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Dear Carolyn: Last weekend, I was at a dinner party attended by 10 people. When the conversation turned to politics, one of the guests was insistent that she had heard enough that day. We are all nice people and didn’t want to cause her discomfort, so we censored ourselves. But afterward, I became resentful, thinking she didn’t have the right to dictate the subject of conversation.
I suppose there are some topics one might be justified in curtailing: gossip, overt sexual or gruesome things. But we are all politically active people, and I would have liked to have heard what others had to say. What could I have said to her that wasn’t rude to explain that her dictate was hurtful to me? Should I take her aside someday to tell her how the incident affected me, or wait until it happens again? Then what should I say?
— R.
R.: Under normal circumstances, I might agree with you that it’s presumptuous of one person to shut down an entire topic for the other nine people. (I’d be even more amenable to the idea if it were frustrating to stop vs. “hurtful” to “censor.”)
But circumstances are so abnormal that this is the paragraph where I’d explain how abnormal they are, and I’m confident I can skip it. (And give that dinner guest a medal. And a hug.)
What you do about her now is: nothing. Show some mercy, override the impulse to correct her, and eat your one disappointment.
What you could have done in the moment, and what you can do if someone shuts you down with any frequency, is start with sympathy for the overwhelmed, bottom bun: “I understand hitting a saturation point” or similar. Next, the meat of your counterpoint: “But we are all politically engaged — and nice people, too! So call me an idealist, but I think talking with this group might help.” Next, more sympathy, top bun: “But I hear you and won’t press it.”
Use your own words, of course — but no matter how you phrase it, I am scripting you in all versions not to push it/force it/make a big stink about it/hijack the conversation over someone else’s objections.
For one thing, the unwritten rule not to talk politics at social events is there for truly noble reasons. Is “delubricating” a word? Political talk is socially delubricating. It’s a lye bath. So if your group isn’t 100 percent game for the topic, then back off and let people enjoy one another, for the love of cheeses.
And, too, there’s the separate issue of someone emotionally crying for help at the table. Let’s say the topic isn’t a source of Orwellian reflux like current politics, but instead something more neutral, like middle management. One person says, “I have heard enough today, please no workflow talk” — when, alas, you arrived at the party wanting to strategize. Are you really going to die on that hill and insist your need to circle back must prevail? Or are you going to show a peer some compassion?
This was a dinner party, not a floor speech. The concept of censorship was never in play.
Back to some earlier phrasing: If silencing happens with any frequency, then, yes, advocate non-toxically for your topic of choice. Talk privately, even, to a friend who makes a habit of shutting things down.
But one-time party bans on a source of mass exhaustion? Take that win for the team.
Link
I suppose there are some topics one might be justified in curtailing: gossip, overt sexual or gruesome things. But we are all politically active people, and I would have liked to have heard what others had to say. What could I have said to her that wasn’t rude to explain that her dictate was hurtful to me? Should I take her aside someday to tell her how the incident affected me, or wait until it happens again? Then what should I say?
— R.
R.: Under normal circumstances, I might agree with you that it’s presumptuous of one person to shut down an entire topic for the other nine people. (I’d be even more amenable to the idea if it were frustrating to stop vs. “hurtful” to “censor.”)
But circumstances are so abnormal that this is the paragraph where I’d explain how abnormal they are, and I’m confident I can skip it. (And give that dinner guest a medal. And a hug.)
What you do about her now is: nothing. Show some mercy, override the impulse to correct her, and eat your one disappointment.
What you could have done in the moment, and what you can do if someone shuts you down with any frequency, is start with sympathy for the overwhelmed, bottom bun: “I understand hitting a saturation point” or similar. Next, the meat of your counterpoint: “But we are all politically engaged — and nice people, too! So call me an idealist, but I think talking with this group might help.” Next, more sympathy, top bun: “But I hear you and won’t press it.”
Use your own words, of course — but no matter how you phrase it, I am scripting you in all versions not to push it/force it/make a big stink about it/hijack the conversation over someone else’s objections.
For one thing, the unwritten rule not to talk politics at social events is there for truly noble reasons. Is “delubricating” a word? Political talk is socially delubricating. It’s a lye bath. So if your group isn’t 100 percent game for the topic, then back off and let people enjoy one another, for the love of cheeses.
And, too, there’s the separate issue of someone emotionally crying for help at the table. Let’s say the topic isn’t a source of Orwellian reflux like current politics, but instead something more neutral, like middle management. One person says, “I have heard enough today, please no workflow talk” — when, alas, you arrived at the party wanting to strategize. Are you really going to die on that hill and insist your need to circle back must prevail? Or are you going to show a peer some compassion?
This was a dinner party, not a floor speech. The concept of censorship was never in play.
Back to some earlier phrasing: If silencing happens with any frequency, then, yes, advocate non-toxically for your topic of choice. Talk privately, even, to a friend who makes a habit of shutting things down.
But one-time party bans on a source of mass exhaustion? Take that win for the team.
Link
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Or Woez, LW was prevented from going over stressful issues and explaining how they are actually great and everything is wonderful!
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We had the rule of no politics, aggressive religion, or sports during Thanksgiving meal/dinner parties.
That rule is what keeps my family from stabbing each other with the carving fork, and I cannot recommend it enough.
(Aggressive religion meaning anything above "oh yes, I did find a new place of worship after the building fell apart when the elephant crashed into it/our priest did eat twelve pounds of crawfish, you heard correctly/did you hear that the local Satanic Temple had a skyclad ritual in the middle of town?" sort of thing, very surface level)
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I'd recommend another dinner party, sans guest-who-doesn't-want-to-talk-politics, which can be labelled 'politics dinner' and therefore anyone who wishes to opt out is allowed to do so. If they really want to talk politics like that.
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Also, "we are all politically active" doesn't mean that they agree on every current, urgent issue. Sometimes "let's talk about something else" means the person doesn't want a nine-against-one argument. Sometimes she's carefully not asking her friends what they think about a specific issue, and really doesn't want to deal with that as dinner-party conversation.
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And sometimes she has a far bigger dog in this show than you can even imagine: your dystopian thought experiment is her wearily lived everyday reality, and she’s fed up with well-intentioned Politically Enlightened! people reducing her to her suffering.
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I am in a better place now but when one starts dreading getting together with friends because of the political talk ....