Nilson Ariel Espino is a cultural anthropologist, architect, and urban planner with a background deeply rooted in examining the intersections of culture, politics, and identity. In our increasingly polarized context, his new book “Conversations with the Turtles: On the Ideological Conundrums of Our Times”, challenges the conventional left-versus-right framework, revealing how opposing groups often have a lot more in common than you might think – and how that commonality could be the true root of conflict itself.
Ariel explores the conflicting values and tensions within society that drive issues like inequality, political instability, and environmental crises. Conversations with the Turtles invites us to see these conflicts not as irreconcilable divides, but as interconnected challenges rooted in shared struggles.
We spoke with Ariel about the tensions that inspired his book, the potential for empathy amid deep divisions, and implications for changemakers striving to make a positive impact in polarized times.
Ariel is a Fellow in the Central America Leadership Initiative and a member of the Aspen Global Leadership Network.
Your thesis suggests that conflict comes from commonalities, not differences. In a world facing challenges that impact us all – like climate change, pandemics, and personal safety – how can we begin to acknowledge that our shared struggles are the root of conflict?
Indeed, one of my main arguments (inspired partially by the work of René Girard) is that conflicts are the result of converging desires and interests. We fight because we want the same thing as our opponents, not because we’re different from them. This stands in contrast to the common argument that sees the world’s conflicts as the inevitable result of its diversity.
It is when we agree with our opponent that conflict ensues, and this agreement is what both unites and separates us. I think the first step is to acknowledge this. When faced with a conflict, our first task is to look for the thing that both parties want, not to look for the differences between them. The world is full of differences, but not all differences produce conflict. Why? Because it is not the differences that produce the conflict, but the similarities. This is true at the personal level too. At the social level, the things people fight for are the usual suspects — power, money, self-determination, territory, social influence or esteem.
As half the world’s population heads to the voting booth this year, how can the philosophical frameworks you reference—like Marx’s concept of power, Illich’s conviviality, and Adam Smith’s role in modern libertarianism—help us make sense of our current, polarized political climate?
In the book, I explain that all societies, all cultures, have contradictions built into them. Global modern culture (fashioned on the convergence of capitalism, liberalism, and science) has its particular contradictions and paradoxes, which are then reflected in the ideological schools that dominate the public square. I argue that cultural paradoxes cannot be solved, only managed. Successful societies are not the ones that have solved their contradictions, but rather those that have found a way of managing them effectively.
Marxism, libertarianism, and other popular political ideologies illuminate certain aspects of modern dilemmas, and also conceal what they cannot account for. We have to take all of them seriously, and at the same time be aware of their incompleteness. People that are looking for magical solutions in particular political ideologies are playing a dangerous game, one that inevitably ends in more intolerance and repression.
You keenly pointed out that to “empathize would require one to negotiate”; that seeing “the other” as someone more like “the self” would demand a humanist approach. How can someone embrace empathy in an increasingly polarized world so focused on difference? How could this be applied to conflicts on a large scale?
When I acknowledge that my opponent and I want the same thing, I open myself up to empathy and identification with my opponent. In the end, I realize, we are not very different. This forces me to negotiate, because how can I now not accept my opponent’s demands if they mirror mine? I am forced to admit that those demands are legitimate.
Usually, of course, we don’t want to do this. If I don’t want to give anything up, the last thing I’m going to do is admit that we are similar in any way. We then emphasize our differences, which, as explained before, have very little to do with the conflict. The emphasizing of differences works as a defense mechanism, as a smokescreen. We argue irreconcilable differences, incompatible worldviews, clashing religious views, and so on. We demonize our opponents, and declare them the incarnation of evil. And, of course, you cannot negotiate with evil; you can only eliminate it. Through this canny mechanism we get to retain the moral high ground and not cede anything.
You reference Aesop’s fable of the “sour grapes” to explain how hate can mirror desire. How can we communicate the idea that what people may reject or hate is often what they deeply want, especially in today’s charged environment?
Aesop’s Sour Grapes fable illustrates the psychological defense mechanism known as “reaction formation.” We desire something and cannot get it, and react by declaring our hate for it. The fox cannot reach the grapes it wants, so argues that they were sour grapes anyway. The wrinkle is, of course, that we still desire the inaccessible object; we’re just compensating by flipping our position. This is a very common mechanism in conflicts. We envy what our opponent has, but we present ourselves as wanting the opposite. We radically distinguish ourselves from our opponents, when deep down we want to emulate them.
