How to Stay Civil When the World Feels Divided

At some point in the last few years, disagreement started to feel like betrayal. We stopped assuming good faith in others, and instead started looking for signs of moral failing—words used imperfectly, opinions held too loosely, loyalties not loudly proclaimed. We’ve become more suspicious, paranoid, and brittle. And in the process, many of us have found ourselves quietly losing friends, pulling away from family members, or walking on eggshells around people we used to talk to freely.

I hear it in therapy. The slow erosion of ease. The moment you realize you’re editing yourself mid-sentence, unsure of what will land and what might offend. The hesitation to send a text or share an article, not because it’s inflammatory, but because you don’t know if you’re allowed to think what you think anymore.

We are living in an era that prizes outrage over dialogue and certainty over humility. And while some outrage is justified, what often gets lost is the ability to tolerate discomfort—the kind that arises when someone you love sees the world very differently than you do.

I don’t think the answer is to abandon our convictions. But I also don’t think the answer is to abandon each other. Grounding techniques (deep breathing, going to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on your face or hands) can be incredibly helpful in high intensity interactions. Here are some wisdoms that may be helpful next time you feel uncertain of what to do, think, or say next in a tense situation:

1. Don’t confuse disagreement with danger.
It’s become fashionable to frame every ideological difference as a threat. But most of the time, it’s not. Most of the time, it’s someone trying to make sense of a complex world from their particular vantage point. Assuming bad intent right away shuts down the possibility of learning—and, frankly, the possibility of influencing anyone else.

2. Not everything needs to be said.
This idea doesn’t sit well in a culture that encourages us to “speak and live our truths” at all costs. I certainly lived by that mantra for a long time, particularly in politics and ideology. But restraint is a virtue. Silence isn’t always cowardice—it can also be respect. Or wisdom. If you know your words won’t be heard, or worse, will only inflame, you don’t have to say them just to prove a point. There’s strength in knowing when to step back. I know very few people who can practice this zen-like disposition regularly—but even trying it once, makes all the difference.

3. Real tolerance means living with people you disagree with.
It’s easy to talk about inclusion and empathy in theory, much harder to practice when someone challenges your core beliefs. But the essence of pluralism—whether in a democracy, a family, or a friendship—is the capacity to stay in relationship with those who see the world differently. That doesn’t mean agreeing. It means staying open.

4. Traditions have value, even if they evolve.
One of the reasons these divides feel so painful is because they often touch on things we were raised with—customs, holidays, ways of speaking or thinking about the world. If you're feeling the ground shift under your feet, you're not alone. But not every tradition needs to be thrown out to make room for progress. Sometimes we can hold both: the old and the new, the familiar and the unfamiliar.

5. Use your judgment, not your feed.
Social media rewards outrage. It rewards quick reactions, sharp insults, groupthink. But real relationships live offline. And real thinking takes time. If you're finding yourself increasingly reactive, ask yourself where you're spending your mental energy. Who are you listening to? Are you cultivating your own perspective, or just reposting someone else's?

The truth is, we need each other—more than we need to be right. And sometimes the most radical thing you can do in this moment is to stay kind, stay engaged, and stay in conversation. Not because you’re compromising your beliefs, but because you’re refusing to reduce someone you love to theirs.

You can love someone and disagree with them. You can value tradition and still adapt. You can speak your mind and still be gracious. These are not contradictions. They are, in fact, the hallmarks of maturity. And maybe the best path forward, as individuals and as a society, is to practice more of that.