Promoting dialogue in polarized societies is complicated. You can’t talk to others if you first deny them the right to listen. One of the most serious problems we face today is precisely this inability to hear different points of view and, from there, build a common understanding. We have grown accustomed to conversing only with those who think alike, to taking refuge in bubbles of shared affirmations that reaffirm our position and gradually transform the other into an adversary or enemy.

Community requires a conscious effort: analyzing other perspectives, understanding other circumstances, recognizing that the world isn’t limited to our own eyes. That’s what’s been shattered. And rebuilding it requires determination and willpower; a desire to truly understand, not only from one’s own perspective, but from a collective perspective. The richness of community doesn’t exclude individual problems or differences; the good and the bad coexist within it, and there is ongoing work to develop ourselves as people. The difference is that individually, each person polishes their own rough edges, but no one is saved alone: ​​in the community, this polishing is done together, through exchange, listening, and mutual learning. The wisdom of the collective will always be richer than that of the individual, because it combines experiences and nuances that improve judgment.

The synodal method fits into this logic. Traditionally used, it was revitalized with the Second Vatican Council, when Pope Francis convened a Synod on Synodality to journey together, to sit down and think together. It presupposes closeness, communion, and participation. And it is a useful model not only for the Catholic Church, but for any space that requires dialogue, participation, and collaborative decisions. It involves listening first, participating and then dialoguing, discerning and assuming co-responsibility for agreements. This dynamic allows for building bridges, breaking down hierarchies, speaking horizontally between different social groups, empathetically understanding the circumstances of others, and forging ties between religious denominations or between the Church and society (which is all of us) on the basis of shared respect. By eliminating verticality, the real possibility of consensus opens up where everyone feels represented.

We communicate differently. Today, everything is shorter, more immediate: short messages, images, seconds-long videos. We express ourselves differently: music, art, and the language of social media have captured these expressions, and they are no less beautiful or profound than the classics. They are different because we are different. The new unsettles us, it frightens us. But no one loves what they don’t know. To love, you must first listen, observe, and draw closer. That is the attitude we need in the face of new ways of thinking and living: not that of someone who judges from afar, but that of someone who sits at the table, converses, asks questions, and learns.

The so-called “culture war” is perhaps the most ferocious expression of our polarization: it turns differences into trenches and transfers everyday resentments into the realm of politics. Yet, amidst all that noise, there are still Sunday dinner tables where a granddaughter, with blue dye, tattoos, and earrings, converses with her grandmother with wrinkled hands and a rosary on her fingers. They speak differently, they think differently, but they recognize and love each other. That small act of listening to each other, even if it hurts, is already a seed of peace. It reminds us that listening can become hope.

The current situation demands that we all strive more to listen than to be heard. In this effort, common ground can emerge to change a reality that is becoming increasingly evident: the fear of others because they think differently. Instead of inviting each other to reflect on whether we might be wrong, at least in part, we expel this difference from the public sphere, and in its extreme forms, even from physical existence. Reversing this process demands recognizing that community life requires understanding others in their entirety. This can be the path to rebuilding dialogue, consensus, respect, listening, and integral development, both in individual and collective life. And it requires humility, because we too can be wrong.

In the midst of a divided world, Jesus surprised with phrases that dismantled the trenches. He once said: “He who has ears to hear, let him hear” (Mark 4:9). It is not just an invitation to listen with our ears, but with our hearts. Perhaps therein lies hope: daring to truly listen to others to discover together what we do not yet see. When listening becomes hope, polarization ceases to be a destination and becomes the starting point of something new.

Marisol Pérez Tello

Former Minister of Justice of Peru and current member of the International Academic Committee.