I have been reading a book about the history of conversation on and off for the past few weeks. I may as well tell you that I always have a stack of books on my night stand. The height of that stack can sometimes be terrifying. I pick and choose from among the books each night. I think college ruined me reading non-fiction books cover-to-cover. I don’t have to now, and so I usually don’t. I get them all read, but go back and forth between them. Anyway, I have found the history of conversation to be one of the most compelling books I have read in a long time. In essence, the author argues that the art of conversation is a complex and exacting one. One of the most compelling ideas from the book is that one enters into a conversation with no preconceived conclusions. It is getting to the conclusion that provides the entertainment. Conversation is all about the importance of listening.

To talk with someone, to try to persuade that person of the correctness of your opinions, is debate not conversation. I have for a long time now thought that our country is chock-a-block full of people ready to debate. People will debate anything, but when it comes to conversing, I think we Americans have lost our way, sadly. We are a nation of chatterers, not a nation of listeners. Furthermore, because conversation has been replaced by debate, this has resulted in the polarization of our society. Either you’re with me, or you’re against me. There is no in between where we converse about the ideas behind our differences.

We took our kids to a rally against the War in Iraq a few weeks ago. I live in a college town, a bubble of liberalism in a solidly Midwestern state. As a result, I met friends and acquaintances at the rally, the usual suspects who show up at such events. Part of the rally was a march to the local Federal Building, where the names of all of the soldiers killed in the war were being displayed. We walked and chatted with friends about everything except politics. We caught up on gossip and enjoyed a beautiful sunny day. While walking down Main Street, a young man on the sidewalk looked on in disgust. Then, he started screaming: “Go Bush. Go Bush. Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Go home.” My eldest son looked on in shock. Wasn’t everyone against war?

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