How do we avoid becoming so focused on “winning” that we lose social trust completely?
Civic Witness Series: Questions from the Attic, is founded on a simple premise: the people living through democratic erosion have questions the ‘experts’ aren’t addressing; it is inspired by and in honor of Adia in the Attic. Those questions matter because they provide an opportunity for sharing and documenting what democratic erosion feels like to people living through it. We don’t pretend to have “The Answer” to these questions, but we hope to stimulate the conversation her questions have prompted.
How do we avoid becoming so focused on “winning,” that we lose social trust completely?
From 1968 to 1971, sports were a large part of my life (and still are). Our school, Balboa High School on the Pacific side of the Panama Canal Zone, had an excellent program for boys and girls, and I played on varsity teams. I learned an enduring life lesson about winning from someone who had never touched a basketball.
At the beginning of my senior year, a tall, lanky girl named Connie was in one of my classes. She stood about six feet two inches. One day, I asked whether she played basketball. She told me her height might be deceiving: she had never touched the ball. After speaking to the coach, I invited her to meet me at the court on a day when we had no scheduled practice. We started in the bleachers. I explained the game and told her about the girls on the team. What we lacked, I explained, was height. Then, with chalk, I drew a box on the court where I wanted her to stand. I got a ladder and marked an “X” on the backboard to give her a target. I demonstrated the shot, showing her how the angle and force mattered.
For two weeks, we practiced every day after school.
When the season began, Connie did not get as much playing time as I had hoped. I urged the coach to give her opportunities. Practice could prepare her, but she needed experience in an actual game.
Finally came the game we needed to win to reach the playoffs. The coach put Connie in. I passed her the ball whenever I could. Connie scored our final two baskets.
We won. She was thrilled. So were the coach and the rest of us
50 years later…
Connie and I reconnected about five years ago. More than half a century later, that game has remained a highlight we have shared.
I loved competition. I wanted to win. I also loved the camaraderie and the feeling that our combined effort could accomplish more than any one of us alone. What I learned was the deep satisfaction of helping someone discover what she could contribute and then trusting her when it mattered. That understanding followed me into my work as Youth Center Director at Fort Amador and later as Youth Activities Sports Director at Fort Benning, Georgia. Leading by example mattered: how we treat a beginner, respond to a mistake, or handle disappointment teaches more than any instruction manual.
Those lessons accompanied me through 37 years of civilian service in the Department of Defense and nearly 24 years as an Army Reserve officer. My work in intelligence, operations, policy, and leadership took me into very different settings, including Panama, Bosnia, and Afghanistan. Across those assignments, I came to value people who understood their responsibilities to others. Different specialties and perspectives strengthen a team when people listen, share information, and respect what each person brings to the mission. Trust requires effort. People need room to ask questions, raise concerns, and acknowledge what they do not know.
The experience that shapes civic life.
Democracy involves competition. Elections have winners and losers. People disagree strongly about policies, priorities, and the direction of the country. We should be able to argue our positions and work hard for the outcomes we believe are right. The danger comes when winning becomes permission to do anything: disregarding fair rules, humiliating opponents, silencing criticism, or treating whole groups of people as though they have no legitimate place in the country.
We still have to live together after an election. We still rely on shared institutions. Our neighbors retain their rights regardless of how they voted. Social trust does not require agreement on every issue. It does require confidence that we will respect one another’s rights, tell the truth as best we can, and accept limits on our own status and power. Accountability is part of maintaining trust. A team suffers when misconduct is excused because the person responsible is useful or influential. A country suffers for the same reason.
Connie’s story also reminds me to ask myself who is being overlooked. Who has something to contribute but has not been invited, encouraged, or given a fair opportunity? We can ask that question in a neighborhood, a workplace, a volunteer organization, or a public institution or in the check-out line. Listening to someone before judging them is a beginning. So is making room for a newcomer, refusing to believe or pass along a claim we have not checked, or defending fair treatment when it offers us no immediate advantage.
These actions are modest both modest and challenging. Repeated over time, they give people reasons to trust one another. We cannot solve our divisions with a basketball story. But I am here to bear witness to what I learned on that court and carried into my working life: that people can accomplish remarkable successes when we work together.
I wanted Connie to get into the game. When the opportunity came, I passed her the ball. Decades later, we both remember the joy of what we accomplished together. That is a kind of winning worth carrying into our civic life.
Founded in 2016, The Steady State is a nonprofit 501(c)(4) organization of more than 400 former senior national security professionals. Our membership includes former officials from the CIA, FBI, Department of State, Department of Defense, and Department of Homeland Security. Drawing on deep expertise across national security disciplines, including intelligence, diplomacy, military affairs, and law, we advocate for constitutional democracy, the rule of law, and preserving America’s national security institutions.