There’s a lot of talk about the extreme polarization of public, and specifically, political discourse as we ramp up into the final, could-not-be-over-soon-enough months of the US presidential race. I’m always skeptical when there are claims that we are more polarized than ever, but I have certainly noticed a ramp-up in ideological spewing on social networks that has even lifelong-activist me wondering, “Can’t we all just get along?”

As it turns out… no. Entrepreneur Tara Hunt reminded us on Facebook earlier today of the sociological phenomenon called “confirmation bias.” Applicable to both online and offline conversations, it works like this: If I see evidence that supports what I already believe, I will support that evidence. If the evidence is neutral, I will interpret it in a way that supports what I believe. And, if the evidence completely contradicts what I believe, I will discount the evidence, dig my heels in deeper and keep believing what I want.
“The facts will not set you free” is the bottom line.
On social networks, people are complaining about how polarized the political discussion has become, and are wondering if hypotheses like the ones I support saying that sharing online inspires empathy are completely wrong. This is where things get a little tricky.First, political rhetoric in general has indeed become more polar between Democrats and Republicans in recent years. It’s not just the Internet playing a role; all media have. However, you only have to look back to the 1800s or so to see just how little has really change about the mud-slinging nature of the dialog. The change is in how many people see it, not the content. We have a false notion of a mythic public square in which delicate, thoughtful, high-minded dialog took place. (I keep imagining this place complete with white-gloved slapping.) I can’t find evidence that this was ever the common way for the work politics to hash itself out. But we hold that myth dear when we gasp and point fingers at political foes getting their hands (and mouths) dirty in the process.
Second, the kind of sharing that I’m seeing pass through my social network streams is not the kind of sharing that I’m thinking of when I talk about empathy online. The sharing that I see, especially the kind found in humorous political memes, is much more related to a broadcast-style of communication than one that centers on developing or deepening relationships. We are the pamphleteers of the digital age when we post raucous rants and deliberate screeds that espouse our beliefs and values. These are the bits that relate to confirmation bias the most: they reinforce our values, no matter what their actual content.The kind of sharing that generates empathy, and that can actually inspire change, is when we share our stories with one another. When we seek out connection through our experiences, we are much more likely to be open to the potential that things might not be as we have seen them, or are more complicated than we’ve been led to believe. This can work in any format; I’m thinking about listening to the speeches in the New York State Senate when it passed marriage equality rights, and how many social conservatives said that they were swayed to vote in favor by the personal stories that had been shared with them. Online, we can point to phenomena like Caine’s Arcade, where for a few minutes, we all remembered what it was like to be a lonely kid dreaming about something bigger.

Those shift points are not about being scolded, guilted or berated into thinking differently about how the world operates. The magic that happens when we share stories with one another comes from our human wiring to empathize with one another. To walk in each others’ shoes and have our capacity for understanding broadened just a little bit. The unfortunate nature of political systems don’t necessarily promote authentic, empathetic sharing, but we can recognize it and celebrate it when we see it.