Talking to Strangers as a Practice of Presence
Talking to a stranger about politics sounds like a recipe for conflict. In this conversation on Wellness Reimagined, I describe why I began doing exactly that, and why the setting, the way I approach someone, and my willingness to listen may matter as much as the questions themselves.
My work with Triptych Dialogue grew out of a shift away from making political artwork anonymously and simply expressing my own opinions. I wanted to encounter people directly, face to face, and explore whether a political conversation could happen without becoming an argument.
That led me to questions that are deliberately non-confrontational, but also to something less obvious: the conditions surrounding the conversation. Where are we? How am I approaching the person? Am I actually listening, or am I preparing my counterargument? Can I stay present enough to notice what we might share emotionally, even when our political beliefs are very different?
The conversation also moves beyond politics. We talk about the role of physical environments, the senses, phones and digital attention, community, vulnerability, witnessing another person, and how an encounter can become a story that travels beyond the original meeting.
Key Takeaways
Triptych Dialogue grew partly from David Deighton's move away from anonymous political artwork toward direct, face-to-face encounters with strangers.
The setting of a conversation matters. David describes choosing places where people have enough space and attention to engage rather than trying to force a conversation into an unsuitable moment.
Active listening means resisting the impulse to prepare a counterargument and instead paying attention to the emotional experience underneath someone's political position.
David uses the idea of witnessing to describe offering another person genuine presence without requiring agreement.
The natural environment, particularly National Parks and mountain summits, can create a very different context for conversation than the digital environments that dominate everyday attention.
David sees encounters as material for art, but also as stories that participants can carry into other relationships and conversations.
Detailed Exploration
The move from anonymous political art to meeting people face to face
Before Triptych Dialogue became what it is now, much of my political artwork happened at a distance. I had used different names and made hidden work where people didn't necessarily know who I was. Much of that work was about expressing my own political opinion.
At a certain point, that stopped feeling sufficient. Political divisions were affecting relationships between friends and family members, and people were increasingly avoiding political conversations because they didn't want another argument. I began wondering what would happen if I stopped hiding behind the artwork and met people directly.
That meant talking with strangers, not just communicating with an existing audience. I wanted to see whether politics could be treated as a taboo subject without the conversation immediately turning into conflict, and whether art could become part of the way that encounter happened.
Presence begins before the first question
One of the things I have learned is that the question itself isn't the whole method. Before I speak to someone, I have to think about how I am approaching them and where the encounter is taking place.
I need to be present enough to acknowledge my senses and keep my mind from running ahead of the conversation. Otherwise I may appear to be listening while actually preparing my response.
When I can stay present, something changes in the encounter. People sometimes become more willing to talk about things that are close to their hearts, including emotions they may not normally express. I've had people become emotional while discussing political subjects and relationships that have been damaged by political disagreement.
That has made me wonder whether my own presence can make another person more present.
Listening without preparing the counterargument
When someone says something politically opposite to what I believe, my first reaction can be to think about what I disagree with. But if I spend the conversation preparing my counterargument, I'm not really listening.
Instead, I try to let the things that trigger me pass and listen for what is happening emotionally. Someone might be angry about the political system while having completely different beliefs from mine. I can disagree with what they are saying and still recognize that I may share the anger or frustration underneath it.
That gives us another place to stand. I don't have to pretend we agree. I can acknowledge that there is something human we share and continue from there.
For me, that is where listening becomes more than simply waiting for someone to finish speaking.
Witnessing someone without requiring agreement
I use the word "witness" for part of this experience. There is something meaningful about giving a stranger a short period of your attention and allowing them to speak about something that people may rarely ask them about.
That presence can itself be an act of kindness.
The conversation doesn't have to become an argument, because I'm not approaching the person with the intention of defeating what they're saying. I'm leaning in, listening, and showing that I'm actually there.
I also don't see this only as a political technique. The same principle can exist in ordinary human interactions. Someone might offer another person a piece of cake or a banana. The specific gesture changes, but there is an exchange: something is offered first, and that can create the possibility of receiving something in return.
Place changes the conditions of the encounter
I have the unusual freedom of deciding where some of these conversations happen. I've taken my art installations into National Parks, where people arrive expecting nature, scenery and wildlife rather than a political conversation.
That matters to me because the environment creates a different framework for the exchange. Someone may have arrived by car or bus from a busy city or freeway, and then suddenly they are surrounded by the natural world.
I've also taken the work to mountain summits. I'll spend the day there, engaging with people and asking them about politics. I originally expected more arguments. Instead, I've found that the way the conversation is framed can make a significant difference.
The place doesn't solve the disagreement. It changes the circumstances in which the encounter takes place.
From an encounter to a story that travels
I don't think the value of these encounters ends when the conversation is over.
The words and responses people give me can become material for paintings, sculptures and other artwork. But there is another way an encounter can continue. A person can take the experience itself with them.
