for them both to be right.
Sometimes I love my empathy. Sometimes it drives me crazy.
I don’t know that I ever went all the way down the “anger is bad” path, but I was definitely on it for many years. I also don’t know that I completely suppressed my opinions, but I definitely keep my mouth shut. A lot.
And this thought is immediately followed by wondering if I should speak up more. I self-censor all the time. Sometimes because I don’t want to feed the conflict, but often because I don’t believe that what I have to say is inherently valuable to the discussion. If I have something to say that is completely unrepresented, then I’ll speak up. But if my thoughts have been partially covered, then my spin on them doesn’t feel unique enough to merit any attention.
I’ve had the exact opposite problem, in the past. I had problems choosing my battles, understanding that I didn’t have to argue every time an opinion that I didn’t agree with came up. It’s been hard for me to learn that sometimes I just need to let something pass, even if I disagreed with it.
There’s a middle ground somewhere, that I strive for. But getting there from either direction is a challenge.
I think sometimes being motivated by fear is an okay thing. By this I mean that sometimes we have fearful reactions to things, and feel like we should avoid them. One way to handle that is to evaluate the situation, as you say, and see if moving against our fear is a necessary thing. If it is, then it is important to ignore the fear and act. I think you do this. If it’s not important, though, then choosing to avoid the thing that caused the fear is not giving in to fear. It’s simply moving in the direction the fear prompted you to in a calculated way–not because you are afraid, but because you’ve decided that’s the best choice.
For a person who doesn’t feel this fear, moving forward isn’t even a question. But just because it’s a question for you doesn’t mean that you’re being ruled by the fear. You’re simply reevaluating things where a person who doesn’t have that emotion would not. This emotional reaction probably allows you to avoid a lot of situations that someone like me doesn’t avoid–like making people mad for a long time when I didn’t intend to.
That’s interesting, because I generally agree with all sides of an issue also. I just look at the arguing differently–I can make arguments for everyone, often better than they can. So I argue with everyone at once, agreeing with no one, because I can always see what the counter point should be to any point that is given.
That probably makes me really annoying to argue with, now that I think about it. I seem to have the opposite tendencies–I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut.
For these people, debating is one of the ways they bond with others. If someone refuses to debate, it feels like a rejection
This is it perfectly. I managed to frighten my cousin’s fiancee the first time we met by arguing about something or other that the Fiancee brought up with my stepmother. She (stepmother) and I argue about everything, all the time. Heatedly, on occasion. Because that’s who we are, and how we show the fact that we care about each other.
The young woman in question, however, was from a very quiet, restrained family. Who didn’t argue. At all. She was worried that she’d started some sort of family spat. Took several days to calm her down.
I understand oh so well about this aversion to conflict, Sandra. I’m very much the same.
Have you ever read The Color Code, by Taylor Hartman? Just like any book about personalities, it isn’t a complete picture, but it has some very good insight into some aspects of personality. I have no doubt that you are a white personality (with some very strong blue tendencies.) If you haven’t read it, you might find it interesting to look through. I wouldn’t say it’s a fear of anger, necessarily. More a strong desire for peace, and when that peace is lost, you notice the lack thereof.
It’s an interesting book especially because it explores both strengths and flaws in each personality type. The key, though, is to realize that none of them is necessarily superior or inferior to the other, but that each has strengths that can be admired and emulated, just as each has weaknesses that can be identified and overcome.
I am someone who likes a good debate, but there are times when I go out of my way to avoid starting one with people I am close to. I guess I just pick my fights in life carefully.
Ona
Amen.
It takes me conscious effort to argue back, I try do do it for friends who love to argue. I’m afraid I’m not very good at it though.
I’ve never actually read The Color Code, but I’m vaguely familiar with the theory. For some reason I’ve never wanted to be identified as a White. Perhaps because that same almost-boyfriend labeled me as one and for him it was a negative thing to be. In my head White = passive doormat. That is probably wrong, but those are two words I’ve never wanted to associate with myself.
Fascinating…
To the ending first: Please, don’t be afraid. I would hope you know by know that there’re lots of people here who like what they know about you. We may disagree with you – but that doesn’t mean we don’t like ya. *grin* You’re good people.
On that note – we’re – all of us – different people. We have our own strengths and weaknesses, our preferences & dislikes. That’s part of the fun! *grin*
As one of the arguments-can-be-fun crowd, and yet someone with at least a few crumbs of empathy, it’s always a bit of a shock to see situations where what I enjoy bothers others to the point of walking away. That I might have caused a “fingernails on a blackboard” level of sensation unintentionally – well, I don’t know about the other arguers around you, Sandra, but I hope I never caused you that kind of reaction the few times I’ve been in your vicinity! (Don’t THINK I did, but along with crumbs of empathy I also have rocks of cluelessness that some have claimed have infested what might otherwise have been cranial space…)
Onto another sub-topic (I’m a lil bouncy right now – caffiene and waiting for a certain purchase to arrive) – online communication. We humans love body language- it’s a tremendous communications bandwidth enhancer to other forms of meaning exchange. This crutch* of body language helps alienate us from online communication – if you can’t see the pain or pleasure in another’s body language, you’re not going to be as motivated to alter your behavior. (Note: some non-trivial portion of people are jerks, in physical reality or online. They enjoy seeing the pain. As such, I’m careful about how I claim reactions cause feedback loops.)
(* I use the term ‘crutch’ here deliberately. It’s a tool, and as such it’s capable of both being beneficial and detrimental. Similar to our body-language preferences as a species…)
Hrm. I’m even more disjointed than I thought I was being. *wry grin* Woops. . . I’ll stop now, but please do remember at least the first point. You’re good people.
