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A
I mean, the simple pleasures of that dopamine hit cannot be denied. And I have certainly felt those dopamine hits and, you know, gotten high off of them in my younger years. I don't think, Yasha. For me, it was a matter of just growing older. I actually suffered mentally and physically. My health dramatically declined as a result of my insistence on clinging to being.
B
And now the good fight with Yasha Monk. My guest today is Irshad Manji. Yershad cut her teeth in public discourse with a set of really contentious debates in which she upheld a liberal interpretation of Islam, often under a lot of pressure and criticism. She is an author who has written, most recently the book Don't Label Me, and she is the founder of the Moral Courage Project. In all of this work, Irishard is emphasizing the importance of dialogue and civil discourse, even in topics where there's very strong emotions on both sides and even at a time of deep political polarization. In this conversation, we talked about why Irshad chose to become a US Citizen quite recently, why she continues to have faith in the American project even in troubled times. We spoke about what it takes to open up a genuine conversation with somebody who has very different views than you. How to decline a conversation politely when you feel like somebody is not earnest about wanting to have an exchange of views, but in ways that might facilitate that later on. And how to eschew the temptations of moral certitude. How to get out of a stance in which you are craving the dopamine hit, of telling somebody else that you're right and they are wrong. Yashad Manzi, welcome back to the podcast.
A
Thank you. Great to be with you.
B
I know that you became a US Citizen recently. Why isn't this the wrong time to become a citizen of the United States of America?
A
Well, it's funny you should say it that way, Yasha, because when I told many of my US Friends that I had just become naturalized, a number of them, including a few conservative friends, offered their condolences. They actually said things to me like, are you sure you want to do this? And when I told my Canadian friends, very few of whom are conservative, they offered their congratulations. So this is a real interesting turning of the tables because Canadians historically have been pretty insecure about their identity, especially living right next to the great elephant that is the United States. But over the years, and well before Trump 2.0, Canadians have gained a confidence that belies Trump's own arrogance in, you know, starting a war with Canada. Canadians are ready to win that war. Let me tell you. So anyway, all to say that I, I really love, first of all, the people of America. I find people here, and this is a massive generalization, I know, but I travel the country routinely for my work, and I find the people here infinitely more generous, outgoing, relational, kind than I do in just about any other country, including the one that I gratefully was raised in Canada. So this is the reason that I stay. What about you? You're a recent immigrant, or I should say recent immigrant, but you were naturalized, what, about five years ago?
B
That's right. So I was naturalized at another strange moment, which was a few months after Trump was first elected president. And I think a lot of the reason for that was that I remained both committed to the fundamental political values of the United States, to the basic precepts enshrined in the United States Constitution, but also that I remained pretty optimistic about the ability of the United States to function as a deeply diverse democracy. I thought that America was much more likely than many other places in the world to succeed in this attempt to have ethnic and religious diversity as part of a common enterprise, as part of a common polity. Now, in some ways, I've become more optimistic about that since 2017. It's heartening, for example, that knowing the color of the skin or the ethnicity, the race of a voter today tells you less about who they're going to vote for than it did eight years ago. But in other ways, I am more concerned now, I think, than I was then about our ability to avoid falling into just very deep polarization that might undermine those basic political values for which I also signed up. So I guess that's an interesting comparative case. How does it feel in 2025 versus 2017 to be an American citizen? And how much hope do you retain about our ability to sustain this experiment?
