How respect for civil discourse led to respect for marriage equality

Recently, the University of Delaware Joseph R. Biden, Jr. School of Public Policy and Administration honored Sens. Susan Collins (R-Maine) and Tammy Baldwin (D-Wis.) with the Biden School Civility in Public Service Award. The award, sponsored by the Biden School’s Stavros Niarchos Foundation (SNF) Ithaca Initiative, recognized the senators for their leadership around the passage of the Respect for Marriage Act, which codified legal protections for same-sex marriage.

This June, as we celebrate Pride Month, it’s worth recognizing this historic law not just for the dignity and respect for LGBTQ+ people it enshrined, but also for its somewhat undersung significance as a shining example of democratic civil discourse in action. 

In her remarks at the award ceremony, Baldwin reflected on the law’s passage by emphasizing the importance of genuinely listening to those whose views differ from your own in order to come together over consensus values. In an era of spiraling partisan polarization, the bipartisan support for the Respect for Marriage Act stands out as a rare instance of real consensus-building — made all the more notable by the formidable political opposition to the cause that existed just 10 years ago.

So what led to this rapid political sea change?

As an academic focused on civil discourse and public engagement, I’ve long wondered what it was that set this issue apart from so many others. While decades of struggle on the part of community activists should not be discounted, it’s undeniable that legendary activist Harvey Milk’s famous appeal to “come out to your neighbors, to your fellow workers, to the people who work where you eat and shop” played a critical role. Cracking open the closet door meant engaging with millions of people who otherwise might never have thought critically about gay rights, kick-starting the transformation that would eventually lead to the country’s first openly gay senator leading the charge to make marriage equality the law of the land.

Collins noted when accepting her award that the act of “breaking bread” with one’s ostensible opponents enables you to genuinely hear them — a lesson that might seem obvious, but one that bears repeating considering how terrible most of us are at really listening to those with whom we disagree.

The phrase reminds me of my past work with students, where I would teach a course that focused on thinking about the role of citizens in a democracy. One of my favorite assignments was something I called the Kansas Kitchen Table. In short, I had students gather in small groups with friends and neighbors and discuss what it means to be a citizen over a potluck meal. They quickly realized that it’s a lot harder to dismiss someone with a different opinion when they were there, in front of them, passing them the mashed potatoes.

People tend to not so much hear what’s being spoken but rather wait for their chance to speak. As Lisbeth Lipari wrote in “Listening, Thinking, Being: Toward an Ethics of Attunement”: “We either listen to our adversary’s arguments so we can defeat them, or we listen in order to ‘master’ some material, facts, or theories.” To really listen means to view dialogue not as a battle but as an opportunity to learn, especially from people offering an alternative solution to what seems so clearly simple or “right” to you. When that person challenging your worldview is someone you love being vulnerable and revealing something deeply personal about themselves, basic human compassion compels you to set aside your biases and actually make an effort to hear them. 

In a recent research article published in Legislative Studies Quarterly, James M. Curry and Jason M. Roberts studied interpersonal relationships and their impact on collaboration within Congress. They wrote that “legislators and staff who trust each other and can communicate openly find it easier to work together, negotiate, and advance their policy interests together.” Interestingly the researchers also noted that congressional staff often cited travel, especially foreign travel, as “important experiences that help members develop positive and productive relationships.” In other words: when people are confronted with the unfamiliar, it provides an opportunity to form bonds and build bridges that lead to greater mutual understanding.

It should go without saying that the LGBTQ+ rights movement remains far from over. We would do well this Pride Month to take a step back and evaluate its successes and the lessons we can take away for the sake of our democracy. As we celebrate all the honest conversations over the decades that enabled tremendous leaps of progress like the Respect for Marriage Act, we should all endeavor to identify where we can break down similar barriers in our civic lives.

As Harvey Milk reminded us, we all have an obligation to “break down the myths, destroy the lies and distortions. For your sake. For their sake.”

Timothy J. Shaffer is the SNF chair of civil discourse at the Biden School for Public Policy and Administration, and director of civic engagement and deliberative democracy with the National Institute for Civil Discourse at the University of Arizona.