Welcome to the first edition of The Thing Beneath the Thing, where I explore what’s really going on beneath the stories and strategies that shape our lives.
Sometimes it’ll be reflective.
Sometimes it’ll be about strategy.
Sometimes it might even make you laugh.
My hope is that every week you’ll leave seeing something a little differently than you did before.
So here’s the first one.
Fair warning…it begins with explosive diarrhea.
Comedian Josh Johnson has a stand-up routine about the nationwide recall of contaminated produce (think iceberg lettuce). As someone who eats salad almost every day, that got my attention fast.
But what caught my attention even more wasn’t the contaminated lettuce.
It was what happened next.
People from every political persuasion, every cable news network, every corner of the country all seemed to agree on one thing.
Explosive diarrhea.
As Josh tells it, people who can hardly agree on the weather all agreed on this one experience.
His storytelling is masterful. He doesn’t rush to the punchline. Instead, he patiently builds the story, inviting us to recognize ourselves in the absurdity. The laughter comes not just because it’s funny, but because it’s true.
After a few belly laughs, I found myself asking a different question.
Why did this resonate so deeply?
It wasn’t because explosive diarrhea is funny. (Well…maybe a little.)
It wasn’t because everyone suddenly agreed on politics.
It was because, for one brief moment, we stopped being liberals or conservatives.
We were simply human beings.
Explosive diarrhea doesn’t care who you voted for.
It levels us all.
It’s part of the human condition—a shared experience almost everyone understands.
And that got me thinking about my own work.
For years, I’ve worked at the intersection of utilities, environmental organizations, regulators, Tribal communities, consumer advocates, and elected officials. These groups often came to the table with very different ideas about how to solve our energy challenges.
Over time, I learned that progress rarely started with debating solutions.
It started by finding what was already true.
Everyone wants their children to breathe clean air.
Everyone wants the lights to stay on.
Everyone wants energy they can afford.
Those weren’t policy positions.
They were shared human values.
The disagreements—the positions, the talking points, the politics—were about how to get there.
That’s the beauty of Josh’s story.
He never tells us how to fix the produce problem.
He simply shines a light on an experience everyone recognizes.
In doing this, he creates something that’s increasingly rare today:
Common ground.
I wonder what would happen if more of our conversations started there?
Instead of defending our opinions, what if we became curious?
Instead of trying to convince, what if we first sought to understand?
What if we looked for the human experience underneath the argument?
People rarely unite around positions.
They unite around shared humanity.
Maybe that’s the real lesson hidden inside one of the funniest comedy routines of the year.
The next time you find yourself in the middle of a difficult conversation—at work, around the dinner table, or in your community—pause before making your point.
Ask yourself: What is the “explosive diarrhea” here? What is the undeniable human experience we already share?
Because that’s often where real conversation begins.
Let’s get explosive on this. Shall we?
Carolyn
PS: If you didn’t catch Josh’s bit, here it is. So good…