When Consensus Meets the Range

There's a moment when you're holding a loaded rifle and someone next to you starts getting careless with their muzzle direction. Time slows. Your peripheral vision sharpens. Every instructor on the line turns toward the problem like iron filings toward a sudden magnetic field.

What happens next isn't a discussion.

No circle is called. No perspective is invited. No one asks the shooter how they feel about barrel awareness. There's no process for raising concerns or testing for group consensus about whether this person should stay or go. The range master walks over, takes the rifle, and says the words that end the conversation: "You're done for the day."

Exit through the gift shop. No hard feelings. Physics doesn't negotiate.

I thought about this while scrolling through a Facebook thread that had emerged under a charming illustration of cartoon cats demonstrating "Consensus Decision Making." The artist, Meredith Stern, had created a flowchart of cooperative process: discussion flows to proposal, proposal gets tested for consensus, concerns get addressed, modifications get made, and eventually—theoretically—action emerges from the democratic soup.

The cats looked so optimistic, passing their little proposal leaves around their circle like they were sharing catnip. Below them, actual humans were tearing each other apart.

The Mosh Pit of Good Intentions

"Gives too much power to the one person who could block," complained one commenter. "One person can drag the conversation out so long, people leave."

"Or you can use democracy," suggested another.

"This IS democracy," someone shot back.

"We have had zero years of democracy," declared a third voice.

"Democracy is a farce," countered a fourth. "Look where it's got us, the planet is being killed hourly."

And then, inevitably, someone brought up Gaza.

Within hours, a simple process flowchart had metastasized into an argument about the nature of democracy itself, the failure of civilization, and whether consensus decision-making was enabling genocide through inaction. The cats in the illustration maintained their serene expressions while the humans below them demonstrated exactly why this process so often breaks down.

No one could be sent home from a Facebook thread, so no one had to listen. Which meant, of course, no decision could be made about anything. The conversation became self-consuming, a perfect ouroboros of process critique eating its own tail. Not a conclusion. Just a digestion of disagreement.

The Invisible Consensus

Back at the range, something much more interesting was happening. The Project Appleseed instructors weren't using consensus—they were enforcing it. But the consensus had been achieved long before anyone loaded their first magazine.

Everyone who walked through that gate had already agreed to a set of non-negotiable principles: firearms are dangerous, safety trumps everything, some things are not up for debate. The real decision-making happened in the parking lot—long before the safety brief, before the first magazine was loaded, before anyone even stepped to the line.

This is consensus that works because it's consensus about consensus. Not the endless negotiation of the Facebook thread, but the prior commitment to a shared framework that makes actual decisions possible.

The range master doesn't need to facilitate a discussion about muzzle discipline because that discussion already happened—implicitly, collectively, and definitively—when everyone decided to show up. The authority isn't arbitrary; it's physics backed by mutual agreement. Break the rules, and you're not being oppressed, you're being reminded of what you already consented to.

Two Species of Decision-Making

What I witnessed were two entirely different species of human organization attempting to solve the same basic problem: how do groups of people make choices together?

The Appleseed model works through pre-negotiated authority. Hard boundaries, clear consequences, non-negotiable principles established in advance. It's efficient, effective, and completely intolerant of improvisation once the game begins. But it requires everyone to surrender their individual autonomy to collective safety—not just in theory, but in practice, with immediate consequences for non-compliance.

The Facebook model works through perpetual negotiation. Open-ended discussion, infinite perspectives, no clear exit conditions. It's inclusive, responsive, and almost always completely incapable of actually deciding anything. But it allows everyone to maintain their individual autonomy while participating in the performance of collective decision-making.

One model prizes clarity over comfort. The other prizes inclusion over outcome.

Both have their place, but they're solving different problems. The range is optimized for safety and competence in a context where the stakes are literally life and death. The Facebook thread is optimized for participation and voice in a context where the stakes are... well, unclear.

The Consensus Trap

Here's what the consensus cats don't tell you: most successful consensus happens when it's not really consensus anymore. It's the moment when discussion ends and shared commitment begins.

The Project Appleseed participants aren't continuously re-negotiating whether safety matters. They negotiated that once—when they decided to show up—and now they're executing on that agreement. The Facebook commenters, meanwhile, are trapped in eternal negotiation because they can't agree on what they're trying to accomplish in the first place.

Perhaps this is why so many consensus-based organizations end up talking themselves to death. They confuse the process with the product, mistaking discussion for decision-making. They get addicted to the theater of democratic participation while avoiding the work of actually committing to anything that might exclude someone or foreclose options.

Discussion is not decision-making.

The cats make it look easy because cats don't actually care about consensus. They care about naps, food, and occasionally knocking things off tables. Human consensus is much harder because humans care about being right, being heard, and being included in ways that often contradict actually getting things done.

The Physics of Agreement

Maybe the real lesson isn't about process at all. Maybe it's about recognizing that different contexts require different kinds of consensus, and that the most important decisions aren't made in the moment of formal decision-making but in the prior commitment to shared frameworks that make decisions possible.

The range works because everyone has already agreed that some things matter more than their personal comfort or individual preferences. The Facebook thread fails because no one can agree on what they're trying to accomplish, so every process becomes a proxy battle for fundamental worldview differences.

Physics doesn't care about your feelings, but it's remarkably good at building consensus among people who want to avoid getting shot. Social media algorithms care very much about your feelings, but they're remarkably bad at building consensus among people who want to solve actual problems.

The cats in the illustration will keep passing their proposals in circles, serene and optimistic, their tails curled just so, their ears twitching with consensus, while the humans below them argue about whether circles are oppressive. Meanwhile, somewhere else, people with loaded rifles are making decisions on safety, backed by shared commitment to consequences that are real.

Both models have their place. But only one of them will teach you to shoot straight.