Extremists, socialists, racists, baby killers, granny killers - the inflammatory rhetoric crackles and burns. Everywhere we look, some group or self-appointed spokesman seems absolutely certain they are right and everyone else is not only wrong but stupid - and perhaps evil.
Whatever happened to civility? Its decline may be an unfortunate but "natural" outgrowth of the kind of society we've become. A number of powerful forces work against civility.
One cause is the media, of course. Many so-called "reality" shows routinely display the worst aspects of human nature as these temporary kings spew obscenities and abrasive insults. Meanwhile, the cable TV news shows polarize viewers, presenting a pitched battle between selfless patriots on one side and lying, cowardly scoundrels on the other.
No doubt these characters, who put the "me" in media, bear some of the blame for the ugly tone of our national conversation. They're not there to be reasonable or work things out. Their jobs, their ratings and their fortunes depend on resentment, anger, and adamant certainty about everything.
They can never display a touch of humility, which is a pre-requisite for true civility. And humility can only come from remembering that we have been, can be, and will be, at some time or other, wrong.
Yes, wrong. Unless we acknowledge our own mistakes and use those mistakes as restraints on our egos, we may fall into the trap of believing we have all the truth on our side and our "enemies" - a word we should use only with extreme caution - have none.
That's why I'm announcing a movement to start a new national holiday called "I Was Wrong Day." We don't have to wear sackcloth and ashes on the DART train, or walk around Cowboys Stadium flagellating ourselves, but it would do us all good to officially acknowledge our mistakes at least once a year.
Perhaps "I Was Wrong Day" could be a two-part ceremony: In the morning, we could meditate on what we got wrong over the past year. In the afternoon, we could call or e-mail someone with whom we've had a disagreement and say, "You know, I may have been wrong about that." Hallmark can sell special "I Was Wrong Day" greeting cards; clever web sites will spring up. You see the possibilities.
If we remain aware of our own fallibility, we may hear a still, small voice the next time we're tempted to engage in some vitriolic argument or brand someone the Antichrist. That little voice might whisper, "Hey...remember, you might be wrong."
Now this doesn't mean that every opinion is of equal value, and it doesn't mean that one side or another can never be right. But "National I Was Wrong Day" will remind us that don't have a monopoly on wisdom, and we should treat each other as fellow seekers of truth, not combatants in some rhetorical death match.
As the brilliant philosopher and mathematician Rene Descartes said, "I am indeed amazed when I realize how weak my mind is and how prone to error."
That's the voice of humility. And it's the spirit of "National I Was Wrong Day."
Chris Tucker is a Dallas writer and literary consultant.
If you have opinions or rebuttals about this commentary, call (214) 740-9338 or email us.