A
Can I explain why I have more hope than perhaps the average left of center person? I see things at a very granular level precisely because my work has me interacting with people in their day to day settings. And the day after the November election, I was already scheduled to be speaking to a large group of educators in the heartland. And I started by asking them how they're feeling. And you can imagine there was a lot of silence. And I then heard somebody in the front row whimper a little bit. She was crying and I asked her to open up about that. And what she told me was very heartening. She said, all I can tell you is that I am committing myself to being more present for my community, my neighborhood, my locale, than I ever have been in my life, because that is where I know I belong. That is where I know I can have influence. And as I was listening, I noticed out of the corner of my eye somebody waving something from the very back of the room. I finally turned and leaned in, and it was a fellow educator waving Kleenex. She wanted me to give it to this person in the front row. Now, that might sound like a nothing burger to many of our listeners, but let me tell you, Yasha, this is an indicator of what I love about the United States. The people of the United States is that when it comes time to help one another out, they do in the smallest of ways, not just the biggest of ways. And I must tell you, I typically don't see that in Canada. What I see is people complaining about the government not doing enough or when there is some kind of a, you know, even local crisis, what's the government going to do? Now, again, I want to acknowledge these are big generalizations here, but it's precisely because I'm not picking up a grassroots solidarity, except now, now that Trump has threatened Canada's sovereignty. But prior to that, I was not picking up a grassroots solidarity in my country of Canada that I have always noticed in America. And I'd like to believe that not only will that continue, but maybe even fortify as a result of people recognizing that national politics should not poison meaningful relationships on the ground.
B
So I absolutely agree with that commitment. I guess the question is, at what point does that commitment break down? I have a good friend who's Croatian, and, you know, she grew up partially before the civil war, but then spent part of her childhood during the Yugoslav civil war. And, you know, I always found it very striking that she used to say, you know, this is all made by politicians. It was all imposed from above. You know, among us ordinary people, there had never had been any problems. And to some extent, I think she probably idolized that and came from a social circle which was probably much more multinational and cosmopolitan within Yugoslavia than many other social circles. You know, she grew up in a big city rather than the countryside and so on and so forth. But partially, perhaps it understates the extent to which that's always the case, to which, you know, in the day to day, neighbors can get along and know each other and have respect for each other and so on. But if a political level becomes bad enough, then that might not rescue us. Now, I'm not saying that we're about to have an ethnic civil war in the way that Yugoslavia did. I think that's extremely Unlikely, but perhaps the day to day kindness of people, the solidarity, the open mindedness, the tolerance, all of which I very, very much feel as part of what life in America is, can coexist with the political anger, with the willingness to tear down a system, with the determination to remake your country in ways that can turn out to have very bad consequences.
A
Absolutely right. And this is why anybody who either feels massive despair or blithe optimism about where we're headed, it really isn't, you know, paying attention to the complexities of, by the way, any human systems, not just America. Right. Because the whole idea of a complex system is that it's unpredictable. You know, human beings are not machines. We can't simply have one part of us replaced and then it's all good and, you know, we're on, we're back on script, or at least back to what's expected of us. No, we are adaptive creatures. So it stands to reason that in different contexts, different aspects of us are going to be coming out. And this is, I think, why, Yasha, I believe so profoundly in the power of relational leadership, is that when we enter into even contentious conversations, the way I show up, am I being curious or am I being judgy? The way I show up will influence how the conversation goes. Will it actually remain a conversation or will it become a confrontation? And so, you know, for anybody who cares to appreciate that we still have agency at a time like this, it's actually more of a responsibility at a time like this for us to use our agency in order to shape the outcomes that we want in our lives. We can't control politicians. God knows that's true. But we can take charge of our own dispositions and thereby deepen trust or alleviate distrust in our own environment.
B
And what do you think that means? Concretely? I'm sure a lot of listeners to this podcast agree with what you just said and that they have a desire to be in touch with the compatriots in that kind of way to build those kind of links. But I think the exhortation to do that can sometimes sound a little bit abstract. Right? Can sound a little bit like, go out and do those things. We somehow need them to happen. But sort of, how do we do that? And how do we do that without setting aside our fundamental differences and disagreements in a way that might feel inauthentic? Is there a way of actually being in community with people who really do have fundamental political differences from us in a way that neither lets those differences stop us from being able to see our mutual humanity and the values we might share, nor requires us to artificially sort of check for Metro door.
