Deer In Headlines
By Gery Deer

There’s a type of person most of us have encountered at some point in our lives, who always seemed to have one foot out the door, no matter what they were doing. Maybe they worked beside us. Maybe they were a friend, a family member, a coworker, or even a romantic partner. No matter where they showed up, they always seemed to be either not fully engaged or uncomfortable in a stable.
You know the type. They take a new job while quietly browsing openings for the next one. They join a club but never quite invest themselves in it. They enter relationships while keeping an eye on what else might be available. They volunteer, participate, contribute, and engage, but always with an invisible escape hatch nearby.
At first glance, it can look like independence. Sometimes it’s even mistaken for ambition. In certain situations, it may be both. But there’s often something else happening underneath. Commitment requires vulnerability.
To fully commit to anything, a career, a marriage, a friendship, a community organization, a creative project, or even a personal goal, means accepting uncertainty. It means risking disappointment. It means investing time, energy, emotion, and effort with no guarantee of a rewarding outcome.
For some, the risk feels unbearable. Instead, they remain halfway committed and keep their options open. They avoid becoming too attached, and if things go wrong, they weren’t “all in” from the start. Sadly, however, life rarely rewards partial investment.
A person who constantly keeps one foot out the exit often experiences only a fraction of what commitment can offer. Relationships remain shallow because trust requires consistency. Careers stall because advancement usually belongs to those willing to stay long enough to build expertise and credibility. Community involvement becomes transactional instead of meaningful because real impact takes time. I’ve seen this countless times in professional settings.
Someone joins a team and immediately starts talking about what comes next. Before they have learned the job, they are planning their departure. Before relationships can blossom at all, these types of individuals are looking for better opportunities. Before contributing anything substantial, they evaluate whether the commitment is worth their time.
All things considered, though, sometimes a change is actually necessary. Not every job deserves loyalty. Not every relationship should continue. Not every organization is healthy. Leaving can be the right decision. But there is a difference between recognizing a bad fit and living with your track shoes already laced up. One is discernment. The other is avoidance.
What fascinates me is how often people with one foot out the door believe they are protecting themselves. In reality, they may be protecting themselves from success as much as failure.
Commitment creates opportunities that are impossible with casual participation. The strongest connections are built through years of presence – showing up. The most rewarding careers are often shaped by persistence through difficult seasons. Creative accomplishments emerge from projects that survive frustration, boredom, setbacks, and self-doubt.
None of those things happens if we leave as soon as the initial excitement wears off. The older I get, the more I appreciate people who stay. I’m not referring to those who leave a bad situation or suffer abuse or dysfunction. I mean, people who stay long enough to make a difference. People who keep showing up after the novelty disappears. People who honor commitments when doing so becomes inconvenient. Those are the people who build businesses, strengthen families, sustain friendships, support communities, and create legacies.
They understand something important. Commitment is not a feeling. It is a decision repeated over and over again. Some days that decision feels easy. Other days it feels like work. Most worthwhile things eventually require us to continue long after the excitement fades.
Maybe that’s why people with one foot out the door often seem restless. They spend so much energy preparing for the next thing that they never fully experience the thing right in front of them.
Life is not lived in the exits. It happens while staying. And sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is stop looking for the door, plant both feet firmly where we are, and see what becomes possible when we finally settle in. Be present. Engage and commit.











Civil Discourse, communication, Conversation, Critical Thinking, debate, Deer In Headlines, Family Relationships, Gery Deer, Human Nature, opinion, Political Polarization, politics, Social Commentary, Understanding
Debate is not conversation
In Education, Opinion, Politics, psychology, Uncategorized on June 14, 2026 at 9:08 amDeer In Headlines
By Gery Deer
I have family members I can’t talk politics with. That’s not because they’re bad people, ignorant people, or people I don’t care about. They’re some of the smartest, hardest-working, most generous people I know. We’d help each other move furniture, fix a flat tire, or get through a family crisis without hesitation. But the moment politics enters the conversation, everything changes.
What makes it frustrating is that I’m usually not trying to change anyone’s mind. As a journalist, I’ve spent much of my career talking with people whose backgrounds, values, and beliefs differ from my own. I’ve interviewed politicians, activists, business owners, lobbyists, farmers, teachers, veterans, and everyday citizens from every imaginable perspective. My job was never to win an argument. It was to understand why people believed what they believed.
Unfortunately, that’s not always what happens around the dinner table anymore. Some people have become so hard-wired into their political identities that every discussion feels like a loyalty test. Questioning a policy suddenly becomes an attack on the tribe – or cult, depending on how you see it. Asking for clarification becomes immediate proof that you’re uninformed. Offering a different perspective becomes evidence that you’ve been misled. The conversation stops being about ideas and starts becoming about defending a team.
That’s the difference between a conversation and a debate. A conversation is an exploration. The goal is understanding. A debate is a competition. The goal is victory. Both have value in the right setting, but problems arise when people think they’re having one while participating in the other.
I’ve watched it happen countless times. Someone mentions a news story. Another person responds with an opinion. A third person offers a different interpretation. At first, everyone is simply exchanging thoughts. Then someone decides that understanding isn’t enough. Someone begins trying to prove another person wrong. The shift is subtle but unmistakable.
Questions disappear. Statements become sharper. Opinions are tossed in as facts, lobbed like verbal hand grenades. Listening becomes, well, nonexistent. Instead of learning something, people prepare rebuttals. Rather than consider another perspective, they look for weaknesses to exploit. The discussion has transformed from a conversation into a debate.
If no one recognizes what’s happening, the debate quickly deteriorates into an argument. That’s when voices rise, and interruptions begin. People assign motives rather than address ideas. You’ve probably heard the phrases before. “You only think that because…” or “You’re just saying that because…” Once those words enter the discussion, the original topic has pretty much vanished. The focus becomes defending pride, identity, and ego.
The irony is that arguments rarely – more like never – change minds but usually accomplish the opposite. The harder people push, the more firmly others cling to their existing beliefs. Nobody wants to feel cornered, embarrassed, or dismissed. Even when valid points are being made, they’re lost beneath the emotional weight of the conflict.
Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had ended with complete disagreement. Nobody switched sides. Nobody waved a white flag. Nobody declared victory. Yet both people walked away with a better understanding of how the other saw the world. That’s not failure. That’s success.
Understanding doesn’t require agreement. It doesn’t require compromise on deeply held principles. It simply requires that we recognize that intelligent people can reach different conclusions based on their experience. When we approach disagreement with curiosity instead of combativeness, we create opportunities to learn something new.
Communities depend on that ability. Families depend on it even more. If every disagreement becomes a contest, relationships eventually become casualties. People stop talking. Gatherings become tense. Entire subjects become off-limits because nobody trusts anyone else to listen.
The older I get, the less interested I am in winning debates. Winning is temporary. The satisfaction lasts about as long as the next disagreement. Understanding, however, has lasting value. It strengthens relationships, broadens perspectives, and creates opportunities for cooperation even when agreement remains impossible.
Disagreement is healthy. But what we need are fewer debates disguised as conversations. One builds bridges while the other draws battle lines. In the end, conversations create the possibility of resolution because people are working toward understanding. Debates create division because people are working toward victory. That’s a difference worth remembering.