Negotiating the Bridge (Bridge-building 4)

Postcard Circa 1930.

I have recently been driving across what Wikipedia says was “the longest and highest cantilever bridge in the United States” at the time that it was opened…nearly 85 years ago (March 29, 1930). Just so that you know, crossing bridges makes me a little bit nervous… especially when I find out how old they are! This particular bridge was designed by Joseph Strauss, who was the engineer of the Golden Gate Bridge so it has that in its favor. Counting approaches it is 8,192 feet long with its longest span reaching 1200 feet 210 feet above the river below. The designers claimed that any vessel then in existence, including a fully rigged clipper ship, could pass under it successfully. I agree it is a very tall bridge! Can you guess where it is?

Golden Gate Bridge in the fog.

Over the last year, I have written several times on the subject of bridge building. I have used the metaphor to introduce posts on the need to engage others cross-culturally (Bridge-Building In A Chaotic World), to take time to do adequate and authentic listening as an indispensable phase of construction (Bridge-Building 2: "Relational Impact Studies") where we prove that we “can be trusted to safely treasure the story, needs, and longings of others” or if we skip this step, “our efforts a bridge-building will be seen more as an invasion and occupation rather than an authentic connection.” And finally, I wrote about how building well includes a consideration of behavioral tolerances at points where we don’t agree (Bridge-Building 3: Tolerances & Tighteners, Gaps & Grips). I wrote, “Finding common points of agreement or meeting places is important if we are going to build effective bridges.” But, after so much water under the metaphorical bridge, what about working towards agreement on beliefs not merely on behaviors?

Can we continue to be authentic in our beliefs while fully listening to the beliefs of others? If we think that this is unacceptable for us to do, then certainly we cannot expect their attitude to be any different. If we hope to apply diplomacy to the areas of faith and culture we need to learn to negotiate differently than what we might see from a tourist haggling with a bazaar merchant over the price and quality of a samovar.  

“Whether a negotiation concerns a contract, a family quarrel, or a peace settlement among nations, people routinely engage in positional bargaining. Each side takes a position, argues for it, and makes concessions to reach a compromise.”[1]

We are generally faced with one of two negotiating tactics—hard or soft—and neither produces a solution that is best for both parties. In Getting To Yes, Fisher, Ury, and Patton describe these approaches.

The soft negotiator wants to avoid personal conflict and so makes concessions readily to reach [an] agreement. He or she wants an amicable resolution; yet often ends up exploited and feeling bitter.

The hard negotiator sees any situation as a contest of wills in which the side that takes the more extreme position and holds out longer fares better. He or she wants to win; yet often ends up producing an equally hard response that exhausts the negotiator and his or her resources and harms the relationship with the other side.[2]

If negotiation was only to choose between these two flawed outcomes then there would be very little hope for Christian diplomacy.

There is a third way to negotiate, a way neither hard nor soft, but rather both hard and soft. The method of principled negotiation developed at the Harvard Negotiation Project is to decide issues on their merits rather than through a haggling process focused on what each side says it will and won’t do. It suggests that you look for mutual gains whenever possible, and that where your interests conflict, you should insist that the result be based on some fair standards independent of the will of either side. The method of principled negotiation is hard on the merits, and soft on the people.[3]

The bridge which I mentioned earlier was only built after long negotiations at the local, state, and national levels. It was opposed by the city of Portland (50 miles away) because they thought that it would negatively impact shipping via the river and their collection of tolls on their own bridge. Once the designers successfully made arguments at the State and Federal levels that what they were building was high enough that shipping wouldn’t be hindered the project was cleared to proceed. At this point, it would seem that most interests of all parties involved were met, with the exception of determining the exact location on the Oregon side.

When practicing diplomacy in a multi-faith context, we would do well to make use of the four main elements of principled negotiation. We may be able to do more, but we should not do less.

People: Separate the people from the problem.

Interests: Focus on interests, not positions.

Options: Invent multiple options looking for mutual gains before deciding what to do.

