I Never Thought of It That Way: How to Have Fearlessly Curious Conversations in Dangerously Divided Times

“We’re desperate to correct the lies that make bad divisions worse. I get it; I am, too. But we’re missing something big here. Misinformation isn’t the product of a culture that doesn’t value truth. It’s the product of a culture in which we’ve grown too afraid to turn to each other and hear it.”

This passage challenges conventional approaches to combating misinformation, arguing that fact-checking alone cannot bridge political divides. Guzmán suggests that misinformation thrives not because people reject truth, but because they lack meaningful connections with those who hold different views. This interpretation supports both Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds and Curiosity as a Tool for Understanding by shifting focus from correcting false beliefs to examining why people embrace them. The quote introduces one of the book’s key arguments: That reducing political polarization requires creating spaces for genuine dialogue rather than simply fighting falsehoods with facts.

“But there’s just no question that sorting, othering, and siloing are an SOS. A call for help. They’re blinding us to each other’s perspectives, turning our neighbors, friends, and relatives into fools and monsters, and cranking up the volume way too high on what is already a cacophony of information that drowns out so much else.”

Guzmán uses wordplay with “SOS”—both as an acronym for the three divisive patterns and as a distress signal—while establishing the central crisis of the book. Through analogies, Guzmán illustrates how these patterns dehumanize others and prevent understanding. The passage connects to Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds by identifying how common social patterns intensify division and prevent accurate perception of others. By framing these divisive patterns as a cry for help rather than intentional malice, Guzmán creates space for examining them without accusation, setting up her later exploration of curiosity as a solution.

“This is how othering blinds us. We believe the other side is worse, so we make them out to be worse. Not just in how they see the world, but in how they treat good and decent people—us. As a result, we don’t approach people on the other side as they really are but as they appear to us through a thick layer of our own misperceptions.”

This passage employs extended metaphorical language around vision and perception to illustrate how prejudice functions. The metaphor of “blindness,” combined with the image of a “thick layer” obscuring reality, creates a visceral representation of how bias distorts understanding. The author demonstrates how othering creates a self-reinforcing cycle: Negative assumptions lead to negative interpretations of behavior, which then appear to justify the initial assumptions. This passage crystallizes one of the book’s arguments about how political polarization perpetuates itself through cognitive distortion rather than actual ideological differences.

“Othering goes too far when it tricks us into shrinking our world instead of expanding it. When we focus so much on the righteousness of our side, we stop thinking straight, we stop seeing straight, and we lose the ability to truly consider what’s different.”

This quote employs spatial metaphors (“shrinking” versus “expanding”) to contrast the limiting effects of othering with the potential for growth through openness to difference. The repetition of “straight” in “thinking straight” and “seeing straight” creates parallel structure that reinforces how othering affects both cognitive and perceptual processes. The word “righteousness” carries ironic undertones, suggesting that moral certainty can lead to moral rigidness. Guzmán uses active verbs (“tricks,” “shrinking,” “expanding”) to emphasize how othering is not a passive process but an active choice that shapes worldview and behavior. The passage encapsulates the author’s argument that political polarization does not simply separate people but actively diminishes their capacity for understanding and growth.

“Here’s my point: Your silos are not neutral pits of preferred information. Online, they are structured by platforms that want you to consume that information as long as possible.”

This quote employs a direct address to readers (“Your silos”) and uses concise, declarative sentences to emphasize its warning about digital platforms. The first sentence dismantles a common misconception through straightforward negation (“not neutral”), while the second reveals the calculated nature of online spaces. Through this structure, Guzmán highlights the manipulation inherent in social media design, transforming what might seem like personal choice into a demonstration of corporate strategy. This relates to the theme of Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds by encouraging readers to examine the hidden mechanisms shaping their own online behavior.

“I told you at the beginning of this book that I’m here to help you cross the divides you want to and not the ones you don’t. Choosing where to try to span these gulfs, and when, and how, is an entirely personal decision that no one other than you can touch.”

