Many conflicts seem less divisive if familiar, binary frameworks are set aside—if they are instead viewed in terms of “equilibriums” and “limits.”

On abortion, for instance, we tend to think in polarized binaries such as “pro-choice” versus “pro-life” or “secular liberal” versus “religious conservative.” But the abortion debate encompasses tens of millions of people whose views fall at various points in between a total ban and zero restrictions. Some believe access to abortion is too restricted in some states and favor relaxed rules. That is, they favor shifting the equilibrium in a “pro-choice” direction. But ask some of those same people “Should there be any limits on legal abortion?” and they might advocate a limit: that the procedure should be banned in the last trimester of pregnancy unless the mother’s health is seriously threatened.

Whether such a person, who shares significant value judgments with both poles, is seen or sees themselves as “pro-life” or “pro-choice” can turn on whether the issue is framed in terms of equilibriums or limits. By way of further illustration, I once conjured two individuals: one aligns with the #MeToo movement, while the other describes herself as a critic:

Yet digging deeper into their views on sexual harassment, it turns out that they are identical. They both believe workplaces ought to adopt policies that more effectively protect women from sexual harassment, and that there should be robust due-process protections to guard against false accusations. They even agree on the language of their optimal policies. What might explain their different postures toward #MeToo? The first is focused on equilibriums. She believes that the status quo in American workplaces doesn’t adequately protect female workers, and that #MeToo is likely to improve things by shifting the equilibrium, making it marginally more friendly to working women. The second is focused on limits. She frets that #MeToo is ending careers without adequate due process and enabling big injustices at the extremes. She worries that, left unchecked by opposition, it will spiral out of control.

With that illustrative example in mind, I argued that many Americans would feel less alienated from fellow citizens, and find it easier to persuade or forge useful compromises, “if they recognized that some of the people fighting on ‘the other side’ of a polarizing issue actually hold values and beliefs strikingly similar to their own.” On so many issues—including the Kavanaugh controversy—probing whether a person is thinking in terms of equilibriums or limits tells us a lot more about their values and what motivates their position than knowing with which “team” they align.

So what does the Kavanaugh nomination look like among those who avoid framing it as a binary conflict between Republicans and Democrats, or men and women, or the pro-life and the pro-choice, or the patriarchy and #MeToo (even granting that those binaries best describe some participants and that the stakes remain high regardless of our framework)?