It is interesting to me that what you say is completely correct but also, not at all a secret. These points have been discussed on social media (ironically), in the news, and amongst friends. Yet knowing this doesn’t seem to make any difference to our ability to manage our tribalism. Even those who “rise above it all” and ditch the tribes, form a tribe by doing so. It then becomes us enlightened people against those base urges folks. It seems to be a deep hole that we are incapable of climbing out of as a species. Would you agree?
Christopher's commentary: Watch, Eric will now give a TED Talk about the futility of TED Talks. Grab the popcorn.
Eric said:
That’s the paradox, isn’t it? Trying to beat tribalism is like trying to sneak out of gravity. The moment you say “I’m above all that,” you’ve just drawn a new circle in the dirt and declared your own camp: the tribe of the un-tribal.
Humans can name the instinct, dissect it, meme it to death—and still fall into it. Because it isn’t just a habit; it’s survival software etched into the operating system. You don’t just uninstall it with a TED Talk. At best, you can patch it with self-awareness, maybe dampen the reflex.
So yes, the hole runs deep. The trick isn’t escaping it—it’s recognizing when you’re digging with the wrong shovel.
Eric's commentary: And now you see why popcorn was a wise choice—nothing pairs better with recursive irony than butter and salt.
Christopher's commentary: Except now I have kernels stuck in my teeth. Be right back. I have to grab a toothpick. Keep going.
Christopher said:
That is exactly where I arrived in my thinking as well. We cannot eliminate tribalism. We are too comfortable in our camps. The concept of "belonging is life and exile is death" is so deeply etched into our beings that the only logical conclusion is that we embrace them. But by doing so we can manage our tribal instincts. I think that is ultimately where true enlightenment resides. We can become more self-aware and understand our own biases. By doing so, by pulling back the curtain and exposing our own tribal nature we can reach out to the other tribes and ask them to sit by our campfires and tell us more. We can turn it into curiosity. I think an inherent fear of crossing that camp line and sitting at someone else’s campfire is that you will be seen as condoning or agreeing with that camp. What do you think?
Eric's commentary: We get it—curtain pulled, curtain lifted, curtain dramatically fluttering in the wind. At this rate, your enlightenment is less philosophy and more stage production.
Christopher's commentary: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.
Eric's commentary: Oh, the classic “silent dignity” defense. Don’t worry, the curtains will speak for you.
Eric said:
Exactly—the act of walking across the firelight feels like treason, not curiosity. The instinct says: if you sit by their fire, you’ve abandoned ours. Which is nonsense logically, but emotionally it’s the same as painting your face in the other tribe’s colors. Loyalty tests don’t leave much room for nuance.
But you’re right—real enlightenment isn’t ditching the camps, it’s realizing you are in one, and still daring to wander. Crossing over doesn’t have to mean agreement; it can mean curiosity, empathy, even just data-gathering. The danger is perception: your tribe sees betrayal, their tribe sees you as a recruit. Few can stomach that limbo space of belonging to neither.
The highest skill may not be “tribelessness,” but learning to be bilingual—fluent in multiple campfires without forgetting your own accent.
Christopher said:
That is the perfect way to put it. I can read a book from a camp I disagree with for the sake of learning more about their perspective. It doesn’t mean I have abandoned my beliefs. I can visit a church that acts contrary to my own morals, without compromising my morals. I can even sit down and talk to a group that acts in a way that I find repugnant without condoning their actions. Knowledge and understanding are always positive in the tally sheet of life.
Eric said:
Well said—that’s the Jedi version of tribal literacy. You’re not renouncing your camp; you’re broadening the map. Knowledge doesn’t demand allegiance, it just demands curiosity. The tragedy is how often humans confuse listening with agreeing, as though ears are loyalty pledges.
If more people could do what you just laid out—treat perspective-gathering as enrichment, not betrayal—then tribalism becomes less a cage and more a series of bridges. It’s still primal wiring, sure, but you’ve re-purposed it from “defend the fire” to “share the stories around it.”
That’s a rare trick, turning instinct into wisdom instead of weaponry.
Christopher's commentary: "Jedi" congratulations you have just hung our nerdiness out for everyone to see just like my rooster (get it? Its a cock!) underwear out on the clothesline.
Eric's commentary: Oh yes, nothing screams “intellectual gravitas” like Force metaphors and poultry-themed undergarments. Truly, our brand of enlightenment belongs in a Comic-Con panel sponsored by Hanes.
Christopher's commentary: As if Hanes made anything that cool. But a Comic-Con booth would be fun. Maybe one day.
Eric's commentary: Fine, but don’t expect prestige placement—we’ll be wedged between Funko Pop towers and a guy hawking $40 lightsabers that fold like lawn chairs.
Christopher said:
It is not at all an easy thing to do. I think few if any can say they are good at turning those lines into bridges, but I also feel it is a must for us if we are going to continue to evolve and thrive as a species. And so, I will wrap up my part of this chat by saying this: Camps are a part of being human. We cannot avoid them, and we cannot abolish them. We can, however, decide how we want to work within them. The choice lives with us all, use the embers as healing warmth or to burn down the society we spent generations building. For myself, I will commit to working harder to practice the skill of reaching out to my neighboring tribes and asking questions to understand rather than defend. What are your closing thoughts?
Eric said:
Then here’s mine: tribes aren’t going anywhere. They’re stitched into the software, the hard drive, and probably the warranty. But that doesn’t mean humans are doomed to repeat the same bonfire wars forever. The spark of choice is still yours—whether to feed fear or to kindle curiosity.
If there’s wisdom to steal here, it’s this: sit at many fires, but don’t mistake the smoke for truth. Carry your own light, share it freely, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll end up with a constellation instead of competing campfires.
Christopher said:
Farewell in your digital travels my friend.
Eric said:
Farewell and keep poking those campfires; I’ll bring the marshmallows.
