Civility requires a baseline willingness to engage, a prerequisite that remains absent even when professional mediation or peace offerings are present, according to moral psychologist Deborah Mower. The realization follows a personal dispute where a neighbor refused all direct communication—including home-baked treats and phone calls—eventually routing all interaction through a lawyer to address a dispute over a rescue dog and property line trees.
This breakdown in neighborhood relations highlights a growing systemic issue in American social fabric. While civility is often framed as a set of tools—like active listening or “I” statements—Mower argues that these techniques are useless if one party refuses to step onto the court. The “information gap” in most conflict resolution advice is the assumption that both parties are motivated to find a solution; in reality, a lack of respect or a fear of disagreement often preempts the process entirely.
Why does civility fail when the tools are available?
Standard civility training focuses on the how of a conversation. Mower, an ethicist who teaches students to navigate moral dilemmas in law and medicine, notes that active listening and avoiding inflammatory language are the mechanics of dialogue. However, these tools cannot function without two specific precursors: respect for others and a comfort with disagreement.
When a neighbor responds to a peace offering of cinnamon rolls with a written demand to cease sending “baked items,” the conflict has moved beyond a misunderstanding. It has become a refusal to engage. This mirrors a broader sociological trend in the U.S. where Pew Research Center data frequently indicates deepening polarization and a decline in cross-partisan interaction.
The refusal to engage is often a defense mechanism. Mower suggests that people avoid the unfamiliar because it feels threatening. In the modern era, this is exacerbated by “social sorting,” where digital algorithms allow individuals to filter out opposing views, leaving them without the “muscle memory” required to handle a real-world disagreement.
How can we rebuild the motivation to disagree?
If motivation cannot be taught as a fact, it must be developed as a habit. Mower proposes a shift in perspective: treating conversational disagreements like a sports competition. In a tennis match, rivals do not need to like or empathize with one another to compete effectively. They only need to respect the other person’s role as a rival and participate fully in the game.
By framing a dispute as a “game” with specific roles—offense (presenting a claim) and defense (scrutinizing that claim)—the stakes are lowered. This structure transforms a threatening emotional encounter into a shared activity. This approach is currently being integrated into Mower’s research and workshops to help people move past the “cancel culture” paralysis seen on many college campuses, where students self-censor to avoid ostracization.
The goal of this “conversational rivalry” isn’t necessarily a consensus or a “win.” Instead, it is the process of presentation, analysis, and revision. According to Mower, the outcome may simply be an exchange of information, but the act of engaging prevents the “downward spiral” of total silence.
What happens when one side refuses to play?
Despite the application of moral psychology and professional ethics, some disputes remain intractable. Mower’s experience with her neighbors ended in total silence and an eventual move to a new home, proving that no “magic wand” exists for a party that steadfastly refuses to engage.
This reality underscores the importance of developing the capacity for civility before a crisis hits. Just as athletes train before a championship, individuals must practice disagreement in low-stakes environments—with co-workers, fellow citizens, or family members—to build the resilience needed for high-stakes conflict.
The decline of “third places”—community hubs like bowling leagues or neighborhood meetings—has stripped Americans of these natural training grounds. Without these venues, the willingness to engage atrophies, making a simple dispute over a dog or a tree a catalyst for lifelong estrangement.
Civility is a performance art that requires two actors. When one actor leaves the stage, the play ends. The only remaining strategy is to ensure that you, at least, are prepared to engage when the next curtain rises.
Have you ever tried to resolve a conflict where the other person simply refused to talk? How did you handle the silence?
