Can Civility Survive? Lessons from Legislators on the Firestorms of Politics

As former Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords rose to the stage at the National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) Legislative Summit this year, the theme for the next few days was immediately apparent. The focus it took for her to walk to the podium was in her facial expression as her torso swung each leg. Her travel to center stage created a natural pause for reflection, simultaneously comfortable and uncomfortable. Her words were not only a product of thoughtfulness but also efforts to coordinate the mechanics of breath with the movement of lips, tongue, and palate — all the result of the brain damage she suffered as a victim of an assassination attempt.

The staccato and brevity of her comments were nearly poetic: “Restore civility and dialogue in politics.”

The causes for that plea were well understood in the room, including the recent assassination of Minnesota lawmakers and their families, assassination attempts on President Trump last summer, the social media firestorms all had withstood and a few in the room had even fueled, and certainly Gifford’s own survival story. In Gifford’s words, in a tribute to slain Minnesota Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman, and in subsequent opening sessions, I learned a few things about depolarization and de-escalating public frenzy of anger.

1. Respect people over power. In the words of clergyman William Sloan Coffin, “The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. The cause of violence is not ignorance. It is self-interest. Only reverence can restrain violence.” In speaking of Hortman (D), her political counterweight and current House Speaker Lisa Demuth (R) gave the practical realities of what it meant to preserve humanity with a colleague who supported diametrically different policies. They met regularly, sometimes weekly, and developed a relationship of trust and respect. “She treated me like a partner,” Demuth said. When wading through the realities of federal and state legislation and funding decisions, it can take conscious effort, bolstered with ongoing relationship, to not assume the worst intent of everyone on the winning side.        
2. Find ways to galvanize the middle. Whether it is encouraging voter participation at civic events or promoting efforts like Braver Angels’ local events and podcasts or virtual conversations like Common Ground – United We Stand and The Mingle Project, there are growing opportunities to urge those in the middle of the political spectrum to engage with rather than abandon politics. There are even AI models shown to help people find common ground on complex social and political issues.  
3. Choose how we show up. All of us have been harmed by politics and policies, some much more than others. While those experiences inevitably shape our outlook, we determine whether we will respond by burning or building. Each of us has the intrinsic liberty to control our internal responses to external fires. We often have to first move through our emotions to get to a place of progress. Those who are easily angered are also easily manipulated.
4. Likewise, we can choose not to fan the flames in others. As noted by Wisconsin House Speaker Vos, words sometimes speak louder than actions. Opting to call fellow humans “deplorables” or “illegals” is de-humanizing and cuts off conversation. We can tell the truth in public without stirring outrage.
5. Invite different opinions and practice civil disagreement to sharpen thinking. Whether it is subscribing to news sources on all sides of the political spectrum or taking a member of the opposing party to coffee on a regular basis, practicing curiosity and humility sparks good policy. Milbank’s leadership programs welcome civil debate, validate this over and over again.

These messages clearly resonated with NCSL’s legislator attendees. Nearly all were fearful for their safety, with many repeating, “I didn’t sign up for this.” Most had their own stories of cooperation and conflict to add, sharing when the commitment to civil discourse in and outside of their own state house has thrived and where it has broken down.

While it was encouraging to hear support for the messages of civility, practicing it is easier said than done. In a subsequent session, the legislator panelists got a little heated in discussion of how to manage federal health care cuts. Yet they quickly modeled how to check emotions and enter back into dialogue. In offstage conversations, it was noted that some speakers did not always “walk the talk” they gave onstage – but at least there was talk onstage. Some legislators noted that they had great relationships “behind the scenes,” and acknowledged that even with a supermajority, minority members could significantly influence policy in committee, often through relationship.

Some legislators remarked that they missed the days of no cameras in the legislative chamber galleries, when conversations were more about debating ideas than capturing sound bites. There is often now an understanding that any public forum is a time for “rallying the base,” even if comments are more extreme than an individual legislator’s viewpoint. These realities left me with questions about authenticity and transparency in government. Getting things on record in session is necessary for many reasons, but could these moments also be a chance to galvanize the middle?

As I got off the plane back in Nashville, it seemed both ironic and fitting that a musician was mid-verse in a Johnny Cash classic, singing, “I walked into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down and the flames went higher.” Indeed, outside of this conference on bipartisanship, state legislatures were having hot redistricting debates, and within days, shots were fired at public health officials at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

It takes understanding and courage to live one’s values when the cameras are both on and off. Legislators need the skills and presence to win an election, as well as the skills to get good policy passed. We can choose in public and private conversations whether to motivate with fear or with good ideas and reasoned debate. Everyday choices in the context of political wildfires will either fan the flames or fight the fire.