At Heterodox Academy, we see disagreement as a springboard in the search for shared truth that lets us go beyond merely tolerating views that diverge from ours. It pushes us to examine our assumptions, revise our beliefs based on new evidence, and find the words to express ourselves clearly. But disagreement only works when we know how to harness it, which requires practice. Unfortunately, many of today’s students either fear it or shun it.

One highly effective way to not only show students how scholarly disagreement works, but also to bring genuine viewpoint diversity into the classroom, is through co-teaching by instructors who don’t share the same perspective. By observing their instructors challenge each other, students learn that disagreement is normal even among experts, and that changing one’s mind is not a sign of weakness.   

Enter professors (and friends) Joe Vukov and Michael Burns of Loyola University Chicago. Vukov is a philosopher, and Burns is a microbiologist. They co-teach courses such as Philosophy and Biology for the Future, where they explore emerging technologies like virtual reality headsets and large language models. Their differences are more than just disciplinary: Vukov is a “fairly conservative Catholic,” and Burns is a “fairly progressive atheist,” as they put it to me via email. 

The pair intentionally organize their courses around constructive disagreement. “It is important for students to see us both defending positions, and calling each other out when we don't agree with something, but also to have students see how to do this without getting upset. They then feel more comfortable doing this themselves,” they explained. 

The pair identify three essential ingredients for productive disagreement. First is intellectual humility: acknowledging that no one has all the answers, and some of our beliefs are probably wrong. Second is compassion and empathy: asking yourself how someone you’re speaking with came to hold their beliefs, and considering whether you might believe similarly if you were in their shoes. Third is learning to separate criticisms of your ideas from criticism of yourself. 

“If you are in a space where you know that the people around you are all approaching this with humility and genuine curiosity,” they explained, the conversation can become “an evaluation of a set of beliefs looking specifically for blind spots and holes” rather than an arena for participants to “‘destroy’ one another or just use rhetoric to ‘win’ a debate.”

The professors also work hard to build a sense of community in their classroom. “One reason we are able to disagree constructively is that we are also good friends. So we want to build a community for our students as well, so that [they] have a similar shared basis for wrestling with important and contentious topics. [...] One of our students let us know that a text thread from class (months ago) was still going,” they told me.  

Students seem to love the experience. “[W]e get positive feedback about the classroom environment because of our disagreements — the fact that we're openly interested in listening to each other makes the classroom a safe space for students to disagree with one or the other (or both) of us, and know that we still respect them as people and want to hear what they think.” 

Vukov and Burns also bring their approach to the broader campus community. At a Heterodox ConversationTM event at SUNY Cortland in October, they delivered a tag-team presentation exploring the science and ethics of genetically modifying human embryos, also known as germline gene editing. Following their presentation, attendees joined the conversation, turning to their nearest neighbors to discuss a series of hypothetical scenarios. Would genome editing be permissible for medically unnecessary enhancement purposes? Would it be permissible for medical use if it were only accessible to a rich few? What if humanity were at risk of extinction by a super pathogen, but genome editing could ensure the next generation’s survival? After each prompt, the speakers asked attendees to share the takeaways from their discussion. 

Burns and Vukov also shared their positions on various uses for germline gene editing. Burns was generally supportive of the practice (while acknowledging its risks), whereas Vukov was categorically opposed to it, explaining that he views it as a violation of basic human dignity. They occasionally challenged each other, such as when Burns objected to an analogy Vukov drew between genome editing and torture. 

They also didn’t shy away from expressing uncertainty, such as when Vukov confessed he hadn’t fully thought through his views on a scenario in which parents’ reproductive cells are edited before they form an embryo. Despite their differences, it was clear each speaker believed that the other — and those in the audience — had a perspective that was worth considering, and was curious to learn what it was.

The professors’ pluralistic approach is supported by empirical research on the psychology of conflict resolution. Recent work suggests that engaging thoughtfully with opposing views requires regulating one’s negative emotions, cultivating curiosity about views we don’t share, refraining from derogating people who hold those views, and engaging with issues we view as “taboo.” People conversing with a receptive partner have also been shown to spontaneously become more receptive themselves, suggesting that modeling thoughtful disagreement can have real benefits. 

Disagreement is inevitable: it finds us at work, among friends, and around the dinner table. In the relative safety of the university setting, exposure to genuine viewpoint diversity (that is, exposure to a variety of views as articulated by those who hold those views) can help students learn to override their instinct to dismiss or derogate those they disagree with. Vukov and Burns show us that by practicing curiosity, we can learn something new and arrive at a more informed view. Hopefully Vukov and Burns’ students will continue to model constructive disagreement, allowing the lessons of humility and curiosity to ripple out beyond the classroom.