Criteria: Insist that the result be based on some objective standard.[4]

What do you think? Do these approaches fit into a Christian approach to engaging the world? Would following such guidelines serve to lower the polarizing rhetoric and truly work for the common good?

Looking to the Northeast into Washington

Sometimes we have to slow the push for our own agenda in order to achieve the best results for everyone. By the way, the original speed limit on the Lewis and Clark Bridge was 20 MPH and currently remains at a moderate 35 MPH. I find that plenty fast enough…if you want to negotiate the bridge and enjoy the view a little longer!

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[1] Fisher, Roger; Ury, William L.; Patton, Bruce (2011-05-03). Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In (Kindle Locations 344-346). Penguin Group US. Kindle Edition.

[2] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 318-322).

[3] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 323-327).

[4] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 499-506).

Bridge-Building 3: Tolerances & Tighteners, Gaps & Grips

This post is an assigned in response to a 2012 post by Paul Louis Metzger entitled “Beyond Tolerance to Tenacious Love”

Much has been written about cultural tolerance and intolerance in the last 20 years. It is surprising that tolerance has almost come to mean intolerance. In relational terms, tolerance is what we call it when we can converse, and even work together, civilly, despite the fact that we have very different beliefs and values. Finding common points of agreement or safe meeting places is important if we are going to build effective bridges.

Unfortunately, in a tidal wave of political correctness, what was once tolerance (disagreeing civilly) has been twisted to require agreement with the current anti-conservative (politics), anti-Christian (religion), and anti-traditional values (morality) agenda and not speaking or advocating for anything that disagrees with it. I am a fan of the original definition and dismayed by the controlling influences of the second. Relational intolerance is when we can’t have a normal, civil, human, conversation with those who disagree with some position, belief, or behavior we hold dear. If those in power are intolerant they will tend to compel those who disagree to agree—using any methodology and coercive force available to them. This behavior is not relational at all.

In terms of physical bridge-building, the word “tolerance” has a number of different applications. Members meeting together atop a pier are to fit together according to the tolerance standards for the materials. With steel construction, gaps of more than 1/16 of an inch need to be shimmed and filled. Translating this metaphor of bridge-building tolerance into relational and cultural terms, “Tolerance and intolerance,” as Paul Louis Metzger suggests, “do not function as properties of beliefs but of behaviors. If tolerance were to be framed as a matter of acceptance of another person's (or tradition’s) belief system, then anyone who rejects my belief system as true would be intolerant.” However, that doesn't mean we can’t work out a protocol for how we can meet and work together. But we might need to drive slowly!

On the Southwest side of Portland, there is a bridge—a flyover exit ramp—connecting I-5 and Highway 217 that was notorious for traffic accidents related to a variety of tolerance issues. One such issue was the gap in the joint between two sections.

According to a May 2014 article by Joseph Rose on the Oregonian’s website, “The transportation agency [ODOT] said the road joint that is gradually splitting apart had likely contributed to more than a dozen crashes in three weeks. The teeth of the huge metal seam are popping up and may be tripping up the tires on vehicles traveling faster than the 35 mph advisory speed, especially in rainy weather, ODOT said.”[1]

As you can tell from the photo, the joint is not only separating but is not the same height. 

 Note ground-down fingers.

One of the things ODOT did to alleviate the problem besides posting warning signs for people to slow from freeway speeds to 35 mph, was to grind down the fingers on the high side of the joint. 

Finally, ODOT worked to increase the surface friction to prevent cars from losing traction when the road was wet. As Joseph Rose writes,

Because ODOT's friction tester is down for maintenance, we had Washington DOT perform testing with their equipment," said ODOT pavement management engineer John Coplantz in an email to managers. Tests on the deck seal showed it was losing its grip, with some readings showing it was below acceptable "friction values."

