"I’ve learned that often the issue isn’t really the issue – or the root cause of the anger. When arguments devolve, it’s usually due to a lack of respect, and the contempt and disdain that one or both people harbour toward the other. There's always a backstory."​​

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“Is this a hill you’re willing to die on?” said the voice in my head. 

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“Yes.” 

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“No.” 

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“Maybe….” I replied to myself – ears bright red, skin burning.  I knew I was right. Winning the argument meant everything to me in that moment.

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The setting was a post-holiday dinner, December 1990-something.  My young self was seated across the table from a dogmatic and contemptuous relative, and we were in the middle of a heated and bitter debate.  About what, you ask? Believe it or not, the lowest temperature at which it can snow and whether there has ever been a blizzard when the temperature dropped below -25 Celsius. Pre-smart phone and google, obviously. 

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All these years later, reflecting on the many contentious conversations I’ve had during the holidays, it is humbling to realize that often the bitterest arguments were about trivial and insignificant issues (although I’ve had my fair share of heated exchanges about abortion, religion and politics). I’ve learned that often the issue isn’t really the issue, or the root cause of the anger. When arguments devolve, it’s usually due to a lack of respect, and the contempt and disdain that one or both people harbour toward the other.  There’s always a backstory.   

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As we head into another holiday season, the world is (unsurprisingly) still on fire. Set against the backdrop of geopolitics and the drama that exists in every family, it is predictable that we dread some of the upcoming social conversations: confronting your great uncle’s deeply held but unexamined xenophobia is probably not on the top of your list of fun conversations to have over the holidays. 

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There’s no doubt that navigating topics from the petty to the political can be both daunting and painful – especially when we realize that someone we truly care about holds an opposing viewpoint to one of our deeply held beliefs. The ideas and the issues about which we care can become inextricably linked with our identities and our self esteem, and that is part of what makes kitchen table arguments both so emotion-fueled and so potentially damaging to our relationships when they go awry. 

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What I’ve learned from ‘the great debate of 1990-something’ and the subsequent conversations since is to think about one word – respect.  Separate respect for the person (as a human being with feelings and basic human rights) from respect for their ideas. I relish a good debate with a worthy adversary over a philosophical idea, or a social issue – but only when we keep it about ideas and things don’t get personal. I agree completely with Malcom Gladwell in a recent podcast interview where he suggests, “keeping your values tight and your ideas loose”.  Ideas can, and should, be open for healthy debate and discussion. Core values, on the other hand, are fundamental to personal integrity.  It is completely possible (and often enjoyable) to have a discussion with someone whose ideas are radically different from our own. But if you find yourself across the bar or a table from a dogmatic and arrogant adversary, my suggestion is to raise an eyebrow and change the subject. In the words of George Bernard Shaw,  “Never wrestle with a pig because you'll both get dirty, and the pig likes it."

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These days, before I sit down to a holiday dinner or get together with friends and family, I remind myself to remember the ‘why’.  Why am I here? What am I fundamentally trying to achieve? Mostly, it’s about having interesting and meaningful conversations with other human beings around a table. It’s about human connection: sharing a meal, sharing stories. I recognize that there are a finite number of holiday dinners left with the people I care about, and I don’t know what that number is.  I think about what really matters and  recognize that there are few, if any, ideological hills on which I’m willing to die during a holiday celebration. ​​​​​​​