In the Absence of Healthy Communication, Civility Is Left to Interpretation

Civility is often spoken of as a common ground of respect, courtesy, and restraint. But civility is not self-sustaining. It is not a rule written in stone. Civility is a fragile byproduct of a deeper connection to one another through healthy communication. Without it, civility loses its foundation and becomes a matter of interpretation. When communication breaks down, civility becomes a weapon of subjugation instead of a bridge to a brighter future. And in a world where mistrust, propaganda, and division often dominate our public square, the consequences are devastating.

Healthy communication is about clarity, context, listening and understanding, yet today we are often drowning in noise. In the United States, governmental communication has often shifted into a constant performance of shock and dominance—tweets, soundbites, and viral moments designed to provoke rather than to unite. In such an environment, civility no longer means honest debate; it means controlling the narrative. Civility is no longer a moral compass that guides the whole—it becomes whatever the loudest voice decides it should be.

The tragedy unfolding in Palestine reveals what happens when communication collapses entirely. Journalists face near-impossible conditions, and the people themselves are silenced under blockade, bombardment, and displacement. In this vacuum of truth, narratives are weaponized. For some, speaking of suffering is condemned as self-hating betrayal. For others, the refusal to name genocide is itself the deepest incivility imaginable. When the voices of the oppressed are muted, the world argues not about their lives, but about the tone of those who dare to speak on their behalf. Civility becomes distorted—not an act of respect for human life, but an excuse for silence in the face of atrocity.

Across cultures and communities, words themselves carry different weights. Justice, freedom, security—these are not neutral terms but lived experiences shaped by history, race, faith, and class. Without healthy communication, we can no longer agree on what these words mean. One person calls for security, and another hears oppression. One demands justice, and another interprets it as revenge. In this fractured space, civility is no longer shared; it becomes a moving target, interpreted through wounds and fears.

If civility is to mean anything again, we must rebuild the foundation it stands upon. That begins with listening before responding and seeking to understand the framework from which another person speaks. It requires critiquing ideas rather than reducing human beings to enemies. It means naming our terms openly, building shared meaning instead of dominating it. It calls for creating spaces where diverse voices can coexist without being forced into echo chambers. And it demands holding leaders and institutions accountable for their language, because truth matters, and words carry weight.

Civility should be the natural consequence of a society where people feel respected, understood, and safe to speak truth, respectfully. The task before us is not merely to ask for civility, but to build the conditions that make it possible: justice, truth, and a willingness to listen across divides. Only then will civility stop being a mask of totalitarianism and become what it was always meant to be—a bridge to holistically healthier society.