Through parallel structure (“where […] when […] how”) and emphatic phrasing (“entirely personal decision”), Guzmán acknowledges the reader’s agency in bridging divides. The figurative language of “crossing divides” and “spanning gulfs” makes abstract concepts of political and social division more concrete. This connects to the theme of The Importance of Bridging Divides while emphasizing that such bridging must be voluntary and personally motivated to be meaningful. The quote’s careful balance between encouraging connection and respecting boundaries reflects Guzmán’s nuanced approach to political dialogue.

“But the most important thing about a bridge isn’t that it’s crossed, but that it’s there. That it exists and is maintained so that one day, when someone who’s been nervous is ready, it can hold their weight, carry their truth, and expand their world.”

The author uses an extended metaphor to reframe the concept of bridging divides, shifting emphasis from immediate results to long-term potential. The tricolon structure in the final clause (“hold their weight, carry their truth, and expand their world”) creates a crescendo effect that moves from physical to metaphysical implications. Through this progression, Guzmán suggests that the mere existence of opportunities for connection holds value. This relates to both The Importance of Bridging Divides and Curiosity as a Tool for Understanding by emphasizing that creating spaces for potential dialogue matters more than immediate results.

“What happens in the world matters, but our interpretation of what happens in the world matters more. That doesn’t mean we should pay any less attention to facts. It means we should pay more attention to perspectives.”

The author’s careful qualification of her statement—emphasizing that facts remain important while elevating the significance of perspective—demonstrates her commitment to intellectual rigor while advancing her central argument about the importance of understanding different viewpoints. This passage exemplifies the importance of Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds, as Guzmán suggests that societal divisions stem not from disagreement about events themselves, but from differing interpretations of those events. By acknowledging the validity of multiple perspectives without dismissing factual reality, Guzmán establishes a framework for productive dialogue across ideological boundaries.

“Want to prime your mind for curiosity? Expose yourself to something new once in a while. The more knowledge you get, the more questions it sparks. Those questions pull in more knowledge, which sparks more questions, and on and on and on.”

This passage employs a rhetorical question followed by direct instruction, creating an accessible, conversational tone. The use of “spark” suggests that curiosity ignites spontaneously when properly cultivated, while the repetitive structure of the final sentence mimics the cyclical nature of learning that Guzmán describes. This quote expresses the theme of Curiosity As A Tool For Understanding by presenting curiosity as a skill that can be deliberately developed rather than an innate trait. The iterative process described—knowledge leading to questions, leading to more knowledge—demonstrates how sustained curiosity can deepen understanding.

“To bridge divides, we need friction. To make sure that friction sparks the kinds of insights that serve as a check on the warped, narrow view from our silos, we need to put our curiosity to work—minding the gaps between what we know and what we don’t, collecting knowledge that inspires different questions, charging ahead on the most complicated issues, and not letting lazy, easy answers suffice.”

This quote synthesizes two major themes of the book: The Importance of Bridging Divides and Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds. By presenting friction (See: Index of Terms) as necessary rather than problematic, Guzmán reframes political disagreement as an opportunity for growth. The passage encapsulates her central argument that meaningful dialogue across divides requires both active curiosity and a willingness to engage with complexity rather than seeking simple answers.

“But when you do choose to make the most of what conversation is capable of, finding yourself in exchanges with their own energy and momentum, what begins as a passing meeting of minds can grow into something transformative and unstoppable. Something that, even quietly and subtly, can build, maintain, or cross bridges that span the gulfs between us all.”

Through metaphorical language comparing conversations to bridges and energy systems, Guzmán emphasizes conversation’s potential to transform relationships and overcome divisions. The phrase “passing meeting of minds” evolves into “something transformative and unstoppable,” creating a rhetorical progression that mirrors the development of meaningful dialogue. The metaphor of bridges spanning gulfs serves as the culminating image, reinforcing The Importance of Bridging Divides. This quote encapsulates how genuine conversation can serve as a tool for moving beyond surface-level exchanges to create lasting connections across societal divides.

“When digital platforms display our conversations to huge groups of people, those conversations become as much or more about performing our perspectives than exploring them. That can really clobber curiosity, and I can’t stress this enough. We’re so accustomed now to speaking to a massive arena of potential listeners on social media that we never stop to think how effing weird that is—to say something into the world and have no clue who’s hearing it.”