I think we're story-based people. We remember experiences and tell them to other people. If someone has an unusual encounter with an artwork and a stranger talking about politics, that can become a story they later share.
That story can lead to another conversation that I may never witness. In that sense, the artwork can become more than the object I originally made. The encounter can keep moving.
From the Conversation
"I needed to do that in person, face to face, and to engage them and to not hide behind a name."
"I needed to be able to acknowledge all my senses, keep my mind under control so I could be there, to hear really what they had to say."
"I use the word witness."
"It's the engagement to the other. It's having something to give in order to then receive."
"That's the transformation. We're story-based people."
Related Triptych Dialogue Projects
Dialogue Through 3 Political Questions:
The conversation directly discusses the non-confrontational political questions David uses when engaging strangers.
Dialogue Recordings:
The episode connects to the face-to-face conversations David records as part of Triptych Dialogue.
National Park Installations:
David describes taking the work into National Parks and using the physical environment as part of the encounter.
Art Flow:
The discussion of presence, senses, environment and allowing an encounter to develop connects directly to David's broader interest in art as an unfolding experience.
FAQ
What is Triptych Dialogue?
Triptych Dialogue is David Deighton's ongoing artivism project in which conversation, listening, encounter and artwork are used to explore political division and ways of bridging differences.
Why does David Deighton talk to strangers about politics?
David began talking directly with strangers because he wanted to move beyond anonymous political artwork and explore whether people could discuss a highly divisive subject without immediately turning the encounter into an argument.
What does David mean by witnessing?
In this conversation, witnessing means being genuinely present for another person and giving them room to express themselves without immediately trying to correct, criticize or defeat what they are saying.
Why does the environment matter to Triptych Dialogue?
David describes the physical setting as part of the conditions of an encounter. A conversation in a National Park or on a mountain can take place within a very different sensory and social context from one occurring in a busy city or through a digital device.
How does conversation become part of David's artwork?
David treats people's responses and the encounters themselves as artistic material. He also sees the experience as something that can become a story carried by the participant into future encounters.
About the Host
Shreya hosts Wellness Reimagined, a podcast exploring wellness through conversations about how people live, connect, and experience the world.
Edited Transcript
David Deighton: My journey started with trying to connect with my public as an artist anonymously. I worked through different names and hidden artworks where people didn't necessarily know who I was. I had also been making political artwork, but much of it was simply about telling people what my opinion was.
That only goes so far. We're increasingly divided because of our political beliefs, and people can stop speaking to friends or family because they don't want another argument about politics. I realized that if I wanted to engage my public differently, I needed to do it face to face and stop hiding behind a name.
It became something different when I started doing it with strangers. I wanted to see whether we could talk about politics as a taboo subject without immediately getting upset with one another, and whether I could explore that through artwork.
Shreya: When people take that first step into a conversation with a stranger, what shift do you see in their awareness?
David Deighton: A lot of the shift begins with my own approach. How do you approach a stranger? How do you suddenly speak to someone you've never met? And where do you do it?
I found that I had to be very present for the person. To be present, I needed to acknowledge all my senses and keep my mind under control so I could really hear what they were saying. I needed to listen actively and look for something we might have in common.
When I started doing that, people became more open. They became more willing to talk about things that were close to their hearts and sometimes to express emotions they had been holding back.
I've had people cry. Sometimes they had never had the opportunity, or hadn't had one recently, to express how strongly they felt about a political subject. Sometimes the politics had contributed to broken relationships.
What I've noticed is that my presence may allow other people to become more present themselves.
Shreya: Triptych Dialogue explores bridging divides through structured but simple conversation. How do you think these tools disarm people emotionally?
David Deighton: I'm not sure I would say that they disarm people. What happens is that, when you create a piece of art, including a performance art piece where you're engaging with people, you've chosen the space where the conversation takes place.
You don't have control over what comes back to you. And I think that applies to conversations generally, especially when something is sensitive or reaches deeper emotions.
We need to be conscious of where we have these conversations. Maybe it shouldn't happen when somebody is busy or rushing to work. We need to notice our surroundings and where people are in that moment so we can give them enough space to express themselves.
Shreya: Is there a particular technique that consistently opens people up regardless of their background?
David Deighton: It would be different for different people. In my case, as an artist, I come at it from a different angle.
I don't simply ask non-confrontational questions. I ask non-confrontational political questions. At the same time, there may be a piece of artwork nearby—a sculpture, painting or installation. The artwork helps create a space in which the engagement can happen.
That's my example. Other people have different ways of approaching someone. It could be offering them a cake, a banana, or something else.
It's the engagement with the other person. There has to be something to give in order to receive. That's the first step.
Shreya: You've spoken with hundreds of people about politics, a subject many people avoid. What have these dialogues taught you about mindfulness and conflict?
David Deighton: I'm asking people to talk about a very taboo subject, and most people are willing to do it because I promise to listen to what they have to say.
