The Best Argument Against Political Polarization Is My Best Friend

This piece was co-written by AllSides interns Elizabeth Amara and Michal Heimowitz.

A few months ago, we stood in a room only feet apart, separated by a thick strip of black duct tape stretching across the floor.

During the philosophical exercise, the duct tape divided Democrats and Republicans on the room’s two sides. Michal stood on one side. Elizabeth stood on the other.

The visual felt symbolic. Two friends, divided by a strip of tape, learning that their political views don’t align with their similar identities. But the line on the floor wasn’t indicative of a gap between us. Perhaps because there isn't one. This is the story of how we ended up on opposite sides of that tape, and why we don't think it matters nearly as much as everyone may assume.

Elizabeth’s View

Michal is a Democrat, while I am conservative. She has dedicated her high school years to volunteering for progressive causes like Students Demand Action, supporting common-sense gun laws, and has interned with Democratic congressmen.

I, too, have spent my high school years pursuing politics; just on the opposite side of the aisle, I interned with Republican senate and gubernatorial campaigns and devoted much of myself to Turning Point USA.

If you only looked at our political affiliations, you might assume we would spend our days arguing with one another or avoiding each other entirely. Instead, we spend most of our time talking. About politics, certainly, but also philosophy, faith, history, family, and the endless stream of questions that seem to occupy both of our minds.

To be clear, Michal and I still have our disagreements.

On immigration, I emphasize the importance of strict enforcement of the law, whereas Michal focuses on how the immigration system can be remodeled to increase its accessibility to migrants. On gun control, I believe that the Second Amendment is a fundamental principle of the Constitution and what it means to be an American. Contrastingly, Michal views the Second Amendment through the lens of public safety. She is apprehensive about their easy accessibility and the severe safety risk that they pose.

I say that plainly because that is how we talk to each other. Neither of us softens our position to keep peace.

In many ways, our friendship feels increasingly unusual.

Political polarization has become one of the defining features of American life. According to a 2022 Pew Research study, Democrats and Republicans increasingly view not just the opposing party, but the people within it, in deeply negative terms.

Politics has become more than a set of policy preferences. It has become a social identity. We don't just disagree anymore. We sort.

We sort ourselves into media ecosystems, friend groups, campuses, neighborhoods, and online communities that reinforce what we already believe.We build entire worlds around political comfort.

I understand the temptation.It is far easier to talk to people who are conservative and already agree with my beliefs. There is less tension. Less conflict. Less risk of being wrong.

There is also less growth.

One of the reasons I value my friendship with Michal so deeply is because she constantly forces me to explain myself. Not in the hostile way social media does, where every disagreement feels like a competition, but in a way that comes from genuine curiosity.

Why do you say that?

What evidence convinced you?

Have you considered this consequence?

What about this perspective?

Those questions have made me a better thinker.

Some of my beliefs have become stronger because of our conversations. Others have become more nuanced. Both outcomes are valuable. If a belief cannot withstand scrutiny from someone I find to be intelligent and well-informed, perhaps it deserves to be challenged.

What surprises people is that our friendship has never required either of us to abandon our principles. In fact, I would argue the opposite.The strongest friendships are not built on agreement. They are built on trust.

Michal’s View

The same is true for me, Michal. Because I trust Elizabeth’s character, I know her arguments are in good faith. Because she trusts mine, she extends me the same courtesy. We are forced to confront the possibility that two people can share many of the same values: justice, dignity, compassion, and freedom—and still disagree about how those values should be translated into policy.

That realization feels increasingly rare.

Modern political discourse often assumes that disagreement must stem from ignorance or bad intentions. If someone reaches a different conclusion, we assume there must be something wrong with them. Yet some of the most thoughtful, compassionate, and intelligent people I know hold political views very different from my own.

Elizabeth is one of them.

Our friendship has convinced me that the greatest threat to civic life is not disagreement. Democracy has, and should, always involve disagreement. The greater threat is the loss of curiosity.

The moment we stop asking why people believe what they believe, we stop treating them as individuals and start treating them as categories.

I see that temptation constantly in politics and media. It is easier to debate a stereotype than a real person. It is easier to criticize "Republicans" than to engage with Elizabeth’s actual arguments. It is easier for her to criticize "Democrats" than to wrestle with mine.

Friendship makes those shortcuts impossible. Perhaps that is why I find myself increasingly grateful for ours. Not because late night conversations with Elizabeth have changed my politics. And not because I have changed hers. Rather, confiding in Elizabeth has reminded me that understanding another person, in all of their quirks, is far more important than defeating them.

Conclusion

We are not writing this to tell you that our disagreements are small or that they dissolve once you get to know each other. They don’t. We hold genuinely opposed views on immigration, on guns, and on how the country should be run, and neither of us expects that to change. This is not a story of conversion, but rather a story about what happens when you refuse to let disagreement dominate meaningful human connections.

In a culture obsessed with choosing sides, one of the most radical things two people can do is refuse to let our labels define us. Duck tape might divide us, but it's our best friends who unite us.

Elizabeth Amara and Michal Heimowitz are AllSides interns. Elizabeth has a Lean Right bias. Michal has a Lean Left bias.