The Spirit of Dialogue in a Digital Age

By Marie-Ève Marchand

We do not lack platforms to communicate or venues to hold political debates, but we seem to sorely miss the time and space to think together. Whether with friends, neighbors or people from different cultural or religious groups, we rarely take the time to explore our basic assumptions and perceptions. Such explorations, however, allow us to bett

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dialogue Publications Ltd
• Release date: Aug 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781916191228

Book preview

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Preface

Introduction

Part One

SIX INVITATIONS TO CULTIVATE

THE SPIRIT OF DIALOGUE

First invitation:

Accept that we are all related

Second invitation:

Listen with your whole being

Third invitation:

Suspend assumptions

Fourth invitation:

Question with warmth and curiosity

Fifth invitation:

Honour the power of words and of silence

Sixth invitation:

Co-create new meaning

Part Two

THREE TYPES OF DIALOGUE:

ONE SPIRIT

Inner dialogue

One-on-one dialogue

Group dialogue

Part Three

David Bohm’s vision

The characteristics of Bohm’s dialogue

How group dialogue works

What helps or hinders dialogue

Bohm’s dialogue in organizations

Three testimonials

Conclusion

Appendix

Bibliography

Acknowledgements

This book is the fruit of many years of study and practice aimed at understanding what constitutes authentic dialogue, as well as the qualities that are essential for dialogue to take place. I am grateful to the colleagues with whom, over the years, I have explored various forms of dialogue, such as group dialogue and one-on-one dialogue in helping relationships. I am particularly thankful to the professionals who have dedicated their lives to promoting group dialogue and embodying the vision of the scientist and thinker David Bohm.

In that regard, I would like to thank wholeheartedly Peter Garrett, the director of the Academy of Professional Dialogue as well as Cliff Penwell, the editor of Dialogue Publications, for their continuing commitment to dialogue and their support of my work. I thank them for making it possible to share my reflections on dialogue with English-speaking readers. I am also grateful to the translator, Signy Glendinning, for her careful approach to this work and, in particular, for her capacity to translate in a manner that feels very much in harmony with the way I express myself.

I would like to express my appreciation for those who supported me in the production of the original version in French, namely Lucie Dumoulin, Ako Millette, Yolande Brouillard, Danielle Legentil, Serge Marquis, André Baril of the Presses de l’Université Laval, as well as my husband, Jean Trépanier. I thank the participants in my ongoing dialogue groups for their willingness to engage in this practice and take time to reflect with me on their experience.

Preface

This morning, a thick fog floats over the river, almost like butter. We cannot tell where water ends and fog begins. Nor can we see the islands or the shoreline across the way. Everything is grey, opaque . . . the fog moves in quickly, swallowing up the last remaining rocks, the birds, the plants and the sand. What was clearly visible a few short hours ago has disappeared.

The foghorns sound. Their song signals a presence. Others are there, somewhere—maybe very near—but we cannot see them. We do not know where they come from, what they look like, what language they speak or what beliefs they hold; whether they are young or old, male or female, gay or heterosexual. We know nothing, but we share the experience of fog and a sense of danger. Our instruments enter into a dialogue, allowing us to approach one another without colliding, avoiding capsize and casualties of all sorts. And we greet the others, we thank them, with characteristic courtesy.

But why use a foghorn in the age of the GPS and other advanced technologies? Because, as the navigators say, even the most modern instruments break down! And we cannot take that risk: we must hear the signal, because we are navigating in the dark.

The foghorn metaphor echoes the message put forth by Marie-Ève Marchand, who invites us to enter into dialogue in order to give meaning to the unknown. I believe that a thick fog is currently settling over our lives, our societies and our nations. It is increasingly difficult to see clearly, both in our own minds and with others. The frame of reference that gives meaning to everyday life is changing, or simply vanishing. Borders, beliefs, institutions, everything is being turned upside down. Nature is going off course. We struggle to distinguish what is true and what is false, because lying is now part of a strategy of communication.

Ultimately, we as human beings are all looking for the same thing: an authentic meeting with oneself and with another, without judgment or the need to defend, where beliefs, assumptions and prejudices of all kinds have been suspended. Whether alone or with others, we walk in the hope of reaching this meeting place. Marie-Ève Marchand has been accompanying people on this journey for several decades. She has chosen the path of dialogue which, with her guidance, becomes a means of developing consciousness. Speaking through her heart and with great finesse and intelligence, the author helps us to discover the art of speaking (and of keeping silent), and how to integrate it into our lives. Her message is convincing: the practice of dialogue produces a tangible experience of being part of a single consciousness. She will leave you eager to experience the creative power of those who seek new perspectives together.

I firmly believe that, within these spaces for dialogue, we will be able to call into question certain suffocating dogmas such as "do more with less." How did we become so obsessed with such an idea? At what cost? And there are many other ethical issues and questions that should be addressed through dialogue rather than debate. The fog is thickening; it is urgent that we pool our intelligence and our hearts. I strongly urge you to read this book in order to better understand the enlightening power of dialogue for both individuals and the collective. It is urgent that we listen to the call of the foghorns.

