Meeting in the Middle

For many people, life is good. For many others, it is not. We all live in our own realities and perceive life differently, which leads us to hold varying views—as supporters or opponents, liberals or conservatives, reformers or traditionalists, and so on. Yet, as Guy de Maupassant wrote in his 1883 novel A Woman's Life, "Life is never as good or as bad as one thinks."

"I think, therefore I am" (Discourse on the Method by René Descartes). To think, there must be a thinking entity—the self. Human cognition is shaped by personal experiences and, as a result, tends to be partial and biased. Truth often lies somewhere between opposing views. For this reason, Confucius argued that a gentleman should adopt the position of the mean—that is, to be moderate, impartial, and balanced, avoiding extremes and seeking the middle ground (see Understanding China: Geography, Confucianism, and Chinese-Style Modernization).

Meeting in the middle is not only a method of thinking or an approach to life; it is also a civilized way to resolve conflicts. When opposing parties insist on having their own way, they often reach an impasse, unable to find agreement. However, if they are willing to meet halfway, they become less divided. A compromise may not fully satisfy either side, but it provides common ground to move forward. This is, in fact, how nature works. The black tulip did not emerge from its parent plants overnight but through generations of compromise and improvement, as Alexandre Dumas described in his 1850 novel The Black Tulip. Politicians often strive for one-time solutions, but in reality, progress is a process. Each compromise moves us forward, inch by inch. While we may never achieve everything we desire, everyone benefits when we agree to advance together by meeting in the middle.

The result is something far greater—the black tulip. Aristotle said, "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts." When individual parts unite, they create a total effect that surpasses the sum of their individual contributions. A single stick is easy to break, but a bundle of sticks tied together is unbreakable. Logically, the whole is the sufficient condition for its parts, but the reverse is not true. In other words, what benefits society as a whole benefits all individuals, but what benefits an individual does not necessarily benefit society. Individualism, as a methodology, is flawed. As a political philosophy, it is also antidemocratic, as it aligns with the law of the jungle (see Tango and Individualism). Those who insist on having their own way without considering others' concerns are, in essence, dictators. A democracy formed by such individuals cannot function, as evidenced by the growing polarization, obstinacy, extremism, hostility, aggression, lack of restraint, uncooperativeness, and lawlessness in American society.

If we still hold the belief that "all men are created equal" as a self-evident truth, if we still value a united and harmonious society as being in the best interest of all citizens, if we still recognize our need for one another, and if we do not wish to be disregarded by others, then we must consider others and not insist on having our own way. Democracy is government of the people, by the people, and for the people—not for strong individuals. It is built on the agreement and cooperation of its people, not on antagonism and sabotage. It seeks balance, harmony, and the well-being of all, not the self-interest of a few. It follows the Golden Rule, not the law of the jungle. It requires us to resolve conflicts through compromise, not through power or force. A democracy must educate its people on its principles. If we believe these principles to be true, then meeting in the middle is the sensible, practical, civil, and democratic approach we must adopt—the approach of tango. I must say, at present, we are not doing very well in either our politics or our dance.