Elon Musk often treats his political opponents with contempt. He uses the social media site he owns to call people morons and idiots, say they have a “mind virus,” and claim to know with certainty other people’s malicious intent. He treats people with contempt even outside political contexts (see the “pedo guy” thing.)
Musk’s contemptuous behavior amplifies the toxicity of our divides. Not only that, it’s self-defeating, as it strengthens and inflames his more extreme and passionate adversaries (just as his opponents’ contempt grants him more power).
Criticisms of Musk (and others like him) are often incorrectly reduced to criticisms of their beliefs. But this criticism of Musk isn’t about his beliefs, but rather about how he handles disagreement and conflict. It’s not about the polarization of his beliefs, but about his affective polarization — his disdain for the “other side.”
Imagine a version of Elon Musk who believes mostly the same things, but who can see his opponents’ humanity and the better motivations for their beliefs, even as he also thinks they’re misguided. That version of Musk could still work for what he believed in, but could do so without amplifying antagonism and toxicity.
I actually share some of Musk’s views. I think some far-left ideas are harmful and divisive, and I think Democrats too often dismiss Republicans’ rational concerns on immigration and other issues. But no matter my political beliefs, I believe that how we engage is crucially important.
Americans will always have passionate disagreements. Our mode of engagement is the thing we are able to control. When we act in conflict-amplifying ways, we strengthen the most divisive and extreme people and ideas; we help build a toxic, chaotic and unstable society — where everyone loses.
I hve focused on Musk here, but I could also talk about polarizing figures on the left. For example, Keith Olbermann has long spoken in contemptuous and conflict-amplifying ways about his political opponents — ways that he himself would find upsetting if he heard such things from Republicans.
One way to understand how our political toxicity builds is to imagine Olbermann and Musk in a room shouting at each other, each one’s contempt and anger feeding off that of the other, their beliefs growing more extreme and non-negotiable. Toxic conflict is a feedback cycle — a hurricane system driven by human emotions.
The truth is that humans are simply bad at understanding conflict dynamics. We aren’t good at talking about what makes someone a conflict-amplifier and seeing such traits as separate from the realm of beliefs. This is why we often get caught in conflict spirals. Our instincts on how to act when in conflict can be unhelpful and make matters worse.
When we mix up and conflate people’s beliefs with their level of animosity, we can’t make persuasive criticisms of their unhealthy, harmful ways of engaging. Even our most well-meaning and constructive critiques will often be mistaken for criticisms of beliefs.
An important place to criticize such behaviors is on one’s own side political side, because criticisms of the “other side” are mostly ignored and distrusted by them. Our own political group is the main place we can actually work on reducing toxic approaches.
Also, criticizing one’s “in-group” can reduce the animosity of the “other side” in counterintuitive ways. A 2014 study found that people who observed the “other side” debating and disagreeing lowered their anger. Our instincts make us feel that criticizing our group helps our opponents, when it can actually be what helps us lower conflict and achieve compromise.
If we are to reduce conflict, we need more people willing to push back on bad and divisive ideas and behaviors in their own political group. We need more people willing to say things like, “I agree with your stance, but you’re speaking in inaccurate and insulting ways that amplify our divides.” A better understanding of conflict dynamics would help people do that.
Belief and the manner in which we engage are separate dimensions. But in the real world, the world of actual people, these things are closely connected. Undue hate and fear shift people’s beliefs, making those beliefs more extreme and unreasonable. For example, Olbermann’s extreme contempt can lead to him believe that the Supreme Court should be disbanded. Similarly, high animosity and fear leads to more distrust in elections.
If we want to reduce toxic and contemptuous politics, we need to think about the behaviors that make Elon Musk, and many others in our polarized society, conflict amplifiers. We need to see our divides as not just about political and cultural disagreements, but also about a conflict between those who want more animosity and those who want less.
We need more people to think about the polarizing behaviors in their own political group and ask themselves: Are these approaches creating a more toxic, chaotic and unstable future? Would I support these approaches if my political opponents did them? Do I really want to support people who act in these ways? Are these approaches actually amplifying extremism? Would pursuing my political goals in less polarizing, less angering ways actually help me achieve my goals?
Zachary Elwood is the author of “Defusing American Anger” and hosts the psychology podcast People Who Read People.