Most of us spend our days in office settings. When our work colleagues say that the temperature inside the buildings we occupy is either too warm or cold, we don’t tell them to grin and bear it. Invariably, we try to find a middle ground by adjusting the thermostat so no one feels too uncomfortable. In the same vein, given the infinite multiplicity of human preferences, politics should always be approached with extreme deference to the views and feelings of others.

The vast array of human predilections also makes governing of any nation, whether large or small, arguably the most complicated task on the planet. It is therefore a responsibility that should be assumed with great humility. We inhabit a fiendishly complex world so it would be quite foolish for any individual to think that they have sure answers to any problem.

There was indeed a time when Americans of all political persuasions were willing to make compromises to coexist peacefully with their fellow citizens. But increasingly, attitudes are changing. We have become so dogmatic in our beliefs, and so sure of ourselves, that we are unwilling to countenance any views that differ from our own. These days, we seem to be telling our compatriots that if they don’t like our way of life, or the manner in which we do things, they are welcome to leave the country.

The beauty of America is that it is a mature democracy that holds elections regularly. Political parties get frequent opportunities to present their arguments to the voting public. The chance offered to the winners of any electoral contest to test out their ideas over a set period of time should be seen as a privilege, and nothing more. If voters like what they are served, the incumbents are rewarded with subsequent terms in office. Officeholders are routinely replaced with new batches of governors who bring their own fresh proposals to be tried out because no single individual or political party has a monopoly on good ideas.

It is quite natural to celebrate any type of triumph. But I am often baffled by the over-exuberant cheering that occurs at winning-party headquarters when election results are declared. It gives the impression that people forget about the fundamental notion that serving in any political office is a privilege that should be accepted with great modesty. We ask losing parties to accept defeat with grace. I would argue that there is even greater responsibility on the part of victors to be magnanimous. Someone should be throwing penalty flags for unsportsmanlike conduct at raucous victory parties.

We should all be encouraged to watch the public speeches of Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell. His tone and demeanor exemplify the kind of humility that all of us should try to practice. Chairman Powell has openly admitted to being wrong when he initially thought that the spike in U.S. inflation that started three years ago would be transitory. He has also acknowledged that he and the Fed waited too long to raise interest rates to curb that inflation. Because of that humbling experience, he states at each public appearance these days that his policy actions are now heavily guided by incoming data, rather than any preconceived notions about how the U.S. economy is operating.

Chairman Powell’s humility stems from his knowledge that the U.S. economy is too complex for anyone to claim with certainty that they know what is happening under the hood of its engine at any given time. Aspiring officeholders would be wise to adopt that attitude. Because politicians are trying to earn our votes, it is understandable that many of them so vividly demonstrate such steadfast conviction in their beliefs. But they, and their supporters, should periodically lower their voices, the way Chairman Powell does, and make an effort to listen to what people on the other side are trying to say. After all, when they win elections and enter office, they are required to cater to the wishes of everyone, not just their adherents.

There is really no justification for the debilitating tension that has gripped American politics over the last decade or so. The regularity of elections, and the institutions that sustain that arrangement, make defeat at the ballot box in America something akin to losing a regular-season game in a competitive league. There is always a next game to compete in. Age and other considerations sometimes prevent beaten candidates from running again in future, meaning that there is a finality to political life for such contestants. But their parties live to fight another day.

I have spent parts of my life in dictatorships and illiberal democracies. In those places, quite often people are endlessly victimized by bad policies, with no power to do anything about it. In America, we are blessed with a political system that allows us to change governors relatively easily when we are unhappy with their service. We should learn to put things into perspective, and not fret so much about politics as if losing an election is a fatal experience.