Narrator: October 1962. Deep in the North Atlantic, a Soviet submarine armed with a nuclear torpedo is cornered by a US warship. The American vessel drops depth charges, not as an attack, but to force the sub to surface. Below, cut off from Moscow, the submarine's captain, Valentin Savitsky, is convinced World War III has begun. He gives the order: "Arm the nuclear torpedo. We will sink them all." The political officer agrees. But a launch requires a third key. That key belongs to Vasili Arkhipov, the second-in-command. In a moment of unimaginable pressure, with the fate of the world in his hands, Arkhipov does the one thing no one expected: he pauses. He refuses to authorize the launch. He argues, he reasons, and he calms the captain down. A single, considered choice in the face of overwhelming conflict averts a global nuclear catastrophe.

This terrifying moment raises a fundamental question: how do we deal with our deepest differences without destroying everything we hold dear? In his book, Possible: How We Survive and Thrive in an Age of Conflict, world-renowned negotiator William Ury provides a powerful answer. Drawing on decades of experience mediating conflicts from corporate boardrooms to civil wars, Ury presents a practical pathway for transforming seemingly impossible confrontations into opportunities for connection and growth.

Narrator: Ury argues that the first and most critical move in any conflict is not to engage the other side, but to manage oneself. He calls this "going to the balcony"—a metaphor for taking a mental step back from the stage of conflict to gain perspective. From this vantage point, one can observe the situation with calm and clarity, rather than reacting impulsively from the heat of the moment. The work of transforming conflict is an inside-out process; it begins with mastering one's own emotions and reactions.

Ury experienced this firsthand while mediating in Venezuela in 2003. The country was on the brink of civil war, polarized between supporters of President Hugo Chávez and his opponents. During a midnight meeting, Chávez launched into a furious, thirty-minute tirade against Ury and his assessment of the situation. Instead of reacting defensively, Ury went to his mental balcony. He remained silent, listened, and focused on his objective. When Chávez finally exhausted his anger, he turned to Ury and asked, "So, what should I do?" Having avoided the trap of reaction, Ury was able to make a simple, creative suggestion: a Christmas truce, to give everyone a break from the conflict. To everyone's surprise, Chávez embraced the idea, announcing it on national television. By choosing not to react, Ury created an opening for a de-escalation that pulled the country back from the edge.

Narrator: Once on the balcony, Ury explains that two crucial perspectives become available: zooming in and zooming out. Zooming in means looking past the stated positions of each side to uncover their underlying interests—the core needs, fears, and desires that truly motivate them.

This is powerfully illustrated by the story of Abilio Diniz, a Brazilian business leader locked in a bitter dispute with his French partner. The conflict had consumed his life. When Ury asked him what he truly wanted from the negotiation, Diniz listed his demands. But Ury persisted, asking what he wanted for his life. After a long pause, Diniz answered with a single word: "Liberdade." Freedom. This wasn't about a business clause; it was about reclaiming his life. By zooming in on this core interest, the entire conflict was reframed, allowing for a resolution that gave Diniz the freedom he craved.

Conversely, zooming out means seeing the bigger picture—all the stakeholders and the full context of the conflict. Ury learned this lesson from a major failure early in his career. He and a colleague mediated a dispute at a Kentucky coal mine, successfully getting union and management leaders to sign an agreement. They were triumphant, until the miners themselves overwhelmingly voted it down. The mediators had failed to zoom out and see the most important stakeholders: the rank-and-file miners, whose deep distrust of management was the real issue. The failure taught Ury that you must always understand the entire system, not just the two parties at the table.

Narrator: After mastering the internal work, the next victory is in the work between the parties. Ury borrows a concept from the ancient strategist Sun Tzu: "Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across." In negotiation, this means making it as easy and attractive as possible for the other side to agree. Instead of pushing them into a corner, you build a bridge for them to walk across to a mutually beneficial solution. This is about attraction, not coercion.

The quintessential example of this is the 1978 Camp David Accords. After thirteen days of intense negotiation, Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian President Anwar Sadat were at a complete deadlock. Both were ready to leave. President Jimmy Carter, acting as mediator, refused to give up. He and his team employed what they called the "one-text process." They stopped trying to get the leaders to make concessions to each other. Instead, they listened deeply to both sides' interests, drafted a single document, and asked each leader to critique it. They went through twenty-three drafts, incorporating feedback and slowly building a proposal that addressed the core needs of both Egypt and Israel. This process served as a golden bridge, allowing Begin and Sadat to move toward an agreement without feeling like they were surrendering. It made saying "yes" possible, ending thirty years of war.

Narrator: Ury's third victory involves the work around us. He argues that conflicts rarely involve just two sides. There is almost always a "third side"—the surrounding community, including friends, family, allies, and neighbors. Engaging this third side can transform the entire environment of a conflict, shifting it from a destructive battle to a constructive dialogue. The third side acts as a kind of social immune system, containing and healing conflict.

This ancient human wisdom is vividly practiced by the Kua people of the Kalahari Desert. In a society where poison arrows make any dispute potentially lethal, the community immediately intervenes when tempers flare. Relatives and friends don't take sides; they take the side of peace. They hide the poison arrows and bring the disputants into a community-wide discussion. They remind the parties that the conflict is not just theirs, but a problem for the whole community. By hosting the conflict within a circle of concern, the third side makes it possible to find a resolution that restores social harmony. This demonstrates a fundamental truth: a conflict is much harder to sustain when the surrounding community actively works to resolve it.

Narrator: Engaging the third side can be taken a step further through what Ury calls "swarming." This is the process of mobilizing a critical mass of ideas, influence, and resources to surround a conflict from all sides. It is a concentrated, collaborative effort to interrupt destructive patterns and generate new possibilities.

To tackle the 2017 North Korea nuclear crisis, Ury and his colleagues assembled a "SWAT team for peace." This diverse group of volunteers—including lawyers, military veterans, and storytellers—swarmed the problem. They used design thinking to deeply understand the perspectives, motivations, and decision-making circles of both President Trump and Kim Jong Un. They interviewed experts, analyzed past statements, and brainstormed unconventional pathways to de-escalation. This intensive effort generated a stream of advisory memos that were shared with key officials in Washington, Seoul, and Pyongyang. While it's impossible to draw a direct causal link, their work in building access, credibility, and trust helped create an environment where a diplomatic off-ramp became possible. Swarming demonstrates that by uniting diverse stakeholders and mobilizing their collective intelligence, a dedicated third side can help open the path to possible even in the most dangerous global conflicts.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from William Ury's Possible is that conflict itself is not the problem. Conflict is natural and even necessary for growth. The true problem is our destructive approach to it. Ury provides a transformative alternative: a learnable skill set that shifts our approach from adversarial to collaborative. The path to possible—going to the balcony, building a golden bridge, and engaging the third side—is a practical guide for unlocking our full human potential to deal with our differences constructively.

The book ends with the inspiring story of Ury's daughter, Gabi, who was born with a condition that severely affected her spine and legs. Told she couldn't run with her volleyball team, a coach asked her to do a plank instead. She held it for twelve minutes. This sparked an idea: she would try to break the world record. On her sixteenth birthday, she held a plank for one hour and twenty minutes, shattering the previous record. When asked how she did it, she said, "I see it differently, and that makes all the difference." This is the essence of the possibilist mindset. It challenges us to look at our own conflicts—in our families, our workplaces, and our world—and ask a simple yet profound question: What if we, too, could see it differently? What impossible situations might suddenly become possible?