A Conversation with … Jay Nordlinger, the Writer Who Sees Both Sides

An old word seems to be surfacing with greater frequency in a new context. The old word is “sectarianism,” and the new context is the domestic politics of the world’s mature democracies, including that of the United States [2-4]. Democracies, of course, have always involved parties that disagree and even at times behave antagonistically. But sectarianism is deeper and bloodier than political antagonism. It feels tribal, and it sometimes gets violent. Think Northern Ireland in the second half of the 20^th century, or the American Civil War (which is still known to some persistent sectarians as “The War of Northern Aggression”).

Political sectarianism hinges on three main beliefs: That the other is qualitatively different or alien from oneself, that the other is neither likeable nor trustworthy, and that the other is not merely wrong but also iniquitous [4]. In countries that are fundamentally at peace, reasonably prosperous, and capable of transitioning political power nonviolently, surely there is no basis for any of those beliefs, and maintaining them cannot possibly be helpful.

No, you did not accidentally pick up this month’s American Spectator or Mother Jones. That said, this month’s guest in “A Conversation with…” does write for an unabashedly political publication, but he covers politics and world affairs, and he does so with great empathy toward those with whom he does not agree [8].

Not coincidentally, and more importantly, while I’ve never seen him write about medicine or science, the open-mindedness he conveys in his columns has made me a better surgeon and a better reader of scientific journals.

Meet Jay Nordlinger, writer, journalist, and regular columnist for The National Review. Mr. Nordlinger’s magazine was founded by William F. Buckley Jr., and of itself since that founding, it writes, “The magazine has since defined the modern conservative movement and enjoys the broadest allegiance among American conservatives” [6]. But Mr. Nordlinger’s column, “Impromptus,” is deeply humane and overtly empathic. He seeks connections in every direction despite being in a publication whose mission is almost uniquely unidirectional [1]. More than any columnist whom I follow, he’s able to see things from the other person’s side. He also sees the soft spots in the arguments on both sides, and points them out with a modest, curious, courteous delivery that encourages—at least in me—introspection.

Jay Nordlinger

He also writes with erudition and sensitivity about music, visual art, and literature [7, 9], and draws themes from those sources into essays about the here-and-now that I make time to read. Those essays transit, pleasurably, from intellectual neighborhood to intellectual neighborhood, as a flaneur would on a spring day’s walk. Although he writes political and social commentary, his work comes across to me more like short-form nonfiction, something in the family of a more-accessible WG Sebald (think The Rings of Saturn) or Teju Cole (in Open City). The reader strolls alongside an articulate, thoughtful, open-minded guide and is happy just to listen.

Listening and looking for things one doesn’t expect to hear or see is becoming a lost art in political discourse, but the basic skill—to take it all in before reacting—is foundational for a good surgeon, particularly one who wants to help people heal and not merely to cure. And cultivating an openness to ideas, maybe even those ideas that are at odds with what we thought we knew, is key for readers of surgical journals and for those who want their practices to improve as new approaches appear, undergo evaluation, and grow or wither under the light of empiric scrutiny.

I also believe that there is a connection between the humanities and being humane, and that physicians who are open to that connection—that is, to using narrative medicine in their practices—have one more good tool in their kits [5]. Writers, like Mr. Nordlinger, who use narratives of all kinds (literary, musical, visual art) to help us work through real-world themes, can help us to become more effective at that.

In short, a dose of Jay Nordlinger can help surgeons take better care of their patients, get more out of what they read, and perhaps even envision a world where everyone is just a bit more caring toward one another.

And besides, his stuff is just great reading.

Join me in the conversation that follows to learn how Mr. Nordlinger, the man who sees both sides, is able to do so, so very effectively.

Seth S. Leopold MD: How do you cultivate your openness to ideas that, at first, seem at odds with your own?

Jay Nordlinger: Dr. Leopold, I can’t say I really know. I think of the Golden Rule. I myself want to be listened to (most of the time). And if I expect it from others, or want it from others—shouldn’t I offer it to them?

Also, I have learned over the years that you can always learn something from people who are knowledgeable, experienced, or sincere—with sincerity being of utmost importance.

One more thing: If you want to refute something, you’d better understand it. You’d better have a solid understanding of your own views and the views you’re at odds with.

Dr. Leopold: Can you share an example of an idea that at first seemed wrong, but in time, you came around on it, and how you got there?

Mr. Nordlinger: When I was coming of age, I was leery of the free market and thought that government intervention was equal to compassion. I thought that business—commerce—was kind of disrespectable. Grubby. But a combination of reading and experience—looking at the world—let me know that a free economy, and an open society, is a great lifter up of people (flawed as any system, or way of life, may be).

Recently, I have come to believe that racism—lingering racism—is a bigger problem in our country than I once knew. People reveal themselves through social media and the like. (A friend of mine, Professor Barbara J. Fields, the historian of the U.S., calls social media “the anti-social media.”)

I had thought that the United States was relatively immune—let me stress “relatively”—to the tribalism and “identity politics” that afflict other countries. I have had to rethink that, unfortunately. I think of the expression “sadder but wiser.”

Dr. Leopold: Journalists spend a lot of time listening; so do good physicians. But so much of communication is non-verbal, conveyed with metaphor, and occurs “between the lines.” The same happens in a doctor’s office, when, let’s say a patient may be talking about a problem with his hand, but thinking about—and not necessarily expressing directly—how his physical problem will affect his livelihood or even how it strikes at his personal identity. What helps you to hear between the lines?

Mr. Nordlinger: I think you have to want to—that’s the beginning of it. You have to want to hear, and to understand. You have to be alert to what the person is saying (and not saying). Also, you can ask questions—gently, artfully. Or very, very bluntly. Often, people want things drawn out of them. You may hit a gusher with the right question or questions.

Also, people are, as a rule, interesting. I love something that Bill Buckley used to say. He did not come up with this saying, but he quoted it: “Ninety-nine out of every hundred people are interesting, and so is the hundredth, for he is the exception.”

A final point: The more you listen to people—the more people you interview, the more patients you see—the better you get at it, I feel sure. You develop a bank of experience upon which to draw.

Dr. Leopold: Your column is, fundamentally, about politics and society. Why do you come back so often to music and the arts? How might our understanding of music, literature, or visual art clarify the stories you write about or deepen the ability of readers to connect with them?

Mr. Nordlinger: I think you write what you’re interested in. You write what’s on your mind. And the arts, especially music, are very important to me. All politics and no play makes Jack (or Jay) a dull boy. I like to taste as much of life as I can. The more well-rounded you are, the better you may be in your field.

Years ago, Professor David Herbert Donald—another U.S. historian—had a tip for his students if they wanted to improve their writing: Watch Fred Astaire dance. Note his lines.

Also, the richer one’s mental life, the more useful one is apt to be to other people, right?

Dr. Leopold: What do you wish more doctors knew?

Mr. Nordlinger: I wouldn’t presume to say! I have the highest respect for those engaged in the healing arts. There are doctors, I know, who take care to offer mental and moral encouragement to the extent possible. That must be of great value to patients.