A few weeks ago, I flew to Las Vegas to meet with the National Area Council Committee (kind of like the Board of Governors) of Boys & Girls Clubs of America. It was a group of a little more than 20 people, many of whom are responsible for overseeing hundreds of Clubs around the country.
But what I was brought there to speak about had very little to do with youth development (thankfully, as I would have had almost nothing of value to offer). Instead, the topic was how to have meaningful conversations with individuals with whom you vehemently disagree.
The session combined political psychology with strategic communication. The former was necessary because it’s important to first understand why both groups disagree before moving into how to communicate in ways that make meaningful conversation possible.
For instance, I discussed some of the “unspoken differences” that contribute to the political divide; things that both sides silently disagree about - often without even realizing it - but rarely explicitly address. One example concerns different views on human nature. One group tends to see human nature as fixed and inherently flawed, with some people just being naturally “good” and others being naturally “bad”; the other tends to see human nature as mostly good and, importantly, also “improvable,” meaning peoples’ level of “goodness” can be changed through things like social interventions. Due to this disconnect (and similar others), they can each look at the same issue (e.g., social reform policies) and come to drastically different conclusions about whether they’re smart and worthwhile or naively idealistic and a waste of resources.
However, in spite of these differences, you can have fruitful conversations. But it starts with a bit of a bitter understanding: you’re unlikely to ever change a strong partisan’s mind with “good arguments.”
One of the best examples of this comes from 2008.
At this time, California had a ballot proposition that would introduce a formal constitutional amendment to ban same sex marriage. It became known as “Prop 8.” In spite of many pundits believing Prop 8 would not pass in a state widely seen as a liberal sanctuary, the ballot measure did indeed succeed with 52.24% of the almost 14 million who came out to vote supporting the proposition.
Individuals like Dave Fleischer were shocked by the result. Fleischer, the founder and former director of the Los Angeles LGBT Center’s Leadership LAB, was dismayed to see how many of his fellow Californians came out to support a ballot measure that prevented his homosexual friends and colleagues from being able to marry. And he was determined to find out why.
So he and his team went door-to-door, asking people why they had voted for the ban. And once they had explained their reasons, Fleischer and his colleagues would try to explain to them all the other reasons why their opinion was ill-informed, misinformed, or just simply incorrect. And through these interactions, he quickly came to an important realization: people who disagreed with same-sex marriage were highly unlikely to change their view through the presentation of counterarguments.
“There is no superior argument, no piece of information that we can offer, that is going to change their mind,” Dave said, reflecting on his experience.
And so he and his team sought to develop a more effective technique. And through extensive real-world trial-and-error, they devised what today is known as “deep canvassing.”
As opposed to traditional canvassing, wherein volunteers go door-to-door asking people if they’re coming out to vote (and who/what they’ll be voting for) before trying to convince them to vote for their preferred candidates and issues via the recitation of facts, figures, and other rehearsed talking points, deep canvassing involves a much more involved, personal approach.
For the sake of space, I won’t walk us through every step in detail, but here are some of the key components:
It begins with establishing rapport by assuring the individual that you’re not there to shame or argue with them. This is critically important as, once someone feels as though their beliefs are being “threatened” or “attacked,” their proverbial shields go up and their focus is not on listening but rather defending.
Next, you ask them how strongly (e.g., on a scale from 1-10) they feel about an issue.
Then, with their permission, you share some of your own stories - experiences that informed your own view - on the subject. There are two keys here:
Stories benefit from a phenomenon known as “narrative transportation.” Whereas when we hear arguments we tend to think about counterarguments, when we hear stories we tend to “simulate” and “empathize”; we imagine what someone was going through. In this way, stories can “bypass” many defenses that prevent arguments from getting through to someone.
Telling a personal story signals to your conversation partner that you’re willing to be open and honest during this conversation. Instead of keeping your guard up and relying on tried-and-true partisan talking points, you want to go deeper. And by being a bit vulnerable, you open the door for them to be vulnerable, as well.
After that, you ask them again how strongly they feel about an issue. It their rating has changed, ask them why.
And one of the final components is to ask them if they’ve ever experienced what the target of the issue or policy you’re discussing have experienced. For instance, with the issue of same-sex marriage, Fleischer and his colleagues might have asked someone who disagreed with granting homosexuals the right to marry if they’ve ever felt discriminated against because of who they are. The goal is to get them sharing their own story, and re-experiencing how that felt.
As Fleischer notes, “The only way they’re going to change their mind is by changing their own mind – by talking themselves through their own thinking, by processing things they’ve never thought about before; things from their own life that are going to help them see things differently.” Ultimately, the goal of deep canvassing is to “get them to think about their own thinking.” The idea being that many people hold strong political beliefs that they have merely inherited from sources like their parents, family, or community; things they may have not truly chosen, and thus may have never really sat down and interrogated. They feel strongly about them, but when you can get past the canned partisan responses, many start to see that their values and experiences might not support their views.
To give you an idea of just how powerful deep canvassing (when done properly) can be, consider this: academic research on the technique found that, on issues as polarizing as transgender bathroom use, deep canvassing was able to significantly change one in ten people’s minds. Stated differently, a full 10% of people who were opposed to transgender bathroom rights, after being exposed to a deep canvassing approach, went on to change their attitudes. And the change tended to stick.
…after just one conversation.
Regardless of where you stand politically, that’s an incredible feat.
Practices like deep canvassing involve fundamentally reorienting yourself to how you approach a conversation. Instead of going in with a bunch of arguments you hope will change someone’s mind, the goal instead becomes, in essence, three-fold:
How do I get them to trust me when I say that I am not there to judge, shame, or argue with them; that I genuinely just want to understand their reasoning?
What stories can I tell that capture personal experiences with the topic; that get them to “feel” how another might feel?
How can I encourage them to reflect on their own experiences that might run counter to their views; times when they felt similarly to the individuals they might be fighting against?
The most critical aspect of deep canvassing (and, honestly, most approaches that stand a strong chance of eliciting attitude change) is that your conversation partner should never feel that you are actively trying to change their mind. And this can be hard, because we’re often discussing issues about which we’re very passionate. But you have to understand that the moment someone feels you’re trying to “push them” to think a certain way, they’re likely to “push back.”
In this way, you have to become comfortable with the idea that you are unlikely to directly change anyone’s mind (at least on things like highly-polarized socio-political issues). Instead, your best bet is to provide them with a safe space to reflect on their own thinking and beliefs; to consider whether or not their views really align with their experiences. You’re creating an opportunity for them to change their own mind.