When we didn’t know everyone’s politics

Rubenerd · 3 days ago · discuss

Marco Arment wrote about a world in which he didn’t know the politics of his neighbours. He just knew they were friendly people who helped him out, and he responded in kind. It sounds profound, at least superficially. I smile at strangers on the street, open doors for everyone, and help parents with their prams onto trains, all without knowing what their personal politics are. I greet my neighbours in the morning on the way to work, wave at the postie, and tip my hat to the guy who makes my morning coffee. Some may agree with me, some may disagree, but we all get along. Right? I mean, right? But here’s where I think he lost me: While privilege and power dynamics play a complex and unavoidable role in this, I don’t want to associate with any community that would insist on either of those. I’m going to be more candid here than usual. Bothsidesism doesn’t work on me. Quite the opposite. Marco and I get along easily with people in our respective countries because we’re middle-aged white guys. We’re automatically granted respect based on what we are. We’re able to engage in this civility because our right to exist isn’t being questioned. It’s grim how quickly the veneer of mutual respect disappears when, say, a trans friend of mine walks with me, or when I go into client meetings with female engineers. To quote David Morrison, the standard you walk past is the standard you accept. I’m not proud to say this is something I had to learn. I never experienced racism until I started dating Clara, for example. “Get one of your own”, “she’s a spy”, “yellow fever”, and such nonsense. Rather than responding with civility, I call them out. Naturally, they immediately back away, because racism is a key predictor of cowardice. Anyway! For most of my life I agreed that politics “had a time and a place”. It wasn’t until I spent more time with marginalised people that I realised that for them, turning off politics isn’t a choice. They have to live it, every second of every day. I felt guilty for what I’d previously advocated, but I’ve tried to channel this into being an ally, defender, and friend. I still get this wrong sometimes, and people rightly call me out. I get it. When confronted with this reality, retreating to the familiar and defending yourself is natural and instinctive. But it’s not how we grow. Ignorance is bliss, but it’s not a virtue. That’s why his post falls short for me, irrespective of intentions. By Ruben Schade in Sydney, 2026-09-17.