A
Yes, I believe that there is not just the possibility, but actually the beauty here of taking a both end approach to everyday life in which you can stand your ground and create common ground. So let's just parse that for a second. Standing your ground is about what you believe. That's part of who you are. That is what a lot of people consider, you know, part and parcel of their integrity. So I'm not for a moment suggesting that we dilute or violate our own convictions. Not at all. Stand your ground and create common ground. Creating common ground is really about how you express what you believe. So that if you can come from that place of curiosity rather than judgment and genuinely want to know, you know, your other's backstory, ask sincere questions about that backstory and listen not merely to understand, which of course has become a cliche. So much of a cliche, by the way, that I've noticed the way we listen to understand these days is simply to mouth the word, oh, I hear you. Oh, no, no, no, I hear you. Oh, I hear you. And then we go right back into our own agenda.
B
I hear you.
A
Right? You do hear me, don't you? As if these people are still, you know, our playthings or objects for our agenda. Right? No, it's listen to, learn and, you know, regularly, like making it a habit, if you will, to offer up a thank you because. Thank you because you didn't need to take this time out of your busy day to help me understand where you're coming from. Now, I'm not so sure I agree with your point of view. In fact, I've got a couple more questions for you, if you don't mind me asking. But I really do appreciate that you're, you know, spending this time with me. Right. Research repeatedly shows that we humans, we actually don't need to be agreed with. What we need to be is just heard. And most people, I think, to this day, conflate hearing others with agreeing with them. And when we indulge in that conflation, we then swallow often, not always, but we often swallow this trope that, oh, now I'm being complicit because I'm not pushing back or I'm not calling out. No complicity here. In fact, when you call out, when you push back, is when you make people more defensive and therefore more dogmatic than even they intend to be. So the beauty of this approach, which I call moral courage, meaning speaking truth, to the power of our primal brain even as we speak. Truth to power out there. The beauty of this both and approach is that not only are we lowering the temperature, but by lowering the temperature, we are motivating others to hear us as well. So you can see how this is not about being civil. I don't like that word, by the way. It's not about being civil. It's not about being nice. It's about being an effective communicator of what you want more of the world to hear.
B
I'm very attracted to that position. I sort of hear in my brain what the objections to it are going to be. And one of them is, but when you look at some of the current political leadership, they want to antagonize people, right? They get joy out of owning the lips, out of horrifying people. They, you know, part of the kind of mugger aesthetic is to shock and awe, you know, is to demonstrate that you are much more interested in burning things down than in building bridges.
A
I buy that. Yeah. So let me be that much more clear. I'm not saying that sincerely, asking questions, listening to, learn, creating, rather than merely hoping for common ground. I'm not saying that this approach will turn conflict entrepreneurs into angels. Not at all. But a couple of points I want to make. One is that you don't know who's who until you actually try. What I have experienced is that many people assume that because of my politics, I must be a conflict entrepreneur. And so they have twisted the golden rule into a new rule. Do unto others before they do unto you. In other words, people will often come at me very aggressively because they assume that. That I'm going to just, you know, try to slam dunk them. And when they see that that's not at all my M.O. that is when they realize, whoops, okay, I'm not going to sort of reduce you to the politics that I think you have. I'm going to actually hear you out. So first and foremost, don't assume that everybody is a narcissist, a sociopath, or a conflict entrepreneur. Now, some people are, which is why, in my view, there is no shame in offering up respect, realizing you're not going to get any of it back, and then saying, you know, I've given you as much respect as I know how during this conversation, and I'm not sensing it being reciprocated. So let's just pick up where we left off. Once you're ready to show me that respect. Notice you're not saying screw you. Which ends the Conversation not just today, but pretty much forever. Or you're not saying we'll just have to agree to disagree because again, that shuts the door on further engagement. It suggests that we have nothing left to say to one another. Instead, you're putting the ball of accountability in the court of the person who so far has not respected your dignity. And if they actually care enough about the issue to want to continue, then it's up to them to come back with a more grown up attitude.
