On March 5, 1770, nine British soldiers fired on a crowd of Bostonians, killing five in what quickly became known as the Boston Massacre. The event was one of the defining moments in the leadup to the American Revolution, and it is considered one of the most heinous examples of British tyranny in the colonial era.
Less well known, however, is what happened to the soldiers who killed the five Bostonians, who were quickly indicted on murder charges by a patriot-leaning Boston court. The soldiers were represented in court by John Adams, the same John Adams who would go on to be the most vigorous proponent of independence from Britain in Congress and serve as the second president of the United States. Adams was, at the time, already a prominent patriot lawyer in the area—and yet, he defended the soldiers, arguing successfully that they had been provoked by the crowd. Seven of the soldiers were found not guilty, and two were found guilty of the lesser charge of manslaughter.
Why would John Adams, who wanted nothing more than to see his native Massachusetts free from British domination, defend the soldiers who killed five Bostonians and provided so much fuel to the patriot cause? Why would he provoke the anger of his friends and allies, which certainly resulted from this decision? He explained himself, saying “These criminals charged with murder are not yet legally proved guilty, and therefore, however criminal, are entitled by the laws of God and man to all legal counsel and aid.” [1] He further predicted, correctly, that “this whole people will one day rejoice that I became an advocate for the aforesaid criminals.” [2]
John Adams’ choice to set aside his political bias and pursue justice, even when it appeared harmful to his political allies, provides a powerful example of a moral principle I value deeply. I’ve often said that if I were to write a code of ethics, near the top of the list I would write the command to “frequently criticize yourself and your allies, and compliment your opponents.” By this I mean more than the simple commandments to “beware of pride” and “love your enemies,” though those gospel principles certainly inform my worldview. More specifically, a willingness to criticize oneself and compliment one’s enemies demonstrates integrity, virtue, a commitment to truth, and an ability to rise above the tribalistic partisan politics that threaten democratic society.
Further, and crucially, doing so also acts as a check on extremism. If you can stand your ground where you are, with a firm commitment to principles, you will insulate yourself against the temptation to take every political inch you can get to score points over your enemies. The best historical example here is, of course, the French Revolution—though it teachers us more about what not to do. During the Revolution, yesterday’s
radicals became today’s conservatives and tomorrow’s traitors to the republic due to the relentless tide of revolutionary fury that, “like Saturn, devoured its own children.” [3] It was the revolutionaries’ inability to ever criticize themselves, to rein in their extremism, or to see their opponents as anything besides enemies to freedom, that led them to destroy all their noble accomplishments, devolve into bloody slaughter, and ultimately bring the Ancien Régime back to power.
I’ll be the first to admit that doing this is not easy. It requires great discipline, self-denial, and patience. It’s not easy to compliment your enemies, especially when they never compliment you back. It’s not easy to criticize your allies, especially when your enemies will use it against you.
However, political scientist Lilliana Mason suggests that there may be a solution. In her book Uncivil Agreement: How Politics Became Our Identity, Mason describes a phenomenon that many have long noticed—that Americans are increasingly becoming neatly sorted into two broad camps under the umbrella of their party or ideology [4]. Everything in American society is politicized, and stereotypes are more and more accurately describing reality. For example, you can likely guess someone’s opinion on mask mandates based on their opinion on abortion, and you can guess their opinion on abortion based on a glance at their Spotify Wrapped (Jon Bellion, Morgan Wallen, AJR: reactionary conservative. Charli XCX, Phoebe Bridgers, Lana Del Rey: bisexual Doc Marten-wearing socialist).
Mason coined the term “cross cutting cleavages” to describe people who hold identities that do not match up with their party—for example, a liberal Christian, a Black conservative, or a freedom-loving, Carhartt-wearing, gun-toting Democrat. Mason claims that such people are uniquely positioned to heal polarization and resist extremism, because even their own identities are pulled in two opposite directions. This moderates the temptation towards extreme partisan bias.
Do not take me the wrong way—I am not labeling you as an extremist if your most important identities broadly line up with the stereotypes of your party. I’m also not saying that people with clear cross-cutting cleavages cannot be extreme. However, as Mason’s research shows, people who embrace cross-cutting identities are statistically less likely to be extreme, more forgiving towards out-partisans, and less prone to intense partisan hatred.
In conclusion, I invite you to consider and embrace your cross-cutting cleavages. Don’t stop yourself from rooting for the Chiefs because “the liberals like them.” Don’t leave the Church because the conservatives in your ward annoy you. Embrace the tensions, break out of the molds, and be authentically yourself. In the process, you just might help save America.