Leadership in our divided times: The power and pragmatism of radical empathy

How can America come back from this place of soaring hostility and distrust?

Consider Yakov Argamani, the father of 26-year-old hostage Noa Argamani, a young woman who was abducted by Hamas at the Nova music festival on Oct. 7 and remains captive. Argamani empathizes with Palestinian parents who lost children in the Israel-Hamas war. “I’m fighting in my own way,” he said about his unlikely approach, “not with anger, through dialogue.”

Or the Black families of the victims killed in 2015 by a white supremacist at Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, S.C. They forgave the killer to his face just days after the massacre. Or the Amish parents of 10 girls, ages 6-13, shot in their schoolhouse in Lancaster, Pa., in 2006: they invited the widow of the murderer, who committed suicide at the scene, to their homes for services for their girls.

These families channeled their pain into radical empathy rather than rage and vengeance. Their moral power astonishes us because it feels so incongruous in our brutish, tribal world. In this election year, the divisions will only get worse.   

Since division permeates every part of society, perhaps it is time for leaders across politics, government, and the private sector to relearn this lesson. Radical empathy has healed the deepest divisions. It marks a leader as strong and visionary. Progress is the goal, not simply protest or outrage.

How is it done?  

The first step is to acknowledge your truth is not the only truth and your humanity is not the only humanity. Easy to say, hard to do. Rage is understandable; we should be outraged at brutality. But at the same time, we must try to understand the circumstances that led to such behavior.

In Rwanda, Hutu leaders urged their tribesmen to massacre their own countrymen, the Tutsis, other-izing them as cockroaches and worse. Genocide followed. But when the killings stopped, Hutus and Tutsis worked side by side, understanding grew, and peace persisted. Twenty-five years ago in Northern Ireland, the Good Friday Agreement was built on people-to-people reconciliation. Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu taught us the power of truth and reconciliation.

Second, personal relationships can humanize even the worst stereotypes. Shankar Vedantem of NPR’s “Hidden Brain” points to the parents, relatives, and friends of gay Americans as a central reason for the cultural and political acceptance of marriage equality in the U.S. Gay Americans exist everywhere across society — in families, workplaces, religions, big cities, and small towns. He said, “It is difficult to fight with people who embrace your values.”  

The 1990s Oslo peace process began by bringing Israeli and Palestinian negotiators to live together outside the Norwegian capital. They shared meals, walks, and stories about their lives and families. Preconceptions melted. Relationships grew. Allies formed. Peace seemed close at hand.

Third, culture is nudged forward by changing norms, or as Harvard law professor Cass Sunstein says, “norm entrepreneurs.” Mr. Argamani and the Charleston families model behavior that gives permission for others to follow. Ted Olson and David Boies squared off against each other in the Supreme Court’s decisive case, Bush v. Gore. But years later, they joined together to argue successfully that California’s ban on same-sex marriage was unconstitutional. All of them — especially Olson, a lifelong conservative — shattered norms.

During COVID-19, the most effective methods to encourage vaccine skeptics to get vaccinated was through hyper-local influencers with whom the skeptics could personally identify or knew. It is hard work, requiring people-to-people outreach. But in Philadelphia and Atlanta, local African American doctors and clergy were effective in increasing the vaccinations of Black Americans.  

That we live in troubled times is not news. It seems there are no solutions to our cascading existential crises — just growing inertia and a sense of hopelessness. We all feel it. Studies show our political affiliation is increasingly our social identities; we despise our opponents, considering them alien, untrustworthy, and iniquitous — even when they’ve done nothing to specifically provoke us. Tribalism trumps all.  

But hate is stupid politics in democracies or organizations where more allies means more progress. Graham Greene said, “Do not despise your enemies. They have a case.”

We’ve learned that hope blossoms even in the most difficult of situations. The Charleston and Lancaster families and Mr. Argamani remind us that there is a different way forward. Perhaps it’s time for us to check our moral certainty long enough to at least consider — not necessarily agree with — the other side’s perspective. History shows that having the courage to accept complexity can clarify a way forward for leaders. It might be inconvenient, but progress depends on it.

Rob Shepardson is co-founder of SS+K, a full service marketing and communications agency, and has over 30 years of experience in politics, marketing, and brand consulting, leading impactful campaigns for a wide array of clients, including major corporations like HBO, Starbucks, and Microsoft, as well as significant initiatives such as President Obama’s election bids, LeBron James’s More Than A Vote, and Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move! campaign.