"These numbers by themselves do not necessarily represent an unsafe condition," Coplantz wrote. "However, roadway geometry, vehicle speeds, and driver expectations place a high demand on surface friction at this location."[2]

Just as bridge joints can shift and spread under load, it seems that the same things often happen in our relational/cultural bridge-building. We start to pull apart at the joints instead of clinging to each other and the road with the “tenacious love” Paul Louis Metzger speaks of. How wide are our gaps? How strong is our grip? The warning of wisdom tells us to slow down, watch the road, and let the bond of God's love keep us from pulling away and/or elevating ourselves above each other when we are under stress. We are in need of both care and compassion if we hope to begin and maintain a conversation in the midst of a culture that has forgotten how. While we can and should be able to entertain a thought without accepting it, as Aristotle suggests, we shouldn't treat people like that. 

[Ironically, this “intolerant” bridge is about three miles down the road from a neighborhood called, Metzger, Oregon.]

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[1] http://www.oregonlive.com/commuting/index.ssf/2014/05/oregon_217_ramp_crashes_odot_w.html>

[2] Ibid.

Bridge-Building 2: "Relational Impact Studies"

[This is a sequel to a previous post, entitled Bridge-building in A Chaotic World.] 

Bridge-building with other cultures and people from other religious backgrounds must start with asking a few questions and then taking time to really listen. What is their story? Who are their family? What brings them joy or sadness? What is their direction, their goal that they are seeking? What are some of the most deeply held values that assist them in their life journey? I am also interested in their impressions of Christianity and Christians prior to this time and what has formed those opinions.

If we don’t ask and then sit quietly to listen over coffee or tea how will we know where to start building a bridge or if it is necessary? Perhaps there are strong bridge members already in place that need to be identified. There are a couple of things we can do that will sabotage the pre-building process. The first thing is to treat the listening process as a means to a unilaterally desired end. As impatient task-oriented Westerners, we often want to cut through the relational ceremony and get down to business. But what if the other person considers the relational ceremony as a business?

A second thing we can do that will render the listening stage non-relational is if we are listening only as a means to know what to say in response. Many years ago I used to view a conversation like a chess match and would be thinking at least a couple of responses ahead. I swore it off as violating one of my core values, that of hearing and being heard. People can tell the difference between a dialogue and a disguised monologue so we need to stop fooling ourselves.

While individualism is rooted in interests, personhood is tied to relationships. If we are going to have a relationship then we must fully listen to one another without feeling the compulsion to rebut, correct, fix, or persuade them to another point of view. Certainly, that may come as we acknowledge our respective convictions, but it must not be the purpose of our “listening.”

As I mentioned in a previous post when building a bridge the builders need to pick the right site, materials, and design. Similarly, if I don’t make myself teachable to those I am trying to connect then the relational "bridge" will in some way fail to deliver that which it promises. If we can’t be trusted to safely treasure the story, needs, and longings of others then our efforts at bridge-building will be seen more as an invasion and an occupation rather than an authentic connection.

My late father was a wildlife biologist and wetlands scientist who made his living doing environmental impact studies that must occur before any major construction project. It seems to me that the listening phase of bridge-building is somehow like a relational environmental impact study.

How can I learn what God is already doing in a person’s life if I don’t take time to sit and listen and watch? How can we assess how our efforts to “help” may actually hinder if we don’t listen to the still small voice of the Lord amidst our relentless pressing forward with our projects? I recently sat with a businessman who confessed to being a terrible listener and being bothered by that flaw. He was right. He was loud, opinionated, and more interested in what he had to say than what I was saying. But at least he was honest about the prevailing winds in his relationships and how they would affect any bridge-building in his life. He also desired to change and had opened his life to be mentored in this area.

Some have grown cynical from the too frequent “public meetings” hosted by our elected officials where they never seem to really care what the public says unless it agrees with what leaders have already made up their minds to do. Has the world grown cynical towards our Christian efforts at bridge-building because we don’t listen (or are perceived not to listen)? I don't want to contribute to such impressions.

Photo by Kayle Kaupanger on Unsplash

If these concepts resonate with you, Multnomah Biblical Seminary offers both a MA in Applied Theology and a Doctor of Ministry degree that incorporates such issues of cross-cultural engagement. This post is a sample of something that was initially written as a class assignment for that program. I invite you to check out this bridge-building program as a paradigm for the ministry of God's unchanging love in the midst of this changing world.

