Book Review: Collaborating with the Enemy, by Adam Kahane

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we interact with others, especially when our values, interests, or beliefs clash. It feels like the world is constantly asking us to collaborate—with people we don’t agree with, don’t trust, or don’t even like. Whether it’s a tense workplace meeting, a divided family discussion, or the polarized landscape we see in politics, the question looms: how do we move forward together when we can’t seem to find common ground?

This is the space where Adam Kahane’s book, Collaborating with the Enemy, thrives. From the very first page, the book doesn’t offer comfort or easy answers. Instead, it holds up a mirror to the messiness of collaboration and asks you to sit with it. For me, that was both unsettling and profoundly liberating.

Kahane introduces the idea that collaboration isn’t about everyone holding hands and agreeing—it’s about moving forward even when you don’t. This struck me as both painfully obvious and completely counterintuitive. Haven’t we all been conditioned to think that working together requires consensus, alignment, and harmony? Yet Kahane invites us to embrace a different path, one he calls “stretch collaboration.”

This concept, at first, made me squirm. Stretch collaboration requires giving up control, accepting uncertainty, and working through tension rather than avoiding it. It means acknowledging that the person on the other side of the table—whether it’s a coworker, a competitor, or a neighbor—might never see things your way. And that’s okay. Progress doesn’t require perfect agreement; it requires engagement.

Collaboration is not about agreement. It is about engaging with the other—respectfully, creatively, and with a willingness to keep learning.

I couldn’t help but connect these ideas to the world around me. Here, in Romania, we’re grappling with a political climate that feels fractured, even broken. The recent annulment of the first round of presidential elections has left many questioning the state of our democracy. How do you collaborate in a system where trust seems nonexistent? Kahane doesn’t offer specific solutions for situations like this, but his framework feels eerily relevant.

He writes about how collaboration often involves stepping into the unknown, a place where none of the usual rules apply. In these moments, you’re not trying to win or force agreement; instead, you’re co-creating something entirely new. This resonated deeply with me. It reminded me that even when systems fail, people can still find ways to work together—through curiosity, vulnerability, and a willingness to experiment.

One of the most transformative ideas in the book is that collaboration doesn’t eliminate conflict; it works through it. Kahane describes conflict not as a barrier but as a bridge to deeper understanding and creative solutions. This hit close to home. I’ve often avoided conflict, seeing it as something to sidestep rather than embrace. But Kahane’s stories—of peace negotiations in war-torn regions or tense corporate partnerships—show that conflict can be fertile ground for growth.

Conflict is not a problem to be solved, but a condition to be worked with.

There’s one passage that stayed with me, where Kahane talks about letting go of the need for control. He says that when we try to control a situation, we often end up stifling the very creativity and connection we need to move forward. Instead, he urges us to embrace fluidity, to adapt to the unexpected, and to trust the process—even when it feels uncomfortable.

This idea scared me. It also gave me hope. Because if we’re willing to let go of control, if we’re willing to sit with uncertainty and discomfort, we might just find ourselves in a better place—not because we forced it, but because we allowed it to emerge.

Reading Collaborating with the Enemy wasn’t easy. It forced me to confront my own biases and habits, to rethink what it means to work with others, and to question whether I’m really as open-minded as I like to believe. But it also left me with a sense of possibility.

We’re not going to solve every problem or heal every rift. But if we’re willing to engage—even with people we don’t like or trust—we might create something new, something better. It won’t be perfect, and it won’t be comfortable. But it will be real. And in a world as divided as ours, that feels like a step worth taking.

If you’ve ever struggled with a difficult collaboration, or if you’re simply trying to navigate the complexity of human relationships, I can’t recommend this book enough. It doesn’t offer quick fixes or simple answers. Instead, it offers a way to think differently about conflict, connection, and the messy, beautiful work of moving forward together.