B
That's very interesting. What does that look like in a more kind of intimate context? Right, so when it comes to strangers that we might encounter in the proverbial town square, it's sort of relatively easy to make the distinction, right? Where there's going to be some people who are conflict entrepreneurs. They just get a kick out of arguing with people and they're gonna shout at you and try to own you and you know, you can draw that kind of polite boundary, but certainly in the form they presently turn up in, there's probably no particular point in talking to them. And then that's gonna be the kind of ideal case of a person who is genuinely well intentioned and a wonderful person. They just have a fundamentally different view from you. And you can sit down and have this very civil, I know you don't like that word conversation in which you philosophically explore your differences. A lot of situations might be a little bit more personal, right? So you might have within, let's say a Jewish family, deep disagreements about how to think about Israel, Palestine, you know, between people who in general you think of as people you love, who you think are good people. But when it comes to politics, perhaps the passions fly high. Or to name another example, you know, within a more left leaning friend group, there might be very fundamental disagreements between people who are more on the kind of quote unquote trans rights side of the debate, and people who are quote unquote terfs, who you know, want to defend the importance and the relevance in a lot of social contexts of biological sex. Again, that might be a context where you have some generalized social trust, right? You're part of a friend group. You in general think that the members of it are decent people. But the moment it comes with political issue, there can be a lot of bullying, there can be a lot of saying, if you're not on board with my particular view on trans things, when you're a bigot and a bad person, then nobody should speak to you. So how do you suggest that people maneuver in those kind of contexts?
A
I believe that Step number one is to ask yourself a deeply honest question. And the question is, why would I want to be in this interaction? Is it because I want to make a statement, or do I also want to make a difference? If you want to make a statement, hey, that's your right. We're still in a free enough country where you can do that. But in that case, you're not going to be giving the other person or other people any incentive to hear you, because all you're there to do is stamp your foot. If you also want to make a difference, then that's going to influence how you show up. And that's where, you know, some of the skills that I've just talked about come in. And you can start off the conversation by saying to the other, I know how passionate you are about this issue. And turns out I am, too. That's why we're, you know, we're conversing about it. But here's what else I know. I know that you are so much more than just this issue. So I have no right to reduce you to just this one conversation. I can't judge who you are and all that you are based on it. And I won't judge. Then comes the kicker. Can you remember the same about me? Unless that person is a sociopath, not only will they agree to remember the same about you, and by the way, that becomes a common rule of engagement that you can come back to at any point in the conversation, but they will also, much more often than not, they will also be breathing a quiet sigh of relief. And that's because we humans, we fear one thing more than death itself, and that is judgment for which we have not signed up. Now, if you're an Olympian, you signed up to be judged. But if you're in conversation with someone, especially a friend, you haven't signed up for that. And this is why the word mortified is so important to remember. You know, Yasha being European, that mortified comes from the French word death, right? When we're mortified, we die a death inside. And that's why judgment that has not been chosen by us, has not been invited by us, is so scarring. So reassure the other person or people that you're not here to judge them and watch what happens.
B
I mostly agree with that. I guess the one concern I have is that there's a whole political infrastructure to turn people who are not sociopaths into very judgmental people, right? There's a whole set of ideological superstructure that tells you unless you have the same view as I do. On this particular conflict in the Middle east, unless you have the same view as I do on how to think about the definition of a woman, you are a terrible person who wants people to die, who wants suffering. And in that kind of context, when that is echoed in certain media, when in a whole social circle it's made clear that anybody who doesn't get on board with a particular view might be communicated from it. People who are the opposite of sociopaths, who just want to get along with their lives and not lose their friend group and be able to have a standing in the profession that they chose, which may be, you know, a profession that is more left coded, perhaps it's within an artistic community or something like that, they're gonna say, well, unless I do judge people in that way, right? Unless the moment that somebody shows that they don't have the right orthodox view of this within my community, I'm no longer gonna talk to them and I'm gonna expel them and I'm gonna treat them like a contamination. I myself might be expelled. And that's, you know, and there, this sort of, what this intellectual or ideological superstructure is doing is to use a lot of our pro social instincts, a lot of our desire to be in communion with people, a lot of our fear of social isolation against us in order to incentivize us to become these sociopaths who are blind to the humanity of this one individual dissenter, blind to the noble instincts of this one person who happens to have a different view from us, whether they're right or wrong. Because that's what it takes to preserve our ability to be in communion with everybody else in our friendship group, with everybody else in our family, with everybody else in our community, whatever context it may be.
