Resolving Conflicts by Sidestepping Them—Part II
Conflicts vs. Disputes
Introduction
Sometimes the two poles of a conflict happen to belong to two different parties. If without first resolving the conflict itself, as discussed last time, you instead choose to frame the conflict as a dispute between those two parties—and especially if you happen to be one of them—you’ll have turned the conflict into a fight.
Every conflict is in principle, conceptually, inherently neutral. Turning it into a dispute, which is inherently polarized, seems to us never to be a constructive thing to do. Why on earth did anyone ever think it was?
Unfortunately, people already fight over a long list of other kinds of things that aren’t actual conflicts, such as settling an old score. Why would we add conflicts to the list of things to fight over, when that list is already far too long?
Turning a conflict into a dispute will only compound the original problem, whatever it was, force people to pick illusory sides, and raise the emotional temperature to the point where reason may not even get a look in.
At the same time, fighting over the issues will in itself do absolutely nothing to resolve the conflict that was at the root of it all.
For there to be genuine and lasting peace between the disputants, the conflict will have to be resolved anyway, so why not just take care of that first?
—The Editors
Resolving Conflicts by Sidestepping Them—Part II: Conflicts vs. Disputes
If I have £100 in the bank and two bills for £100 each, the stark simplicity of the conflict leaves me relatively little freedom in finding a resolution. But more complexity opens up a richer field of possibilities.
It is on account of the thankfully greater degree of complexity involved that my freedom to manoeuvre is greatest where the conflicting aims are those of different parties.
Otherwise, if there are two seemingly incompatible agendas, what difference can it make who those agendas happen to belong to?
The general form of any conflict remains the same: an illusory choice between eating our cake and having it. Surely, it would be sufficient if either party on its own were to take responsibility for finding a way to make the various aims compatible.
If this point is commonly overlooked, it may be because the kinds of conflicts we read about in the newspapers have turned into disputes by the time we get to read about them.
Disputes are not conflicts, but arguments, quarrels, controversies. Typically, a dispute represents a difference of opinion on what to do about a particular conflict, the bone of contention.
Of course, as an alternative to resolving the conflict itself, you and I can take up the cudgels and fight over which of the competing aims should simply be sacrificed. And then we will have not only the conflict we started with, but a fight on our hands.
Just as Tweedledum and Tweedledee agreed to have a battle, we can agree to pick sides and have an argument, instead of just resolving the conflict itself, jointly or on our own, and to the satisfaction of all.
Scratch a dispute and you will find a conflict. A dispute artificially crystallizes a conflict into a form in which the possibilities for resolution have been completely obscured.
Similarly, a debate over which appointment to cancel obscures a more useful question, “Where shall we meet for tea?” A fertile design question about book storage would be obscured by an argument over wall space if my wife does not want my prints in the hall.
Now any fool can turn a conflict into a dispute and, given half a chance, will. It is surely better not to allow a conflict to become the subject of a dispute in the first place.
A dispute quickly becomes an altercation, and calling your neighbour a jackass or accusing him of hypocrisy or base motives improves the climate of discussion infrequently, and allows the possibilities for resolving the underlying conflict to recede further from view.
Worse yet, where a pure conflict—in essence, a conceptual puzzle—attracts thinkers, a dispute—in essence, a battle—attracts, God help us, well-intentioned peacemakers.
We all know that you stand as great a chance of making matters worse as better when you stick your nose into other people’s quarrels, whether invited to do so or not, and in whatever form you intercede—mediation, arbitration, conciliation, shuttle diplomacy. They are unnecessary evils, all.
All have a tendency to reinforce the transformation of a conundrum into a controversy, and to make a drama out of a crisis. All, in contrast to free inquiry, help sustain the illusion that we are dealing with “sides.”
We tend to treat conflicts as disputes; we should do better to treat disputes as conflicts.
Even in the absence of any dispute, where the conflict remains in the privacy of our own mind and we are struggling to choose between seemingly incompatible aims both equally our own, there is the temptation to treat even our own conflict as a kind of internal debate, an inner struggle!
I weigh up the two (false) alternatives, compare pros and cons. I dispute and even horse-trade with myself. I seek the better of the twin alternatives, or search for compromises or middle ground. In short, I take the conflict as given and do nothing towards resolving it. It seems to me that any such approach is often not only a waste of time and mental energy, but a totally bonkers thing to do in the first place.
For there is another option always open to us, as we will see next week, one that makes more sense—to me, anyway.
© Copyright 2010, 2023 Dr James Wilk
The moral right of the author has been asserted