Also, a listening-related post that looks at whether God hears our deepest cries can be found in Psalm 22 “Unanswered Call… Answered”.

Bridge-building in a Chaotic World

Tilikum Crossing "The People's Bridge",
a controversial new bridge in Portland, Oregon

Why do we need bridges? So the people can cross over something in their environment that divides them—like a canyon, river, or other body of water. Probably the first thing to be decided in building a bridge is if one is needed and wanted, secondly we need to ask who is going to pay for it. Once these questions have been addressed a bridge builder needs to know something about the forces (loads) that a bridge must withstand.

·         Dead loads that don’t move or change, the weight of the bridge itself.

·         Environmental loads that include hydraulic friction, seismic stability, and wind.

·         Live loads referring to temporary or moving forces (e.g., traffic), etc.

I frankly don’t want someone building a bridge that doesn’t know anything about engineering, geology, local weather, and the needs of the people it is designed to serve. Do you remember the famous debate over the very expensive “bridge to nowhere” in Ketchikan, Alaska? Right here in the Portland metro area, we have the failed Columbia River Crossing (CRC) an effort to build a very expensive bridge without solving a problem, and without the support of the population as an exercise in a government’s agenda being forced on the people. Thankfully it has been stopped, but approximately $240M of the people’s money was wasted on this project.

Obviously, my question isn’t really about building physical bridges but about building relational bridges, bridges of understanding, forgiveness, and reconciliation between individuals, groups, races, and nations. So why talk about the engineering of physical bridges? Because many of the same issues come into play when trying to metaphorically "build bridges" between people(s).  

As we build relational bridges, we first must ask if a bridge is needed. Bridges should not be built any further than they are wanted. Having a bridge spanning our defensive separation is scary if we don’t fully trust those people on the other side. If we seek to bring people together then we had better make sure we are not placing one group at a greater risk for oppression (2 Timothy 3:2-5). The bridge must be for the benefit of both parties.

Building a bridge also takes time. A physical bridge not only has to be planned, and built, but it has to be maintained against structural degradation due to the normal stresses of use and environmental stresses from corrosion, freezing, temperature fluctuation, insects, etc. Sometimes bridges cannot safely be crossed quickly. Are relational bridges so different? We all know that relationships take constant work to maintain. So how do we pass on the passion for maintaining relational bridges to the next generation? (2 Timothy 2:1-2).

Bridge-builders also need to be concerned about the safety of those working on the bridge as well as those who will use the bridge in the future. Do we care that some of those working with us might “fall off” during construction? When the Golden Gate Bridge was built in the 1930s they pioneered the use of hard hats and safety nets. Do we have a safety net in place for our relational bridge-builders that is at least as effective as when the Golden Gate Bridge was constructed? Or, are co-builders merely commodities to be used up, expendable resources before the overarching goal of completing the task?

Tragic bridge collapses in recent years cause me to warn against bridges being built too quickly on the unstable soil of assumption and misunderstandings. Recently, newly constructed highway bridge columns had to be blown up after it was discovered that they were built on unstable ground. Without measuring the cultural distance that needs to be spanned, doing the seismic mapping of past offenses, and completing the site preparation of building trust, the bridge is doomed to fall beneath the weight of the forces arrayed against it. When building relational bridges we need to count the cost as well. Is this bridge worth the cost it takes to build, or does it lead nowhere? (2 Timothy 2:23) Do we evaluate the process and participants on a worldly level or according to the metrics of Christ? (1 Samuel 16:7; 2 Cor. 5:16-17) Jesus, the ultimate bridge-builder, became one of us and completed the task not by force of power or decree of authority, but by the humble giving of himself to save others. Our calling is to follow his uncomfortable example in showing reconciling love for others.

I will explore some of these questions in future posts. I welcome your comments along the way. In the meantime, Ephesians 4:31-32 gives us a great place to start building, preparing to be safe, bridge-worthy people that others would welcome into their neighborhood. “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

Golden Gate Bridge in Fog