A
I hear you. And it's at moments like this, in dilemmas like this, that asking sincere questions comes in really handy. So, for example, Yasha, if you know, I am the dissenter and you are the person who is trying to enforce a particular orthodoxy within the friend group, I should have no compunction about asking you, do you ever worry about being canceled and letting the conversation unfold regardless of what the other person says, there's another question to be asked. And by the way, because you are coming from that place of inquiry rather than inquisition, you're setting the culture of the conversation, you are allowing for more wiggle room. And in that case, again, you should be absolutely confident in saying, I do worry about being canceled. Would you ever do that to me and let the conversation continue from there? People don't realize this, I think, but when you choose vulnerability, rather than having it imposed upon you when you choose actually doesn't come off as weakness. It comes off as strength. And the kind of strength that is not arrogant. So let yourself go there. You'll find that it often, if not almost always disarms those who come to the conversation wanting to weaponize. And by the way, if and when they do weaponize, your chosen vulnerability comes back to what we talked about just a few minutes ago. Let them know that you've offered up as much respect as you know how. You're not sensing any of it coming back to you. So when they're ready to offer it up, let's pick it up where we're leaving it off. You've used your agency to set those parameters, and now the ball of accountability is in the disrespectful person's court.
B
Thank you so much for listening to this preview of my conversation with Ershad Manji. To listen to the rest of this conversation, please support this podcast. Please make it possible for us to hold these kind of conversations. Please become a paying subscriber by going to yashamunk.substack.com that is dashamunk substack.
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Com.
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Thank you so much for listening to the Good Fight. Lots of listeners have been spreading the word about this show. If you two have been enjoying the podcast, please be liked. Rate the show on itunes, tell your friends all about it, share it on Facebook or Twitter. And finally, please mail suggestions for great guests or comments about the show to goodfightpodmail.com that's goodfightpodmail. Com.
A
This recording carries a Creative Commons 4.0 International License. Thanks to Silent Partner for their song Chess Pieces.
Episode: Irshad Manji on Understanding Each Other in Turbulent Times
Host: Yascha Mounk
Guest: Irshad Manji
Date: June 28, 2025
In this episode, Yascha Mounk interviews Irshad Manji—author, founder of the Moral Courage Project, and veteran participant in contentious public discourse—about fostering genuine dialogue and empathy across deep divides in an era of heightened political polarization. Manji shares her optimism about America’s social fabric, contrasts it with her Canadian upbringing, and offers practical strategies for engaging with others without sacrificing one’s convictions. The conversation dives into why and how individuals can stand their ground while creating common ground, especially in fractious times.
[02:25–05:48]
Manji, a recent U.S. citizen, describes receiving condolences from American friends (“Are you sure you want to do this?”) and congratulations from Canadians, underscoring shifting perceptions and rising Canadian confidence.
She expresses deep appreciation for American generosity and kindness, observed while traveling the country:
“I find the people here infinitely more generous, outgoing, relational, kind than I do in just about any other country, including the one that I gratefully was raised in—Canada.” —Irshad Manji [03:48]
Mounk, himself naturalized, notes his enduring optimism about America’s ability to maintain a diverse democracy and points to evidence that ethnic and racial voting blocs are weakening.
[05:48–08:37]
[08:37–10:08]
Mounk questions whether day-to-day kindness can ultimately overcome destructive political forces, referencing post-Yugoslav conflict as a cautionary tale.
