The Vanishing Art of Compromise

Morgan McCarraher

The Advocate

When it comes to problems and disagreements—whether something small, like deciding what colour a living room should be, or something as consequential as geopolitical tensions—there was once an approach that felt both ordinary and essential: the art of compromise. It was understood as a skill, even a virtue. To compromise required the ability to see the full picture, to acknowledge multiple perspectives, and to approach disagreement with a measure of compassion and respect.

Compromise was never about weakness. It was about balance. It asked people to recognize that no single viewpoint holds every answer, and that progress often emerges from shared ground rather than total victory. It required patience, humility, and the willingness to accept that getting part of what you want can be better than getting nothing at all.

In recent years, however, this art form has been quietly eroding. Compromise has come to be seen not as cooperation, but as surrender. The cultural mood increasingly rewards certainty over curiosity and absolutism over dialogue. Many people now approach disagreements not as problems to be solved together, but as contests to be won.

Several forces contribute to this shift. One is the growing need to always be right. In an environment shaped by public opinion, social media visibility, and instant feedback, changing one’s mind can feel risky. Admitting partial fault or conceding ground is often framed as failure rather than growth. Another factor is the erosion of compassion. When opponents are reduced to caricatures, compromise feels unnecessary—why meet halfway with someone you no longer recognize as reasonable or human?

There is also a pervasive belief that one’s own idea is inherently superior. This mindset treats disagreement as evidence of ignorance or malice rather than difference. Once that assumption takes hold, compromise becomes impossible. If the other side is wrong by definition, there is no incentive to listen, let alone adapt.

The consequences of this cultural shift are far-reaching. In personal relationships, small disagreements harden into resentments because neither side is willing to yield. In workplaces, collaboration breaks down as individuals protect positions instead of solving problems. In civic life, polarisation deepens, and governance becomes gridlocked by the refusal to give ground.

What is lost in this process is not just civility, but effectiveness. Compromise has always been one of the primary tools through which complex societies function. Large, diverse groups cannot move forward through unanimity or dominance alone. They move forward by negotiating, adjusting, and accepting imperfect outcomes in service of shared stability.

Importantly, compromise does not mean abandoning principles. It means recognising that principles exist within a world of competing needs and limited resources. The ability to compromise reflects confidence in one’s values, not insecurity. It demonstrates the understanding that long-term progress often depends on cooperation rather than confrontation.

If the art of compromise continues to vanish, the cost will not be measured only in louder arguments or sharper divisions. It will be measured in stagnation. Problems will persist not because they are unsolvable, but because no one is willing to move first.

Compromise was never the problem—our unwillingness to practice it is.