Listening isn't simply waiting for my opportunity to make a counterargument, correct what they said, criticize their opinion or challenge a fact they mentioned. I'm trying to go deeper and understand how they feel about something.
Someone might be angry about the political system and be completely opposite to me politically. I can let the things that upset me pass and try to be there for them. If they're angry about the political system and I'm angry about it too, I can tell them that I disagree with what they've said while also recognizing that I share that anger.
That commonality gives us another place to begin. We can recognize something of our shared humanity without pretending that we agree politically.
Shreya: People seem more willing to listen when they feel truly witnessed, even without agreement.
David Deighton: Yes. They feel witnessed. It's an act of kindness simply to be present for another person, especially someone you don't know.
You give them a space to speak about something that most people may never ask them about. You're offering your presence for that short amount of time, and it can create an emotional release.
There's also civility in the conversation. I'm listening, I'm leaning in, and I'm not showing rage while the person is speaking. People respond well to that.
I use the word witness.
I also take these interactions as material for my artwork. Their responses can later become part of a painting or sculpture. The words they give me can also appear in different artistic expressions.
I think everyone can be an artist in the sense that there is an act of intention. We can have moments of expression in different ways and receive something from them that becomes part of our own practice—whether that's being present, being mindful, or simply practicing loving kindness toward someone else.
That can be part of our artwork too.
Shreya: Your installations invite strangers to interact in unexpected places. How does the environment influence their willingness to be present?
David Deighton: It depends on where the exchange happens. What is the environment of the exchange?
I have the freedom to make these exchanges in unusual places. I bring my art installations into National Parks in the United States, where people are usually there to experience nature, a beautiful view or wildlife.
They're surrounded by the natural world, which is a very different framework from the one they may have arrived from—a car, a bus, a busy freeway or a city.
So their mindset is different. It's an environment that can be very open for exchanges.
I've also gone to mountain summits where people go for the view. I'll spend the day there practicing my art, talking with people and engaging strangers around this taboo subject of politics.
I've done this not only in the United States but in different countries. I expected that there would be constant arguments. Instead, I've found that it doesn't necessarily happen that way. It depends on how things are framed.
Shreya: Why do this?
David Deighton: Because it's connected to the foundation of our free societies and our communities. We need to be able to engage with one another.
At the same time, we're spending more and more time on our phones, clicking likes and hearts and being engaged by systems that are trying to capture our attention. That's very different from being engaged with one another as people.
The natural world gives us a different kind of interaction because we're using all of our senses. It's not just something happening at our fingertips through a device that's drawing information out of us.
Shreya: What do you think people are most hungry for beneath all the noise?
David Deighton: Once our basic needs are fulfilled—food and drink—I think there's the love that comes from connection with community and from discovering a bit of ourselves in other people.
Our things aren't necessarily helping us do that anymore. We have so many distractions that take us away from one another.
Look at children with cell phones. They can sit next to each other while looking at their phones instead of talking to one another.
Those of us who still have a culture of communication in person can perhaps reignite it and show younger people how that works. I think that's an important direction for us.
The question is how to do it. My approach is simple: engage. Take one small step whenever the opportunity appears. It doesn't have to become a constant mission.
When an opportunity comes, take the step. Be vulnerable for a second with another person. Something positive may happen.
And recognize where people are so that we can better understand where we are ourselves.
Shreya: When we finally receive that presence, curiosity or understanding, how does it change the way we move through the world?
David Deighton: I've found that people often want to do the same thing with others.
My artwork can provide a tool, an example or a story that people can take with them. They have an encounter with the artwork and with me, and later they can use that experience to begin their own conversations.
That's the transformation. We're story-based people. We need the experiences in our lives, and those are the experiences we want to share.
If people can relate to those stories and pass them on, things grow. The foundation is rebuilt that way.
Shreya: If listeners want to connect with you, what's the best way?
David Deighton: It's a little hypocritical, because to connect with me you're going to have to use a digital device. I've decided to use YouTube as a kind of diary of the work I do.
It's quirky, fun and abstract. It's not meant simply to entertain. I've been putting videos and snippets of things there. It's Triptych Dialogue.
It's an unusual name. If you search for Triptych Dialogue, you may find me wearing an odd-looking hat or doing something abstract, including a video where I have a rubbish can on my head.
You might have to look for a while before finding that particular video and wonder what it has to do with communication.
Shreya: I think people will have no problem using a phone to find something worthwhile. I'll make sure the links are available to the listeners.
Thank you for being part of this exploration into mindful connection and the art of engaging strangers with openness and presence. If today's conversation starts something in you, let it lead you to one brave moment: say hello, ask a question or simply listen with intention.
David Deighton: Thank you. It's been a great conversation. I'm honored to have been here.
I hope this gives people an occasion to go out and engage with someone—a stranger or somebody they already know—and listen to them deeply and actively, with all their senses, and find something they have in common.
And may you build many, many bridges.