Bridging Divides Through the Art of Questions
Created at: September 30, 2025

Build bridges with your questions, not your answers — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Why Questions Connect
At its core, Adichie’s line reframes conversation as architecture: questions lay planks between shores, while premature answers often fortify walls. When we ask, we signal humility, invite context, and create room for voices previously sidelined. By contrast, answers—especially definitive ones—can fix positions and foreclose learning, however well-intended. Consequently, a question is less a display of knowledge than a request for relationship. It acknowledges that understanding is co-authored, not decreed. With this posture established, we can see why Adichie warns against closure: bridges are not built by declaring arrival, but by inviting the next step together.
Adichie and the Peril of Single Stories
Building on this, Adichie’s “The Danger of a Single Story” (TED, 2009) shows how questions multiply perspectives that stereotypes flatten. Asking, “What other stories exist here?” disrupts the tidy narrative that reduces people to one dimension. The bridge emerges when curiosity replaces certainty. Consider a classroom discussion that shifts after a student asks, “Whose viewpoint is missing?” The syllabus hasn’t changed, but the conversation widens. In Adichie’s frame, the plural—stories, not story—depends on the pluralizing power of questions, which naturally leads us to older traditions of inquiry.
The Socratic Lineage of Dialogue
Long before modern talks, Socrates practiced bridge-building by asking, not asserting. Plato’s Apology (c. 399 BC) portrays him probing assumptions through elenchus—questions that invite others to examine what they take for granted. Rather than humiliating opponents, the aim is co-discovery: walking together from confusion toward clearer ground. Thus, inquiry becomes a shared path rather than a contest of declarations. This ancient method foreshadows today’s conversational tools, where the right question softens defenses and opens doors that answers alone cannot unlock.
Psychology of Inquiry and Listening
Extending this thread, psychology shows how questions foster trust and change. Carl Rogers’s client-centered therapy (1957) used empathic, reflective questions to help people feel heard and articulate their own insights. Likewise, motivational interviewing (Miller & Rollnick, 1991) uses open questions and reflective listening to reduce resistance, letting clients voice reasons for change. In both cases, the question is a scaffold for autonomy: it honors the other’s agency and experience. That respect, in turn, creates the bridge strong enough to carry difficult truths—particularly in moments of conflict.
Bridging Conflict With Curiosity
Moreover, conflict transformation relies on precisely these questions. Restorative justice practices—popularized by Howard Zehr’s Changing Lenses (1990)—ask, “What happened? Who was affected? What needs repair?” Such prompts shift the focus from blame to responsibility and from punishment to repair, enabling parties to cross from accusation to accountability. Imagine neighbors disputing noise: the pivot from “You’re inconsiderate” to “What’s making evenings loud for you, and how is it affecting us?” reframes the interaction. The bridge appears when each side names impact and need, not just positions.
Designing and Leading by Asking
Similarly, design thinking begins with empathy interviews that privilege the user’s voice; the classic “How might we…?” formulation (IDEO; Stanford d.school) keeps possibility open. Leaders, too, build alignment by inquiry. Mary Parker Follett’s Creative Experience (1924) argues for integrative solutions emerging from joint exploration rather than top-down edicts. In both arenas, questions turn stakeholders into co-creators. The bridge here is practical: shared problem definitions make shared solutions plausible, thereby converting opposition into partnership.
Practicing Better Questions
To translate principle into habit: start with curiosity over certainty; use open invitations (“Can you tell me more about…?”); share tentative thoughts as hypotheses, not verdicts (“I might be missing something—does this fit?”); follow up gently (“What else feels important?”); and leave space for silence so others can cross at their pace. Ultimately, questions are commitments—to listen, to revise, and to walk together. When we lead with them, bridges don’t merely connect points; they create a path where none existed, fulfilling Adichie’s challenge in everyday conversations.