Myopic Divisiveness: A Plea for Clarity in an Age of Polarization

“Democrats are a bunch of snowflakes or Antifa.”

“Republicans are all neo-Nazis.”

“Israel has a right to defend itself at any cost.”

“Palestine will be free.”

“Russians are an aggressive cancer that must be dealt with.”

“Ukrainians are an aggressive cancer that must be dealt with.”

Everyone puts on their blinders when Myopic Divisiveness takes hold

Have I managed to alienate everyone yet?

What we are witnessing—in society, in our communities, and across the globe—is something I refer to as myopic divisiveness. It is a reflexive, deeply ingrained instinct that arises when we feel threatened, unheard, or wronged. We simplify complex issues, shut down opposing views, and construct echo chambers that distort our understanding of others and ourselves. Myopic divisiveness is not merely disagreement—it is a narrowing of perspective that transforms disagreement into dehumanization.

Understanding the Concept

What is myopic divisiveness? It is the gradual constriction of our moral and intellectual field of vision. Rather than seeing people in their full complexity, we reduce them to symbols of perceived opposition. We adopt a binary worldview where nuance is discarded, and anyone who doesn’t fully align with “our side” is treated as a threat—or worse, as subhuman. This impulse is exacerbated by fear, reinforced by social media, and perpetuated by bad-faith actors who gain from division.

I began to sense the contours of this phenomenon after the 2008 U.S. presidential election, when Barack Obama defeated John McCain. According to the Southern Poverty Law Center, white supremacist groups surged by an estimated 48% following Obama’s victory. Extremists from David Duke to Jeff Schoep saw Obama’s presidency as a rallying cry to recruit and radicalize. The fact that a Black man had become the most powerful individual in the world didn’t lead to introspection among these groups—it fueled their delusions of persecution.

I recall speaking with educated, accomplished white professionals who were genuinely concerned that Obama’s presidency would mean retribution against white Americans. They asked me, candidly, if they should withdraw their savings from banks or prepare for racial retaliation. Their fears, though unfounded, were real to them—shaped by a media ecosystem that fostered suspicion and distrust. I did my best to respond with empathy, humor, and perspective, but those conversations stayed with me. They revealed just how potent—and corrosive—myopic divisiveness can be.

From Ukraine to Gaza: Global Echoes of a Narrow Lens

This divisiveness isn’t limited to the U.S. It resurfaced with brutal clarity during Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Each side sought to dehumanize the other; disinformation campaigns turned civilians into pawns, and moral complexity was replaced with slogans and allegiances. The same pattern holds true in the heartbreaking Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Yes, the October 7 attacks on innocent Israeli civilians were horrific. Yes, the loss of over 50,000 Palestinian lives—many of them women and children—is unconscionable. But what troubles me most is how quickly so many have retreated into hardened camps, unable—or unwilling—to mourn the suffering of anyone outside their circle of identity.

People I know and respect—Jewish Americans, Israelis, Palestinian Christians, Palestinian Muslims—grapple with pain, rage, and loss. Yet too often, grief becomes siloed. Suffering becomes a competition. Myopic divisiveness convinces us that empathy for the “other side” is betrayal, rather than a necessary step toward justice and peace.

The lens narrows. The blinders go up. Our stories become single-issue, self-contained, and detached from the lived realities of others. And with that, we lose the ability to listen, to learn, and to heal.

The Domestic Front: Political Tribalism and the Death of Dialogue

Here at home, the problem is no less acute. Americans are turning on one another with alarming fervor. Whether it’s over race, politics, religion, or public health, we’ve lost the thread of shared humanity. I hear the frustrations on all sides—I do. I’ve listened to the “but what abouts,” the grievances, the justifications. But at a certain point, we must ask: to what end?

We’ve allowed myopic divisiveness to morph into a cultural cancer. It metastasizes through social media, cable news, and even our personal relationships. It teaches us to attack, not inquire; to assert, not understand. We are not merely disagreeing anymore—we are dismantling our ability to co-exist.

Let me be clear: I am not calling for false equivalence. I am not suggesting we ignore extremists or gloss over injustice. I’m not promoting toxic positivity or pretending that everything is fine. What I am advocating for is clarity without cruelty, conviction without contempt. Myopic divisiveness is seductive because it validates our pain and aligns us with like-minded allies. But that comfort comes at the cost of our collective capacity for growth and reconciliation.

A Modest Plea

So, what do we do?

We take off the blinders. Not because doing so will solve every conflict or erase every historical wrong, but because it’s the only way to begin seeing each other fully again. We must resist the pull of reductionism. We must refuse to let our humanity be dictated by tribal identity.

Be the person who reads outside your usual news sources. Be the one who can hold two truths at once—that you can support justice for Palestinians and condemn terrorism; that you can value security for Israelis and criticize militarism. Be the one who defies the echo chamber.

Let us reclaim the courage to listen, to feel uncomfortable, and to remain open-hearted—even when it’s easier to shut down. In an age of noise, certainty, and outrage, empathy is a radical act.