How my brother and I began talking about our political differences
Do you have a beloved friend or family member, but political differences make it hard to connect? Would you like to move past that tension—not by avoiding it, but by understanding each other better?”
I adore my brother. He’s always seeking a deeper understanding of why things are the way they are and to discover the right way to live. He shares what he’s learning with anyone who will listen. He greets everyone with an open smile; two of my girlfriends even confessed they had a crush on him.
But in early 2021, our dynamic got tense.
The Night Our Connection Glitched
It was a cold winter night at my parents’ cabin on the Kansas plains. Dane and I were in the cozy loft. We’d always relished long talks about philosophy, health, and politics. But that night, our conversation quickly escalated.
He began passionately explaining things he’d been learning about COVID. I listened. “Governor Cuomo misled New Yorkers about the number of COVID deaths. Most deaths are in nursing homes. And most people have co-morbidities, so it’s oversimplifying to say they died of COVID.” I tried to engage, “Even if there are co-morbidities, people are dying sooner than they would have.” He pushed back, “Kristin, do you really believe that?”
He told me more of what he’d been reading. He critiqued the sources I’d been reading. As his intensity increased, my diaphragm tightened.
After nearly 30 minutes, I grew quiet. Then I snapped (admittedly, not my best moment!). “You’re acting like you know best, and I’m an idiot. You’re putting down my sources. You aren’t open to me challenging your thinking. You’re acting like an asshole! If you want to influence someone to change their mind, learn to be curious about their thinking. I feel pummeled by your endless stream of facts and disdain. If this is how you are going to engage in these kinds of conversations, I’m out!”
Our mom, downstairs, could overhear our argument. Poking her head up, she said, “Kristin, I think you need to calm down.” Me?! Had she not heard how Dane had been haranguing me for the past hour?
Lying awake that night, I felt angry, sad, and confused. How had we gone from laughing at dinner to shouting across a divide? As I often do when unsettled, I began to journal. And then I saw it: we were trapped in the Drama Triangle.
I felt such relief. I regularly used the Drama Triangle with clients to help them disengage from unhealthy dynamics; In a stroke of "Duh", I realized, "Of course, this powerful tool can also help me in my relationship with my family. And I felt confident that if we could all see that we were in a well-known dysfunctional pattern, we likely could start to shift it.
The Drama Triangle:
The Script We Don’t Realize
We’re Acting Out
The Drama Triangle is a well-known pattern of dysfunctional interaction that brings out the worst in us and makes it hard to move forward together. Psychologist Stephen Karpman developed the Drama Triangle to explain what makes stories so compelling — and relationships so exhausting.
Anyone can switch roles in seconds. And each of us may play all three roles in a single conversation.
That night, my brother started as the Rescuer — sincerely wanting to “help” me see what he saw: that COVID could be treated less expensively and more effectively by Ivermectin than by ventilators. When I didn’t agree, citing studies, he unconsciously became the Villain, chastising me for buying into "big pharma propaganda." I felt like the Victim, powerless to argue effectively. Then I lashed out, flipping into Villain. My mom then jumped in as the Rescuer of my brother.
The triangle may be mesmerizing in movies. But in real human relationships, it’s painful.
Naming the Pattern
Opened Up New Possibilities
Over coffee the next morning, I sketched the Drama Triangle on a piece of paper. “This,” I told my brother and mom, “is what happened last night.” They stared at the sketch. Then we laughed. My brother said, “Wow. This perfectly describes what we did. And what I do!”
“I often try to ‘rescue’ people by sharing what I know to help them do/be better fill-in-the-blank.” Teasing himself, he continued, “I believe I’m right. So I feel an obligation.” Then, sheepishly, “But I don’t have a great track record of changing minds.”
I said, “When I get quiet, it means that it has stopped feeling like a conversation, and just feels like a monologue or a debate. I just want to leave. And the quieter I get, the harder you try to convince me.”
The drama triangle is seductive. Each role offers emotional payoffs: the Rescuer feels needed, the Victim feels innocent, the Villain feels right.
But we pay a price: disconnection, exhaustion, and often replaying arguments ad nauseam.
To escape the Drama Triangle, we first must notice and name it. Then we can choose a better script.
The Transformation Triangle:
A Healthier Dynamic
On my piece of paper, I crossed out “Drama” and wrote “Transformation.” Briefly, I explained to my mom and brother how David Emerald reframed Karpman’s Drama Triangle into what he calls The Empowerment (or Transformation) Triangle.
The Transformation Triangle uses the same energy — but channels it toward growth.
I’ve learned that when we are aware, we can shift the dynamic quickly. Sometimes it just takes a few deep breaths and a commitment to engage in a new way.
That weekend, Dane and I made a deal: he’d notice when he started to “pummel” me with his words and intensity, and I’d speak up before I felt the urge to attack him. We set some ground rules to help us stay out of the drama triangle (e.g., to start by asking if the other wants to hear our opinion, to listen to understand rather than to try to “win,” and to slow down if things get heated).
We didn’t change each other’s minds about the COVID vaccine. But we restored something more important: curiosity, affection, and a willingness to use shared tools so we can get better at listening to each other across differences.
I invite you to notice when you are in the Drama Triangle and experiment with doing a “Take Two” to shift the roles to the Transformation Triangle.
Building the Skill to
Better Connect With Our Beloveds
In my professional life coaching executive teams, I help them transform conflict into opportunities for learning, becoming smarter together, and deepening relationships. Recently, in my personal life, I’ve started using these same tools (including, but not limited to, the Drama Triangle) to stay in conversation with my family about topics we care deeply about. Bringing a little awareness to our conversations has helped us increase our skills and sense of safety, and thus the likelihood of having constructive conversations across differences.
Given the current political climate, many people feel the stakes are too high to risk talking with our beloveds on opposite sides of hot-button social and political issues. We want to maintain the relationship, even if it is a narrow band of relating, even if we feel misunderstood by them or don’t understand them.
I get it. That’s a reasonable strategy—at least in the short term, and on a micro level.
But I wonder: If we can’t talk about what really matters with the people we love, then how can we ever hope to heal the divides tearing at our country?
What if we could learn to talk about hot-button issues in ways that build understanding, strengthen relationships, and grow empathy—and then help our friends in our bubble do the same?
An Invitation
My brother Dane and I are collaborating on a passion project: “Reconnecting with Our Beloveds Across Political Divides.”
It’s a free, six-week online pilot workshop - one night a week for an hour and a half - for those who’ve given up on talking about charged political issues or world views with a loved one — but haven’t given up on each other.
Together, we will:
Grieve the loss of easy connection.
Learn tools for engaging in courageous, constructive conversation.
Practice staying open when it’s hard.
Let’s learn to move from drama to dialogue — and from division to deeper connection.
I invite you to join us for the workshop:
Learn more about the course here!