Amidst today’s battleground for public opinion that is more polarized than ever, how we talk to one another, especially when the topics are tough, has never mattered more. Reactivity and defensiveness drive conversations online and in real life alike, making it harder to find common ground even when it is there.
Our nation is currently in an emotional lockdown when it comes to talking to each other about important topics. People strive to have conversations, but seemingly only with the unspoken rule that feelings are to be avoided like the plague. The evidence for this exists everywhere there is a comments section.
Here’s just one example: a local San Francisco magazine site, SFist, covered the outcome of the annual Hunky Jesus 2025 Contest, a long-running Easter tradition in the city. One commenter, using the handle FactsOverFeelings, wrote, “When leftists cosplay as something they’re not, it’s ‘reclaiming the genre.’ When anyone else does the same thing, it’s ‘cultural appropriation’ (sic).”
What followed was a familiar unraveling: People mocked the irony that the original poster appeared deeply unhappy and reactive. In turn, he denied being emotional and doubled down on his attacks. The whole exchange illustrates how quickly a conversation can devolve, not because of emotions themselves, but because it’s become all too normal to deny our feelings and deride others for having them.
Remember a year ago when Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Marjorie Taylor Greene got into a verbal altercation in Congress? AOC moved to take down MTG’s insult in a congressional session, and MTG responded, “Are your feelings hurt?” All along the political spectrum, I’ve seen similar sentiments.
The more polarized our society becomes, the more we seem to cling to the idea that “facts” are the only respectable currency in a discourse, and emotions become liabilities that we use to undermine one another. But extinguishing emotion doesn’t make our arguments more compelling. It makes us more invisible and divided.
Interactions like these happen countless times each day on local news articles, social media, and in person. These skirmishes over who has the “real” facts and who is being emotional are only serving to fuel cycles of outrage and defensiveness.
Here’s the real deal: Emotions are not the problem.
Other people’s feelings are not threats. Nor are they irrelevant. They are simply data—human data—that help us understand ourselves and others. When we ignore or dismiss this data, our relationships become colder and conversations less effective.
My work as a therapist for 16 years has taught me that bringing emotions to the forefront moves people and creates the possibility for connection with them. People tend to feel better when they label their emotions, and sharing them helps people grow and bridge differences. The same principles apply to our public conversations.
When we zero out feelings from our discourse, we participate in a race to the bottom: who can out-intellectualize the other, often with no context, no connection, and no real qualification? These “more-objective-than-thou” performances fall into a few familiar traps:
“They” are hypocrites. Consistency can only be judged within clearly defined values. If everyone is held to standards they never understood in the first place, everyone is a hypocrite.
“They” are too extreme or have gone too far. Compared to what? Without appealing to a shared rubric, “extreme” is entirely subjective and is often just shorthand for “uncomfortable to me.”
Emotion-shaming becomes a go-to. “Need a safe space? Triggered much?” These comments weaponize the very human need for emotional safety. It’s like mocking someone for needing food or water. Needing emotional safety with others in our community isn’t a weakness. It’s a biological necessity.
What’s more, these supposed attempts to out-rationalize one another are often fueled by rage and resentment smoldering beneath the surface. Other times, people emotionally numb themselves as armor while lobbing insults. The bravado on display is the equivalent of the “I’m rubber and you’re glue” taunt that kids use on the playground.
Can we agree that it’s all a bit juvenile, and that at least some of us want to do better? So what can we do instead?
It starts with this: Speak as a person. Not as a pundit or a pseudointellectual, but as a feeling, breathing, present human being. Do this by acknowledging the following:
Who are you? Allow people to know the possible context for your perspective.
What values might you and your perceived opponent share? Establish a possible basis for a shared framework.
What feelings are you experiencing? Whether it’s a positive or difficult feeling, sharing allows the opportunity for others to connect to your experience.
For example, imagine if FactsOverFeelings had instead commented, “I am a Christian in San Francisco. I love this city and all its quirks. But when I see photos from the Hunky Jesus Contest, I don’t find it amusing. I feel mocked. I’d hope to see more kindness toward Christian members of our community.”
A statement like this has more emotional and intellectual integrity than most viral tweets.
Is there a risk in speaking sincerely? Absolutely. In a culture that is used to dunking on vulnerability, sincerity might feel like you’re going out on a limb. But sincerity is also the only thing powerful enough to change minds.
If you want to be compelling, be visible. Speak about your feelings and let people react with theirs. Emotional honesty isn’t the opposite of logic—it’s what makes logic worth listening to.
And if you find yourself overwhelmed, start here: Know the difference between your emotions, particularly the more difficult ones like sadness, anger, and fear, and the emotions that overtake you when your threat physiology takes over (i.e., when you get triggered).
Getting triggered means that some version of fight-or-flight has taken over the body, and it’s normal for experiences online to trigger fight-or-flight because we are creatures sensitive to social alienation after all. When fight-or-flight takes over, it drives your emotions into states like overwhelm, shutdown, and confusion.
So, when you’re having more extreme reactions to what you read online, like the urgent need to fight with someone online or a crippling despair, take a moment instead. Ask yourself: Am I speaking because I’m triggered? And if so, consider addressing that first before acting on the impulse.
Self-awareness of your own physiological stress is a muscle that can be developed. You don’t have to be a Navy SEAL or a world-class meditator to do it. You just have to care enough to try. If you’re curious to learn more about how your nervous system responds to stress and connection, my book I Want to Connect offers practical tools to help you better understand yourself and relate to others with more compassion and clarity.
Our country doesn’t need more clever comebacks and verbal showdowns. It needs more courage. Not the kind of courage that steps out in battle, but the kind that risks being seen.
That kind of courage is what heals. And more of it in our discourse just might help us rebuild something worth being a part of.