Guzmán uses casual, colloquial language (“clobber,” “effing weird”) to establish an intimate tone while discussing a complex social phenomenon. The term “massive arena” effectively conveys how social media transforms private conversations into public performances, reinforcing the author’s argument that public visibility undermines authentic dialogue by making participants focus on impressing observers rather than understanding each other. This quote connects to the theme of Curiosity as a Tool for Understanding by illustrating how public exposure can inhibit genuine curiosity and learning. The passage also supports the book’s central argument that effective dialogue requires specific conditions, with privacy being crucial for authentic exchange.

“There’s a cute little quip about how you have two ears and one mouth, so you should listen at least twice as much as you speak. Too often what people hear in that concept of ‘listening,’ though, is a proxy for silence. They hear that listening is just hanging back and letting someone else have a turn. But that’s not what it is at all.”

Guzmán challenges conventional wisdom by first presenting a familiar saying about listening before dismantling its oversimplified message. Her use of the word “quip” immediately signals skepticism toward this common advice. The author employs parallel structure in the phrases “proxy for silence” and “hanging back” to emphasize how passive interpretations of listening fail to capture its true meaning. By directly confronting and rejecting these superficial definitions, Guzmán sets up her subsequent discussion of active listening as a crucial tool for understanding others. She stresses that genuine listening involves active engagement rather than mere politeness or turn-taking. The passage illustrates how meaningful dialogue requires participants to move beyond simplistic communication advice to develop deeper listening skills.

“It started to make sense when I ran into a distinction raised by author Ian Leslie. People aren’t puzzles; they’re mysteries. What’s the difference? ‘Puzzles are orderly. They have a beginning and an end. Once the missing information is found, they’re not a puzzle anymore,’ Leslie writes. ‘Mysteries are murkier, less neat. Progress can be made toward them by gathering knowledge and identifying the most important factors, but they don’t offer the satisfaction of definite solutions.’”

This passage uses analogies to contrast two ways of understanding human nature. The puzzle/mystery dichotomy serves as both a conceptual framework and a rhetorical device that makes abstract ideas concrete. The parallel structure in describing both puzzles and mysteries highlights their fundamental differences: Puzzles suggest completion and certainty, while mysteries embrace ongoing discovery and uncertainty. This advances the theme of Curiosity as a Tool for Understanding by suggesting that approaching people with predetermined expectations (as puzzles to be solved) limits genuine understanding. Instead, treating people as mysteries encourages continuous exploration and accepts the impossibility of complete knowledge.

“Fail to notice your assumptions and they might harden into lies. Turn them into questions and they’ll get you closer to truth.”

This aphoristic statement uses parallel structure to present two contrasting outcomes of handling assumptions. The verb “harden” creates an image of assumptions becoming rigid and impenetrable, while the movement toward “truth” suggests a journey or process. The brevity and balanced structure of these two sentences gives them the quality of a memorable maxim or teaching. This quote crystallizes the theme of Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds by presenting assumptions not as inherently problematic, but as starting points that can either obstruct or facilitate understanding, depending on how they are approached.

“One way we get stuck on reason is when we insist on our own perspectives to each other instead of letting them inform and enrich one other. That’s not conversation but competition, and no one wins. Even if someone appears to win because she’s good with rhetoric and argument, she misses the opportunity to learn about an opposing view that could make her thinking wiser and her arguments stronger.”

Guzmán uses antithesis to contrast two approaches to discourse: Competitive debate versus genuine dialogue. By juxtaposing “conversation” with “competition,” she emphasizes how treating discussions as contests undermines their potential value. The author uses parallel structure in “wiser” and “stronger” to reinforce the dual benefits lost when people prioritize winning over understanding. The imagery of being “stuck” on reason suggests that rigid adherence to logic without openness to other perspectives creates an intellectual deadlock. This quote exemplifies two major themes: The Importance of Bridging Divides and Curiosity as a Tool for Understanding. It demonstrates how treating conversations as opportunities for mutual enrichment rather than victory can lead to more productive dialogue and deeper comprehension of complex issues.

“And that’s the second way we get stuck on reason: when we push our reasons at each other without getting curious about the intuitive hopes, fears, and concerns behind them.”