-John
Seems like we must’ve shared a similar background.:) I enjoy a spirited argument once in a while, as long as no one is being dismissed, or on the other hand, being dismissive and throwing down absolutes.
My parents never once argued in front of me, and now I’m not so sure it was completely healthy. I never got to see people work out their differences in such frank fashion, so when I finally did witness people outside my family arguing, I would feel the blows of their words in an almost physical way. Of course, I was a pretty argumentative little sput, but it was different SEEING it, somehow. Anyway, as soon as an argument turns negative these days, I tend to back out. I have found I almost always carry regrets away once it passes that point, and it’s not worth it to me. Most of the time. 😉
I just wanted to pop in and say HI! Great website! I saw you posting at Codex, and instantly remembered you from the SF symposium in Provo. It was so nice to meet you, and I’m sorry I haven’t said hi before today.
Whoops, didn’t realize I was anonymous, not being a LJ user. This is Christie Skipper Ritchotte speaking. Heh.
Re: Fascinating…
Don’t worry about the fear. I am often apprehensive just before I hit the “post” button. I worry that my words will not convey the meanings that I intended. Also don’t worry that you ever made me uncomfortable. I can’t remember you ever doing so.
I think I prefer the word “tool” to the word “crutch” in regards to body language. “Crutch” implies an inability to go without.
Hi Christie! I didn’t realize you were on Codex. Did I ever send you that PDF file? If I didn’t, you can find it at holdontoyourhorses.com.
Good point about growing up seeing people argue. It is important for kids to be able to see that people can have an argument without it damaging the relationship. I wonder how I’m doing on that count. I’ll have to watch as I conflict manage with the kids to make sure I’m teaching them how to defend their point without damaging the relationship. I suspect that much of the time I’m more focused on “make the fighting stop asap.”
Like you, I find that truly angry words, particularly profane or obscene ones, have an almost physical effect on me. It is very much as you described, like the words are hitting me. Usually the sensation is in my gut, but sometimes on my back if I’m facing away from the speaker. There’s probably a scientific name for the phenomenon, but I don’t know it. I get a similar sensation when I see someone else get hurt. This is one of the major reasons I never found America’s Funniest Home Videos to be particularly funny. I spend too much time cringing.
Ooh, you’re right; there’s GOT to be a scientific name for that. I always thought it couldn’t be just me; I’m kind of glad to have someone else acknowledge the thing. 🙂
Seeing both sides
I don’t think seeing both sides is annoying, rather it is very valuable to have someone like this in an discussion – assuming the purpose of the discussion is to solve a problem of some sort.
In a lot of cases, both sides of the discussion are incompletely informed. If I find myself agreeing with both, I take that as a sign that the there is something more to the argument that both sides (and myself) are not seeing. We are discussing on the wrong level, or are not discussing the root issue, but symptoms. I then try to bring that to the attention of both parties and move the discussion to trying to identify the root issue, and then solve that. If that works (and it frequently does), everybody wins, because we have hopefully solved the real issue and not some symptoms and nobody looses face, because all parties were “right”.
Oftentimes, simply explaining the point of views to the respective opponents goes a long way toward taking the heat out of the debate and moving to a more constructive level. As I said, a lot of discussion arise because each party only sees a part of the issue. Discussions then can become frustrating when one is unable to understand the viewpoint of one’s opponent, or the opponent cannot properly explain it. If you have the ability to see and understand other people’s point of view, that’s a very valuable tool for solving a lot of conflicts. You are in the perfect position to be a moderator. Rather than arguing with everybody at once, you could take a neutral position and argue with no-one, but simply explain the respective view-points. You have a strength there. Use it.
Swear words
Funny you should mention swear words. I find that the best way to fail to insult or hurt me is using angry/swear words or obscene words. It only even remotely works when somebody close to me is saying that to me, and then it’s more the fact that I obviously disappointed/hurts them that causes me pain rather than the word itself. I simply find it difficult to take people swearing seriously, and I have found myself pretending to be offended by being sworn at so as not to offend the person swearing by seeming to ignore him. In my view, a person swearing reduces him/herself to a small child unable to articulate his/her emotions properly.
Regarding “making the fighting stop asap”: At the core of the fight might be a genuine conflict that needs to be resolved if the relationship is to remain strong – at least, that is the case when I choose to fight. Making the fighting stop might only suppress the expression of the conflict, not resolve it, and the tensions will remain. Long-term, I find suppressing conflicts to be much more damaging to a relationship than a good fight once in a while. At least that way, the conflict can be resolved and all parties involved can put that episode behind them once the dust has settled and the broken china is swept up. I much prefer my conflicts to be resolved openly. If they aren’t, I will harbor resentment or have the impression that the other party harbors resentment. And that will slowly but surely and irrevocably cut the strongest bond. I could not possibly maintain a relationship of any depth with somebody who is conflict averse. Even if they are perfectly happy with suppressing the conflict and rather not argue, I will not believe that. I will feel that the other person obviously was of a different opinion/wanted something else to happen/whatever, and I cannot bring myself to believe that (s)he will not harbor resentment about it. So even if there is no resentment involved on my part, I will believe that there is resentment on the other person’s part, and that will weigh on the relationship forever. For me, it is not the open conflict that damages the relationship, it is its absence.
Re: Swear words
You’re right. There is a world of difference between conflict suppression and conflict resolution. This is why I must frequently over rule my natural inclinations.
Re: Seeing both sides
I do use it, but it is exhausting and unfortunately no amount of moderation can make some people agree. The person who truly believes that the color green is evil, is never going to agree with the person who believes that green is the one true color. Frequently I will be able to see both why green is evil and why it is the one true color. If the issue is unimportant to me, then I’ll just dismiss it. But if the issue is important, I will spend days or weeks arguing both points in my head hoping to find some sort of resolution. That is when being able to see both sides becomes annoying.