One of the most well-known stories about King Solomon from the Book of Kings is about two women who appear before him, both claiming to be the mother of a baby. Both women seem to have equal claims to the baby, so King Solomon comes up with a brilliant suggestion: we will cut the baby in half. At that suggestion, one of the women says that she would give up her claim to the baby. King Solomon finds that this woman is the true mother. This finding is based on the reasoning that the true mother would be more concerned about the baby being alive, than about being right. It relies on the innate goodness of the mother to make this decision about her child.
What happens if both of the women say, “go ahead, cut the baby in half”? Would King Solomon have genuinely cut the baby in half? My assumption (acknowledging that this is story is set in a pre-modern era where everyone carried knives, had very little knowledge of science, and things were generally pretty bloody), is that no, King Solomon would not have cut the baby in half.
While this question may seem like a bad law school hypothetical, it’s a question that feels increasingly relevant in today’s climate, where I’m uncertain that King Solomon’s question would yield the same response. This post-truth era in which we live is one where holding our line frequently comes at the expense of the good, or even logic.
This story is supposed to teach us two important lessons for the context of what we will discuss here. The first is that we will be able to identify who is telling the truth by identifying the person who cares more about the greater good than about being right. The second is that we should care more about the best outcome than about getting our way.
In 2017, the New York Times ran an advertisement that said, “The Truth is More Important Now Than Ever”. Four years later, this ad is no less relevant. Our search for truth, however, has become increasingly more complicated. King Solomon could rely on the innate goodness or greater good or at the very least common sense of the true mother to kick in when it came down to it, and for the right choice to be made. While not every decision has as clear a right and wrong as whether or not to cut a baby in half, the part of the social contract that King Solomon relied on is slipping away.
We are all, on both sides, consumed in a game of identity politics. We play this game, not only when we cast our votes, but when we advocate for, and enact, policies in our schools and workplaces, and make statements to our friends. Now more than ever, we are digging our heels in, and losing sight of the big picture. If King Solomon was waiting on someone today to step up and say that they would give up their baby rather than cut it in half, he might be left waiting a long time.
This is not to say that we no longer care about the greater good; we do. Like the women in the story, we all believe that the narrative we are telling and defending is correct, and for our groups and us, it probably is. But when we become so focused on our desired outcome, we lose sight of the impact our insistence can have on others. We can stand there and shout at the top of our lungs that it’s our baby, but if no one takes a step back and says, this is my baby, and I would rather have it raised by someone else than have it cut in half, then we are liable to end up with a lot of dead babies.
When we think about this story, we should aspire to be like the woman who says she will give up her claim to the baby. The story teaches us that we need to see past what we want for ourselves, and look at what is best for everyone, particularly for those who are vulnerable, and with whose care we have been charged. When we forge down a path, we should be turning back every so often to orient ourselves, to ask ourselves if the answer we are insisting is correct, is harming someone else, and whether the validation of being right is worth the harm it may cause.
It’s incredibly tempting to go down swinging, but before we make that our battle plan, it’s worthwhile thinking about what happens after we lose. Because the women could not come to an agreement about who was the mother of the baby, King Solomon provided them with his best alternative to a negotiated agreement: half a baby for each of them. Had they both elected to go down swinging, we likely would not know the true mother, but they would each have half a baby. In this case, that outcome is probably worse than no baby at all.
Relenting our position is difficult. In the era of the internet, every misguided stance can resurface at any moment. But in the face of this, we should be brave enough to step back, take a deep breath, and make the choice that saves the baby, even if it means conceding all or part of our position. We need to see the forest from the trees. It is unlikely that we will always or ever be rewarded for taking this stance, like the woman in the story is, but that does not make it any less worth taking.
It is worth mentioning, I believe, that King Solomon’s finding was not on the matter of who had birthed the child, but who was the child’s mother. The truth is more important now than ever, but just as we can lose sight of the broader context in which our arguments are situated, we can fail to establish the question we are seeking a truthful answer to.
I chose not to pull in a world or life example in writing this, though so many came to mind during the process. We are confronted so often with circumstances where the option we are presented with will result in a bloody mess. When that happens, we need to step back, all of us, on every side, and ask ourselves: Can I make a decision here that will be better for everyone, even if it won’t be the outcome I wanted for myself?