By contrasting “pushing” with “getting curious,” Guzmán highlights how confrontational approaches to disagreement prevent deeper understanding. This passage connects to the theme of Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds by suggesting that effective dialogue requires examining the underlying emotional and intuitive foundations of beliefs rather than simply exchanging logical arguments. The quote reinforces one of the book’s central arguments: True understanding requires looking beyond surface-level reasoning to explore the deeper motivations that shape people’s viewpoints.

“If our beliefs form naturally over the course of our lives, is it the course of our lives, rather than a battle of reasons, that best explains our opinions to others?”

This rhetorical question connects to the theme of Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds by challenging the common belief that opinions result from purely logical processes. By suggesting that life experiences shape beliefs more than rational arguments, the author suggests that understanding someone’s life journey may be more valuable than engaging in logical debate.

“Point is: you can’t get traction with a mind you’re trying to outmaneuver or defeat. That’s why, if you’re serious about staying curious when you talk to people who think differently from you, it’s always better not to try to win.”

The author employs active verbs like “outmaneuver” and “defeat” to characterize counterproductive debate tactics, contrasting them with “staying curious” to emphasize the difference between combative and constructive approaches to dialogue. This quote exemplifies the theme of The Importance of Bridging Divides by rejecting adversarial communication in favor of genuine curiosity and engagement.

“To be most useful and alive, our opinions—particularly our political opinions—must be in curious conversation with each other. When we’re divided, politics feels like it’s exclusively about stopping the other side. But at its core, politics is about how we coexist wisely, how we create and recreate societies that support us in all our different priorities and preferences.”

The personification of opinions as being “alive” and in “curious conversation” presents political discourse as an organic, dynamic process rather than a static exchange of fixed positions. The author uses contrast to juxtapose two views of politics: As opposition (“stopping the other side”) versus collaboration (“how we coexist wisely”). This highlights The Importance of Bridging Divides by reframing political discourse from a zero-sum game to a collaborative process of social construction, suggesting that productive political dialogue requires both curiosity about others’ perspectives and recognition of shared goals in building functional societies.

“For all I know, I might be the only person someone knows who’s both close to far-right voters and admits to getting along with them. And if I am, I want to get those who ask past the cartoon villainy. I want to challenge their assumptions and complicate their certainty.”

The phrase “cartoon villainy” illustrates how political opponents are often reduced to one-dimensional caricatures. By acknowledging her unique position as someone who bridges political divides within her own family, Guzmán demonstrates Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds. The passage reveals Guzmán’s larger argument that meaningful political dialogue requires moving beyond simplistic characterizations of opposing viewpoints and embracing the complexity of human political beliefs.

“We’d rather not question someone who’s really on a roll, or risk seeming like fools when we admit something doesn’t make sense to us. But here’s a different way to look at it: A strong way to demonstrate that people matter to us is to prioritize getting their meaning, 100 percent, over seeming smart or keeping an easy flow.”

In this passage, Guzmán uses contrast to highlight the difference between surface-level politeness and genuine understanding. The first sentence acknowledges common social fears using informal language (“on a roll,” “seeming like fools”), to invoke the reluctance to interrupt. The second sentence, introduced by the pivot phrase “But here’s a different way to look at it,” presents an alternative perspective that reframes interruption as an act of respect rather than rudeness. This quote exemplifies Curiosity As A Tool For Understanding by encouraging readers to prioritize genuine comprehension over social comfort. The author suggests that meaningful dialogue requires the courage to appear vulnerable by admitting confusion.

“They use a label that makes you cringe. What’s next? It’ll be tempting to hear it as a rhetorical attack and escalate, but you’ll just both lose your balance. If you hear each other’s preferred terms as knowledge, though—knowledge to help direct your curiosity toward the other person’s values—you can invite them to explore that contrast with you, instead of against you. That gives you the opportunity to learn about concerns that don’t rise as high for you—concerns others have that you may be missing.”

This passage uses figurative language (“lose your balance,” “explore”) to illustrate the dynamics of challenging conversations. The quote exemplifies the theme of Questioning Assumptions Rather Than Changing Minds by transforming potentially confrontational moments into opportunities for mutual exploration. The author suggests that divergent terminology reveals different value systems, and understanding these differences can lead to more productive dialogue rather than escalating conflict.