“Are political disagreements stressing you out? Here are tips to bridge the divide.” So leads NPR’s Morning Edition’s segment with propositions for “talking through differences” and advice for productive conversations in our climate of political division. That there is a problem is undeniable – one in four people in the United States say they’ve ended a friendship due to political disagreements, and a recent Gallup poll found that 80 percent of US adults believe Americans are deeply divided on “the most important values.” Proposed solutions are generic and unhelpful. “Listen,” “acknowledge,” “ask if you can share your perspective,” then “share your perspective” are NPR’s four steps for productive conversations. While I am a strong proponent of better conversations, most people are not going to initiate thorny political discussions. A more basic starting point is required. We need something lighter and more inviting. It is time for a different approach – it is time to play.

Play is capable of opening us up and enriching us through genuine connection. When we allow ourselves, alongside others, to become completely engrossed in the competition, we experience joy and find respite from the weight of our daily lives. Play transports us to a world free of politics and economics. It gives no mind to who you are – when people of different faiths or political parties delight in playing together it cuts through the personal pedigrees or beliefs that too often divide. Play holds the power to restore our childlike verve.

For me, basketball is synonymous with play. Pickup basketball is a portal to lose myself with people I would not have otherwise met. Throughout elementary and middle school, I formed friendships playing basketball in neighbors’ driveways and with classmates after school. Even after playing regularly in high school and college, basketball stayed an accessible way to connect with others. During the 2014 academic year, I tutored high school students after school at a public school in Pittsburgh’s Hill District. On my first day tutoring a class of twenty students, most there involuntarily, they looked at my efforts to help them learn suspiciously. But that changed when I offered a study break to play basketball in the gym adjacent to our classroom. Every male student eagerly accepted.

Basketball quickly became part of our after-school schedule. We played five-on-five full-court games, and the days there were not enough players, we played 21, a half-court variation of basketball where each player tries to score points until a player reaches 21 points. It was genuine play – where the tutor and tutee engaged as equals on a level playing field. The connection built on the court carried back into the classroom; they grew more receptive to my help with their math and English homework. The relational collateral I earned playing gave me greater license to challenge them academically.

Three years later, having transitioned to a corporate job, I stumbled upon a lunch-hour pickup basketball game at Pittsburgh’s West Penn Recreation Center, located in the Polish Hill neighborhood. That grew into a weekly game with a diverse group of locals from the nearby Hill District, blue-collar guys and working professionals on their lunch break. The players ranged from their athletic prime to one who was only months away from retirement. Our one commonality was basketball. Once a game was underway, everyone was singularly focused on the play at hand. The rhythm of the game was often nonverbal, our movements instinctive – spacing on offense, setting a pick for a teammate, synchronizing defense.

These pickup games were approachable too. If someone wanted to join, simply standing at the side of the court reserved a spot in the next game. A community emerged among the regulars: casual pre- and post-game small talk grew into friendships, with the guys exchanging numbers and hanging out outside the gym. Play bonded people who would never have crossed each other’s paths otherwise. These connections formed because a well-played basketball game is satisfying, and not just because of the exercise-induced dopamine hit. There is deep gratification in competing as part of a team against another team, even in the most informal settings.

Despite a general awareness of the joy that comes with play, it is still underappreciated – at least for adults. Play is often associated with spending time frivolously. The pejorative phrase “child’s play,” which dates back to before Chaucer, underscores the longstanding perception of play we have inherited. Playing with others, as adults, is often an afterthought. But, for children, play is regarded as essential for their development. In the world of parenting, it is considered good practice to create spaces for children to play, to set aside playtime, and to schedule playdates.

The academic field of childhood development is well-trodden ground. A meta-analysis of ninety-three controlled outcome studies on play therapy published between 1953 and 2000 affirms the importance of play. Children who had experienced hurt, which often manifests as heightened fears, constant worry, or aggression, showed improvement after consistently spending part of their day playing – especially with others. Not only did these children exhibit improved behavior, they also became more empathetic and developed better peer relationships.

Play can help build and repair emotional bonds between generations too. In Playful Parenting, clinical psychologist Lawrence J. Cohen coaches parents to enter their child’s playful world on the child’s terms. This means being a willing participant and seeing the world from the child’s perspective: “Children don’t say, ‘I had a hard day at school today; can I talk to you about it?’ They say, ‘Will you play with me?’” Cohen adds, “Play is also a way to be close and, even more important, a way to reconnect after the closeness has been severed.”

This insight holds for all of us, not just children and parents. It underscores the value of beginning with play rather than bypassing it, no matter one’s position, age, or rank. Relationships often grow deeper when we play as equals, in sincere participation. In short, the reasons that make play important for children also make play good for a stressed and divided adult populace.

