Michelle Nijhuis and Callie Hanson
If you're like many Americans these days, you're not just at odds with your political opponents. You don't trust them, you don't like them, or you even fear them. This "affective polarization," as social scientists call it, has been growing in the United States since the 1980s and is notoriously difficult to undo.
But it can be treated. We have seen that it is possible.
In the rural West, where we work as journalists, few issues are more polarizing than the return of wolves. Over the past three decades, the number of wolves in the United States has grown from fewer than 300 to nearly 8,000, thanks to repopulation in Yellowstone National Park and elsewhere, protective laws and the wolves' own ability to adapt.
For some, the expanding populations of gray wolves in the West and Midwest, along with the resurgence of red wolves in the Southeast, represent a remarkable conservation victory. For others, wolves pose a threat to livestock, farmers’ livelihoods, and the way of life on the land. With so much at stake, debates about wolf management are fierce and deep, sometimes even violent. Tensions have spread even to the Northeast, where wolves are rare or nonexistent but may repopulate over time.
When we were invited to participate in an event called Wolf Talk, we were intrigued but skeptical. A conversation about wolves? A heated debate seemed more likely.
The conversation began by deliberately avoiding the main topic. The person leading the conversation, Francine Madden, asked the 25 participants who gathered in Tucson last month to initially share only their first names. We spent almost half a day in a semi-anonymous relationship, exchanging awkward greetings over meals and while we picked fresh produce from a local farm that donated its food to people in need.
With relationships forged in a fragile way, we finally discovered our full identities. Among us were scientists, ranchers, landowners, government officials, conservationists, animal rights activists, hunters, and wildlife agency leaders. There was also an ethicist in the group, whose role was to represent the moral perspective of wolves.
We learned that many of us were tired and disillusioned after years of harassment—sometimes outright threats—from our opponents, wolf lovers, or both. Some had spent decades worrying about their livestock being killed by wolves; others had fought to protect wolves from human hunting. And this made our doubts about the process deep, since previous attempts at reconciliation had often ended in empty words or even greater disagreements.
However, by first discovering what united us before addressing what divided us, we were able to keep affective polarization in check. This freed us to express our opinions without fear of personal attacks – and to listen attentively to other perspectives.
Over the next few days, we discussed our personal experiences with wolves and the politics surrounding them. Big differences emerged, but so did common ground. (Students report that, although Americans are emotionally polarized and increasingly so, we are less politically divided than we think: we hate our opponent, but we are not as opposed to him as we think.)
Madden, who has helped defuse difficult disputes over nature conservation around the world, stressed that the goal of such a conversation is neither to eliminate conflict nor to force compromise. The goal is to change the nature of the conflict, transforming it from an intractable stalemate into a joint effort for lasting solutions.
Although such a transformation could not happen during our few days in Tucson, we saw the potential. During breaks from formal discussions, participants often sought to speak with those with whom they had the most disagreements, indicating a desire to continue the dialogue. On the final evening, two young ranchers and the ethicist sat under the stars, immersed in a fierce but friendly debate about the inherent value of wolves. They did not reach a conclusion, but they agreed to continue the conversation, and that was a victory in itself.
Since the Tucson meeting, participants have been immersed in familiar controversies and new issues — including the possibility of federal funding cuts to programs that support wildlife and rural communities. Meanwhile, Colorado Parks and Wildlife officials have released 15 gray wolves into the Southern Rockies as part of a repopulation effort that was narrowly approved by state voters in 2020.
Wolves are now finding a way to survive in a divided state and a divided nation. Like the people around them, they are smart and adaptable, and their chances of survival are quite good. But their prospects – and ours – would be much better if we could create common ground.
Originally published on bota.al
