The DCI Blog

By Owen Brent-Levenstein ’27 (DCI Fellow)

During my spring D-team meeting on the opioid crisis, the group of nine community members and students were clearly eager to start deliberating. Before we could get started, I had to remind everyone that to start, we had to read over the conversation agreements. While reading over the conversation agreements is no one’s favorite part of a deliberation, it plays an important role. By making everyone formally acknowledge that they were agreeing to these norms, the participants felt a responsibility to uphold them, and kept the conversation agreements in mind throughout the deliberation. The participants ended up getting what they signed up for, a civil discussion on an important topic troubling our country. 

Unfortunately, the majority of deliberation does not happen under these ideal conditions. Whether it is debating with friends about the NBA Finals or arguing with family members over contentious political issues, disagreements often occur in unmediated spaces. Most of the time, people do not agree to disagree civilly, follow a certain set of norms, or allow a facilitator to step in when conversation gets overly contentious. 

While our facilitator training can be useful when facilitating DCI events, when working with people who are not accustomed to the norms of proper deliberation, it can be a struggle to help conversation stay productive and civil. Furthermore, in everyday conversation and debate there is no facilitator to lean on, and people have not already agreed defer to you as the person who will keep the conversation civil and on track. Reminding a family member to “approach fellow deliberators’ stories, experiences, and arguments with curiosity, not hostility” will likely not lead to tremendous results. Thus, it is crucial that we find ways of impacting and deepening everyday conversations outside of our formal deliberation techniques. 

To do so, I believe that leading by example is crucial. While there may not be an allotted time for everyone to read through conversation norms before a disagreement, by modeling productive deliberative behavior, one can strengthen a conversation. Instead of telling others that they need to be more respectful in deliberation, it is crucial that we put our money where our mouth is and do the work ourselves. While it is easy to point out what you think others are doing poorly, making a real effort to be as productive and respectful as possible takes real work, and will likely garner the respect of others. 

If one can commit to being respectful of differing opinions, not talking over others, taking other people’s arguments at their highest, looking for common ground, and accepting that winning an argument isn’t the goal, it’s coming to a mutual understanding, then others are more likely to follow suit. When a member of a conversation is incredibly respectful, it becomes uncomfortable for people to be disrespectful and illuminates others’ unproductive behavior. 

While leading by example may not always be enough, it is the best place to start. It changes one’s role from being a facilitator of a deliberation to being a model deliberator in a conversation. By ensuring you exemplify the behavior you want to see from others, you can practice what you preach and ensure that even without the formal constraints of a DCI deliberation, everyday disagreements go as smoothly as possible.

By Bosisso Charles Takougnadi (TBC) ’27

Usually, we see deliberation as a practice based on mutual respect, critical thinking, and open dialogue. Yet how we engage in deliberation and how we view it can differ quite a lot from one generation to the next. As a DCI Fellow, I’ve learned that talking with both younger and older people comes with its own set of challenges and opportunities. When we recognize these differences as aspects of our identities, we can build more inclusive spaces to deliberate. To what extent do generational differences create a gap during discussions involving two or more generations?

To start off, contrasting methods of discussion are one way to achieve an effective deliberation. In my experience this year (which I fully acknowledge is limited and anecdotal), both young and old participants in a deliberation demonstrate two recurring patterns. Young people generally like having a more direct approach that is solution-oriented. This was common during my D Team meetings that I facilitated, as I observed very quick and short points and responses from young people aiming to reach a resolution and action plan. 

The older folks tended to make longer contributions to the conversation, giving, or requesting in the form of questions, a lot of information sometimes less directly relevant to the discussion. They valued taking their time, deep thinking, and a more ordered way of doing things. Not that younger people do not have similar values, but they seemed to exhibit them less often. I noted that while young people might prefer direct responses and be willing to shift the paradigm (although not always), older people often insist on how much past events and ways of doing things matter. 

Neither approach is necessarily better, but these differences can cause friction when people discuss contentious issues. I have seen older people asking younger participants (generally students) to explain their points further when the younger people thought they were clear enough. In a couple of instances, I noticed how older people in my group discussions can be more likely to directly confront other participants about their views. This made some of the younger people uncomfortable and upset. 