Some people’s sense of identity and purpose are completely dependent on their opponents. Antagonizing our opponents is what gives our life meaning and coherence. We present ourselves as the opposite of our opponents, when in fact we’re trapped with them in a dynamic of mutual definition.
You end the book discussing practical policy implications of viewing conflict as rooted in commonality rather than difference. Can you share your suggestions?
One of my reflections relates to the need for modern societies to constitute “realms of equality.” In capitalist societies, everything tends to be reduced to competition, with the spoils going to the stronger players. If people across society share no common services, goods, activities or spaces, social fissures are going to be very difficult to deal with. Welfare State policies and programs can have a key role here, especially when they’re designed with a universalist perspective and with very high standards. I criticize government programs targeted exclusively to the “poor,” which are very common in my part of the world, because they are invariably stigmatizing.
If society decides that every citizen has a right to something (such as health care or a basic education), then it must provide it to everyone, and at a level of excellence that reflect that society’s image of itself as a solidary people with common interests and standards. I know it is fashionable these days to talk about the demise of the Welfare State, but something has to provide a sense of a common destiny and purpose, and I can’t think of another candidate for the moment. The market certainly can’t do it.
How might changemakers apply these frameworks to drive positive impact in their work?
I hope my book can help people be more perceptive and less simplistic about the nature of social conflict at any scale, and perhaps open the door to more peaceful societies. I also hope to provide some productive ideas on how to fashion public policy in ways that ameliorate conflicts but preserve the capacity of societies to be dynamic and creative.
You describe striving for a “better” world as an evolving pursuit, where the finish line keeps moving. How can changemakers and communities stay resilient and motivated, knowing they may never fully reach that “ideal” “utopian” future?
Modern societies are intrinsically forward-looking. We see it in the pervasive ideologies of “progress” and the discourses about “development.” We’re always moving (supposedly) towards a more perfect state. This is a peculiar way of imagining the world. Other societies in the past strived for a previously determined perfect form, or saw time as circular, with a paradise that was always returning, rather than waiting for us at the end. Modern societies guide themselves with ideal and utopian images that function as lodestars. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with this, but we need to be cognizant that all social models are partial and repressive, including our “ideal” ones. All cultures have outsiders and are contradictory, as I said earlier. This is where we can revisit the topic of differences.
I defend cultural differences as a source of attachment, rather than of conflicts. We enjoy life by living in a specific way, and this in no way precludes others in enjoying life in their own way too. This demands a practice of cultivation, rather than of competition. We cultivate our lifestyles, our particular cultures, in the way making them evolve and thrive. These cultures then serve as templates of the good life, even if they are as selective as all the rest. We can defend these models not because they’re perfect or better, but because they’re ours and we enjoy them.
You’re a part of the Aspen Global Leadership Network as a Central America Leadership Initiative Fellow. The AGLN and its Fellowships support leaders from various walks of life in their commitment to a journey of impact over the course of their lives. How do you see this book and your thesis contributing to the positive change you aim to create in the world?
My fellow Fellows work in a great variety of projects and advance a number of incredibly important causes. I have nothing but admiration for them. I believe my ideas can help frame the challenges they face in a more productive way. We’re all dealing with social conflicts and public policy choices. I do hope they can benefit from the contributions of a particularly nerdy colleague.
About the Central America Leadership Initiative (CALI)
The Central America Leadership Initiative (CALI) was founded in 2004 with the support of the Aspen Institute, INCAE Business School, the Fundación Empresarial para la Acción Social, and the nonprofit organization TechnoServe. They are a network of over 380 leaders who undergo a two-year program to enhance members’ vision and leadership skills, with the goal of driving economic and social progress in Central America. CALI is a part of the Aspen Global Leadership Network. For more information, visit califoundation.org
About the Aspen Global Leadership Network (AGLN)
The AGLN is a growing, worldwide community of nearly 4,000 high-integrity, entrepreneurial leaders from over 60 countries who share a commitment to enlightened leadership and to using their creativity, energy, and resources to tackle the foremost societal challenges of our times. Because of their demonstrated accomplishments and abilities, they have been selected to join one of 13 geographic or sector-specific AGLN Fellowships around the world. For more information, visit aspeninstitute.org/agln.