“Perhaps the day-to-day kindness of people … can coexist with political anger … with the willingness to tear down a system … with the determination to remake your country in ways that can turn out to have very bad consequences.” —Yascha Mounk [09:36]
Manji agrees on the complexity and unpredictability of social systems, reinforcing the idea that human agency and context shape outcomes.
[10:08–12:59]
Manji insists that individuals still hold meaningful agency within their contexts:
“We can take charge of our own dispositions and thereby deepen trust or alleviate distrust in our own environment.” —Irshad Manji [11:32]
She champions “relational leadership”—entering conversations with curiosity, not judgment, to keep dialogues open and constructive.
[12:03–16:19]
The discussion pivots to practical approaches for bridging divides without sacrificing authenticity. Manji advocates the “both/and” approach:
“You can stand your ground and create common ground.” —Irshad Manji [13:04]
She discourages hollow affirmations (“I hear you”) and urges genuine listening coupled with gratitude—“Thank you because…”—as a habit.
Manji challenges the idea that civility is the goal, framing effectiveness in communication as more important than “niceness”:
“It’s not about being civil. I don’t like that word, by the way. It’s not about being nice. It’s about being an effective communicator.” —Irshad Manji [15:44]
[16:19–19:20]
Mounk voices concerns about leaders who “revel in antagonizing,” asking how to engage—or not engage—with bad-faith actors.
Manji responds:
“Don’t assume that everybody is a narcissist, a sociopath, or a conflict entrepreneur.” —Irshad Manji [17:35]
She suggests offering respect, but if it’s unreciprocated, explicitly but politely pausing the conversation and putting the onus of accountability on the other:
“Let’s just pick up where we left off once you’re ready to show me that respect.” —Irshad Manji [18:41]
[19:20–24:13]
Mounk explores deeper emotional and social dynamics when polarization occurs within families or close friend groups—over Israel-Palestine, trans rights, and other polarizing issues.
Manji counsels an honest self-inquiry:
“Ask yourself a deeply honest question: Why would I want to be in this interaction? Is it because I want to make a statement, or do I also want to make a difference?” —Irshad Manji [21:16]
She advises making it explicit that one’s counterpart is “so much more than just this issue,” and directly requesting if they can extend the same courtesy.
[24:13–28:35]
Mounk expresses concern over ideological climates that pressure people to judge and exclude dissenters for social survival.
Manji recommends vulnerability and sincere questioning as tools to gently challenge the orthodoxy:
“Do you ever worry about being canceled?” —Irshad Manji [26:37]
She emphasizes that choosing vulnerability is a mark of strength that can disarm defensiveness, and reiterates the value of setting respectful boundaries when reciprocation is lacking.
On American generosity:
“I find the people here infinitely more generous, outgoing, relational, kind than I do in just about any other country…” —Irshad Manji [03:48]
On agency:
“We can take charge of our own dispositions and thereby deepen trust or alleviate distrust in our own environment.” —Irshad Manji [11:32]
On dialogue:
“Stand your ground and create common ground.” —Irshad Manji [13:04]
On setting conversation boundaries:
“Let’s just pick up where we left off once you’re ready to show me that respect.” —Irshad Manji [18:41]
On authenticity in fraught discussions:
“Why would I want to be in this interaction? Is it because I want to make a statement, or do I also want to make a difference?” —Irshad Manji [21:16]
On selected vulnerability:
“When you choose vulnerability, rather than have it imposed on you, it doesn’t come off as weakness. It comes off as strength.” —Irshad Manji [27:03]
Irshad Manji urges listeners not to lose faith in everyday agency and relational leadership, especially when societal polarization seems overwhelming. By combining honest self-reflection, genuine inquiry, expressions of gratitude, and clear but non-punitive boundaries, individuals can foster more resilient and humane dialogues—within both the public square and personal circles—even amid the temptations of tribalism and certitude. As she puts it, the path is not about being “civil” for its own sake, but about being effective and courageous in communication.