Dealing with contentious issues in cross-generational discussions can therefore be particularly challenging. For some young people, being direct and focusing on the present is vital to getting one’s point across in the room. Older people, on the other hand, often preferred a more experience-based analysis of the issue. When people of different ages come together, young folk sometimes feel ignored if others don’t agree with their ideas. Meanwhile, older people might think others don’t value the insights they have gained in their lives enough. 

Our approaches to addressing issues also shape how well we are received during a conversation. Young people often see conversations as a way to push for fast social change. But older people might be more careful thinking about long-term effects and consequences, taking into consideration their own experiences. This difference in how urgent things seem to different groups of people can make it feel like two separate talks are happening instead of one big conversation. 

Nonetheless, discussions between different age groups can be helpful. Older generations bring opinions based on decades of life experience that can be combined with the new ideas and paradigms that are popular with younger generations. One good way to bring generations together is to make sure everyone listens well so each person feels heard and valued.

Along these lines, the DCI Fellows Program taught me that adaptability represents the essential element for effective deliberation. Allowing generational differences to partially shape our discussions is necessary for a good deliberation. It will enhance understanding of one another and enable us to have meaningful dialogues. New ways of thinking emerge from younger generations while older generations provide experiential knowledge and historical depth. The process of deliberation must remain free from exclusive ownership by specific groups or engagement techniques. 

By recognizing generational differences as an aspect of people’s identities, we create opportunities for these differences to become valuable conversational topics. The evolution of future deliberative processes hinges upon our capacity to acquire knowledge from one another across divides, and particularly generational divides. Through patient and respectful dialogue combined with openness to new ideas, we need to develop a deliberative culture that empowers individuals of all ages to participate actively in deliberative democracy.

By Alyssa Henke ’26 (DCI Fellow)

Deliberation is often seen as something that belongs primarily to the social sciences. It involves engaging with ideas, weighing evidence, and reflecting on how different perspectives shape our understanding of the world. However, as someone majoring in both political science and mathematics, I have often found myself wondering: can deliberation also play a meaningful role in STEM?

For a long time, it didn’t seem that way. In my political science courses at Davidson, deliberation was everywhere. We debated complex issues, analyzed competing viewpoints, and explored how identity, policy, and institutions interact. These conversations were relevant, rooted in our experiences and knowledge about the world around us. My voice felt important in political science.

On the other hand, mathematics felt more rigid. My time was spent solving problems, proving theorems, and searching for precise answers. There was little room for personal reflection or discussions about how the subject connects to real-world experiences. It felt like there was no room for deliberation in math.

That perspective shifted when one of my professors introduced me to Living Proof, a book filled with personal stories from mathematicians around the world. These excerpts shared struggles, moments of doubt, and stories of perseverance. They revealed how deeply personal mathematics can be. These individuals brought their identities into their work, challenging stereotypical ideas that math is purely objective and separate from the human experience.

One of the most powerful messages in this book was that mathematics is not just about numbers of symbols; it is about people. Who we are, where we come from, and what we experience all shape how we approach math, why we study it, and how we see ourselves in the field. Social and political forces, access to education, and cultural norms all influence the work being done in STEM.

Deliberation is not limited to academic debate or policy discussions. It also means asking hard questions about inclusion, equity, and purpose in fields like mathematics. Who has access to these spaces? What values are prioritized? Whose stories are told and whose are ignored? At the end of the day, it is these people, shaped by their own individual experiences, who are doing the math.

When we recognize these dynamics, we open the door for STEM fields to grow not only in knowledge but in compassion. Reflection and critical dialogue help create spaces where diverse voices are heard, and where people feel like they belong. This kind of openness fosters collaboration, encouraging people from different backgrounds and experiences to work together and learn from one another. Just as political science encourages us to consider different viewpoints and question systems of power, math can also benefit from thoughtful engagement with the world around it.

Deliberation taught me how to think critically and empathetically in political science. Living Proof reminded me that these same skills belong in mathematics. They belong in every field. When we bring reflection, dialogue, and humanity into STEM, we do not just make better science or math. We build a community and a better world.