Agreeing to disagree is often framed as a sign of mutual respect and acknowledgment of differing opinions. At a young age, we’re told that if we have nothing nice to say, don’t say it at all, teaching us that it’s better to be agreeable than difficult. But where’s the line when disagreements move from harmless opinions to fundamental human rights? Is there a point when agreeing to disagree shifts from respect to complicity?

There are countless scenarios where agreeing to disagree not only helps with acceptance but is essential for maintaining relationships. Disagreeing over whether pineapple belongs on pizza isn’t charged with ethical or moral weight. When the disagreements are trivial and lighthearted opinions, there are no hard feelings. Agreeing to disagree can even help relationships flourish through subjective debates.

This kind of disagreement simply reflects our personal preferences. In many relationships, agreeing to disagree initiates peace, fostering coexistence and mutual respect.

However, when the disagreement transitions from harmless preferences to moral dilemmas or human rights, the stakes abruptly shift. Agreeing to disagree becomes a precarious excuse — a silence that often preserves comfort over conscience. It’s seen as a tool for harmony, but in these situations, it is peace forged at the cost of the outspoken. This is where the line must be drawn.

The “agree to disagree” perspective stems from an inherently privileged view by those who aren’t affected by the issues at hand, giving them grounds to absolve themselves from the social and civic responsibility of debate. Under Donald Trump’s current presidency, a directive issued to the Executive Office for Immigration Review ordered judges to fast-track asylum cases by denying asylum seekers a hearing altogether, potentially trampling the constitutional right to due process.

Shayna Kessler, director of the Advancing Universal Representation initiative at the Vera Institute of Justice, said, “It’s about slamming shut the courthouse door on people who have the right to seek asylum and a fair day in court.” Posing an agreement to disagree on the matter of someone’s right to exist in this country, be heard and access a judge is no longer an opinion, it’s point-blank avoidance and a lack of acknowledgement.

Disagreement over matters like due process isn’t based on neutrality; it’s a deliberate detachment and diversion from fundamental issues. In these conversations, there’s an emotional labor imbalance, forcing the person whose rights are on the line to defend their humanity while also staying calm. When a person has never been in a position where their Fifth Amendment rights were at risk, a neutral stance is easy to take, especially because humans do not like disagreement.

In a 2021 Yale study, neurologist Joy Hirsch discusses how “There is a synchronicity between the brains when we agree … But when we disagree, the neural coupling disconnects.” The lack of neural connection creates a natural sense of discomfort when we disagree, an emotion many of us are afraid of.

Neurologically, our brains have to do more work to disagree with someone. We avoid disagreement to avoid discomfort. Our political backgrounds often shape confirmation bias that reinforces only our prior beliefs and our willingness to engage in disagreements. This discomfort is often the price we pay for meaningful engagement and for speaking up for the things we believe in.

But disagreement, when handled correctly, can initiate necessary, reasoned debate. Joshua P. Miller, a political science professor at the University of North Carolina, notes, “Plato demonstrates how reasonable conflicts can sustain democratic regimes by engaging citizens in mutually beneficial but difficult discussions.”

When approached with worthwhile intention, disagreement and taking the time to debate are the basis for democracy and an important form of civic engagement. Disagreement isn’t always division, but an allegiance to your beliefs.

The vision to live in a world where we can agree to disagree and remain friends is an unrealistic utopia. When deciding to agree to disagree on someone’s humanity or mere existence in the world, it becomes a cop-out. Difficult conversations can be valuable.

Brushing past the discomfort of disagreement can often lead to resentment, but neutrality is not always better. Disagreement can often be the right thing; it’s democratic and principled. The end goal is not to fight every battle, but to remember the ones that matter too much to walk away from.

Julia Bragg can be reached at [email protected].