As we age, we do not lose the intrinsic desire for play – rather, life circumstances make it more difficult to continue playing. For one forty-something Pittsburgh father seeking more friends, exploring new social networks at his age was a daunting prospect. Unsure of where to look, he decided to toss a Reddit post into the cyber abyss: “Is there a Pittsburgh Dad/30’s/40’s age dudes type friend group?” he asked. “Just trying to find some ways to meet some new platonic friends…” Responses to the post poured in – hundreds of comments. “Man, so many of us in the same boat,” commented DisgruntledGoat17; “I’ve been looking too,” wrote another user; “I feel your pain,” added mazer8, “I’m 37, lived in Pittsburgh for 13 years, and haven’t made a new friend since I was like 25.” This middle-aged father had unwittingly struck a chord with his act of vulnerability, giving voice to a common struggle among mid-career males. After years of building their careers, they knew they needed more than spending their weekends doing yard work or watching sports alone.

“Wow!! I never expected such a huge and positive response for one quick post,” the father added to his post in an update. Alongside the comments echoing shared struggles had been as many practical suggestions for ways to connect. Most of the recommendations had centered around play in some form: a local dek hockey league, bowling leagues, a board game night at a public library, the Pittsburgh Pinball League, even a city stickball league. Joining a casual adult sports league – specifically, the Pittsburgh Sports League – had been a reoccurring suggestion, and he concluded the update by sharing that he would “definitely” be looking into joining one of PSL’s leagues. In Pittsburgh, adult sport leagues connect more than 24,000 adults of all ages annually. The Pittsburgh Sports League alone offers twenty different sports, include curling, kickball, bowling, bocce, and cornhole.

These sports leagues make an impact across demographics. In one online blog, a newly minted college graduate who had moved to Pittsburgh from central Pennsylvania for a new job describes the lifeline that the sports league provided her in an unfamiliar city. Not interested in drinking or the nightlife scene, she set out in search of playful sociality. She wrestles openly in her posts about struggling to find a social group, highlighting the immediate benefits after joining one of Pittsburgh’s leagues. The joys of competitive sports and a newfound optimism after finding like-minded people already has her feeling better: “I’m not sure if it is the fact that I’m too busy to realize that I’m so isolated or if that’s exactly the amount of interaction I need, but either way, it’s exactly what I wanted.” The loneliness epidemic, officially declared a public health crisis in 2023, has caused plenty of handwringing. These forums attest that we know we are lonely but also that we know the way out – and that play is one of our most significant remedies.

The richness of play extends well beyond improving our happiness or meeting new people. For those who experience profound loss or feel the weight of despair, play can be a source of vitality. The early twentieth-century Catholic social critic G. K. Chesterton has offered a powerful defense of play. As a young adult, Chesterton’s battle with deep depression taught him that cynicism leads to isolation and despair. After a transformative spiritual and intellectual awakening, Chesterton came to hold play in the highest regard. “It is not only possible to say a great deal in praise of play; it is really possible to say the highest things in praise of it. It might reasonably be maintained that the true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground.”

In his lighthearted essay “The Perfect Game,” Chesterton fondly recalls a game of croquet, memorable not because he played it well (he describes himself as a “bungler”) but because of the pure enjoyment of the experience. Chesterton recounts how the simple act of playing croquet occasioned a humorous “semi-philosophical argument” with his opponent. It is a conversation born out of their delight in swinging a mallet to make improbable strokes. “How far you really are from the pure love of the sport – you who can play,” he admonishes his adversary, “It is only we who play badly who love the Game itself…. It is we the bunglers who adore the occupation in the abstract. It is we to whom it is art for art’s sake.” The richness of sports lies in amateur play with our neighbors, begetting laughter and a love of place. In a world obsessed with productivity and profit, play acts as a bulwark against their dehumanizing effects.

If, for Chesterton, play elevates us to a fuller life, C. S. Lewis recognizes its power to help us honor each other. For Lewis, it is because we are eternal that he professes: “We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously – no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.” As Lewis cared for his wife, Joy Davis, during her battle with cancer, the two played Scrabble – taking the game to new levels. They made their own rules, including using two Scrabble boards. Every language – including an imagined language – was fair game, and they filled the board with a whirlwind of words. From Lewis’s letters, we learn that these games were competitive. They played right up until her last days of life. For Lewis, participating in genuine play is spiritual nourishment, a reprieve in a deeply broken world. It is precisely for this reason that play gives us hope, even when looking clear-eyed at division and injustice. As a divine gift, it provides us with a joy that points to something greater than immediate struggles. Both Lewis and Chesterton held play in high regard because play is a foretaste of the ultimate liberation found in God’s kingdom, where human life is marked by joy, spontaneity, and communion, free from oppression or the pressures of performance. Play is an eschatological act, pointing to a future reality of perfect freedom and fulfillment.

There is no simple solution to society’s current divisions. The problem cannot be solved with better conversations alone, or by playing games together; there is a deeper wound plaguing us. But a step forward does not need to burden our already overscheduled lives. Play is not an arduous proposition – it is an invitation to imagine and rediscover childlike joy. If nothing more, it can be a source of nourishment for us and for others, an antidote to the weariness many people feel. So, maybe the next time you meet someone, instead of asking what they do for work, ask what games they play. You might end up finding someone to play your favorite game with, or, better yet, you may find yourself playing something new.