Whatever happened to objecting in good faith?

In our never-ending rush to judgment — in our insatiable desire to sort the world into “good” and “bad” — we’ve ceased to ask a simple but important question: Why? There’s nothing in the Constitution that mandates that people be curious about the sources of other peoples’ opinions. And perhaps there’s no turning back from American public discourse devolving into shallow Twitter debates. But on issues of major public policy, it might be worth understanding both sides before reflexively vilifying someone.

Never has that been more clear than in the case of Sen. Joe Manchin (D-W.Va.), the far left’s new public enemy No. 1. Manchin, of course, is the one senator publicly standing in the way of the Democrats-only climate change and social spending bill viewed as the top item on President Biden’s agenda. Perhaps, rather than resorting immediately to ad hominem attacks, it would be worth asking why he has taken that position. Are you sure his position has been taken in bad faith?

On ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday, Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) blithely asserted that “Manchin represents the very wealthiest people in this country, not working families in West Virginia or America.” But could there possibly be any other reason Manchin decided not to back the bill? In politics today, voters are perpetually saying they want their elected representatives to think for themselves — to look at the facts, consider the options, and then make informed, independent judgments. Perhaps, before casting the nastiest aspersions on Manchin, critics should look at what he’s done and simply ask: Why?

Is it possible that elements of the reconciliation bill, well-intentioned as they are, hold the potential to cut against efforts to tame inflation? Perhaps having the government pour hundreds of billions into an over-heated economy might work at cross-purposes with efforts to prevent prices from going up? Could you maybe conjecture that raising taxes on business at the same time that they’re dealing with rising costs — both for the goods they purchase and for the labor they hire — could undermine efforts to ensure an economic “soft landing” rather than a descent into deep recession?

To be frank, you don’t even have to answer yes to any of those questions to see my point. Perhaps, in the end, you conclude, as many other Democrats have done, that the risk of continued or worsened inflation is worth what the nation would get out of the investments Democrats want to make through their bill. Fair enough. As they say, “your miles may vary.”

But is it also possible that someone else would come to a different conclusion in good faith? Is it possible that, no matter any individual’s politics, the real issue when crafting policy isn’t always “good” vs. “bad”? Perhaps sometimes the challenge is balancing priority A against priority B — and you can be supportive of addressing priorities but weigh them differently than someone who also has every intention of doing what is right for the country.

That is, at root, what’s wrong with Washington today. It’s not, as ideologues tend to argue, that the other side has designs on destroying the country, or is hell-bent on fascism, or socialism, or whatever else. It’s that people with different views on big issues are so eager to castigate the other side as crazy or unAmerican, or worse, that they can’t even broach a discussion about how to move the country forward together.

The shame is that Manchin is taking flak for refusing to be a rubber stamp. Agree or disagree with him, he shouldn’t be compelled to take votes he thinks point his state or the nation in the wrong direction. The American system demands that people work through their differences. If one party can’t succeed by steamrolling the other, perhaps the original sin isn’t one senator voicing an objection, but the intention to steamroll opposition voices in the first place.

Ryan Clancy is chief strategist at No Labels, a national organization working to revive bipartisanship.