Serge Marquis

Serge Marquis is a medical doctor who specializes in community health. He has focused on health in the workplace for more than 30 years. He is the author of a Quebec best-seller, Pensouillard le Hamster: Petit traité de décroissance personnelle, published in France under the title On est foutu, on pense trop! His book has been translated into Italian, German and Korean. Serge Marquis is a sought-after speaker in Quebec and in France, appreciated for the wisdom and sense of humour he brings to subjects such as stress and the role that the mind plays in anxiety.

Introduction

Dialogue requires an intense faith in others:

faith in their power to build and

rebuild, create and recreate.¹

– Paolo Freire

With each new generation, voices unite and declare, Times are changing! The philosopher Heraclitus proclaimed this very message some 2500 years ago. When Bob Dylan set the phrase to music in 1964, it seemed truer than ever, though we could not have fathomed the magnitude of the changes to come. Who would have believed that the folk singer, in his iconic denim jacket, would one day win the Nobel Prize in literature? Who foresaw the advent of gender-neutral washrooms, the birth of a new floating continent of plastic debris in the Pacific Ocean, or the invention of an electronic device that would share our intimate information with online voyeurs across the planet? Who could have known that millions of migrants would overwhelm the borders of developed countries in search of their share of the collective wealth, that individuals would deliberately crash an airplane into office towers, or that we would be able to purchase a robot to keep us company?

Whether positive or detrimental, the countless changes of our times multiply the dilemmas with which we are faced. It is useful to reflect upon them, though it is a difficult task in the midst of an overabundance of news, information and opinions, especially when we cannot find time to stop.

Tipping the scales

Several prominent researchers, including the historian Yuval Noah Harari, believe that we may be witnessing the greatest revolution not only in the history of humankind, but in the history of life on earth.² As he points out, there are no adequate comparisons with the previous changing of eras, such as the transition from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. The changes currently under way will transform not only our economic, social and political systems, but also our bodies and minds, since we now have the power to edit our genetic makeup. We are able to create a virtual world that is apparently more real than our immediate environment. This revolution will continue to grow; that is, unless the human species succumbs to an extinction brought on by humans themselves.

In his book Sapiens,³ Harari claims that our current technical and scientific capabilities grant us powers until now reserved for the Gods. Is this hyperbole? He backs up his claims with credible arguments, explaining that we will soon be able to artificially create living beings and reinvent our own bodies and brains. Humans will merge with machines to reach extraordinary levels of performance. Advances in these fields are already spectacular, and they bring a slew of ethical questions. The very definition of what it means to be human is changing; the very nature of our humanity is being called into question. The transformation is under way, and it is urgent that we talk about it together.

Certain pessimists, including a number of scientists, predict the collapse of the planet’s main ecosystems by the end of this century. They claim that such a disaster will be brought on by the denial and greed of those claiming to be among the most evolved beings on the planet.

Others see true hope for humanity in the collapse of capitalism and the development of technology. The economist Jeremy Rifkin⁴ is among those who has welcomed the decline of the younger generation’s obsession with possessing things, coupled with the significant gains being made in the area of renewable energy. The prominent Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard⁵ believes that, before long, the magnitude of the dangers we face will reach such nightmarish levels that we will recognize the inevitable necessity to embrace selflessness and cooperation in order to save the world. And, he adds, we will do so joyfully, because such is the fundamental nature of the human heart. Along the same lines, the 2018 documentary Earth: Seen from the Heart, featuring astrophysicist Hubert Reeves, provides a clear portrait of the situation as well as of initiatives across the globe designed to tip the scales in favour of life.

Between these two trajectories, I believe that we can, both individually and collectively, set a course toward the more optimistic outlook. Through our words and actions, we can participate in the co-creation of a world in which collaboration and respect for differences will replace competition and rivalry. One of the first steps: learning to speak differently—one to another, group-to-group, and even to ourselves. The issues confronting us today require that we approach and reflect on them as a group, not as individuals in opposition. And everyone can enter into dialogue; even children, when invited into dialogue, surprise adults with their wisdom.⁶

Life’s big questions, such as Who am I? Who are others? and Why I am here on Earth? have been the focus of philosophers for millennia. There is nothing new about religious and political groups clashing over these fundamental questions. Today, however, such reflection is no longer only the domain of the educated class. People of all walks of life want to be part of the conversation. We have the technical means to speak to one another, but our now-customary instant communications are a barrier to deeper sharing. True reflection is not acheived through text messaging or merely hitting the like button on social media, but rather through taking the time to meet with others in all their humanity—not simply in a battle of ideas, such as in a discussion.

Discussion or dialogue?

For those with a Western education, forms of interchange such as criticism, argumentation and confrontation are perceived as highly valued processes. We are taught that when there are two or more opposing stances, the best way to reach an informed position is through argumentation. It is true that disciplined argumentation is a great improvement over the nasty debates we often witness on the political stage. However, discussion—even skillful discussion—does not shed light on all aspects of a problem, since it uses only rational intelligence, while a full investigation requires that we include other perspectives perceived through our senses, emotional intelligence, interpersonal intelligence, intrapersonal intelligence (self-awareness) and intuition. For a deeper understanding, we must engage with each other differently, as shown in the etymological sense of the Latin word conversere: to turn toward one another, rather than to seek truth or meaning by pitting one against the other. In lieu of discussion, (etymologically, the word discussere means to separate through force), we can choose to enter