RUTHFULLY YOURS

2. Can we talk politics at Thanksgiving dinner?

I want to go on the record: I like canned cranberry sauce, and I am at least 31% sure it is food.

At the same time, I believe if you shake cranberry sauce out of a can—with a big, disgusting THWUUUPPPPP —and leave it on a chair in the backyard until the year 3012, it will look exactly the same. By then the canned cranberry sauce may even be sentient and raising a family of its own.

Also: I think it’s OK to talk politics at Thanksgiving.

I realize the latter position is controversial. Many reasonable American families try at all costs to avoid politics at the Thanksgiving dinner table.

Some families actually have a rule: no politics at Thanksgiving, and it’s strictly enforced, like the way Mom made you and your spouse sleep in separate rooms until you were married. If you even say the word “politics,” the host will begin wildly waving his or her arms, as if a grizzly bear has rumbled into the kitchen.

Other families simply flee the table when Uncle Billy’s had a few cocktails and gets going about something he heard on talk radio.

It’s definitely safer to leave the conversation to more easygoing topics, like:

Weather.

Netflix shows we’re all watching.

Possible salmonella poisoning.

Serial killers loose in the neighborhood.

In-laws we don’t like.

Watching football has traditionally been an easy way to escape Thanksgiving political chitchat. The Detroit Lions were basically invented to help Americans avoid speaking to their families at Thanksgiving.

Thanks, Lions!

But even football is political this season. You’ve seen the headlines. You’ve read the tweets.

So what to do?

I say let it rip. Talk politics at Thanksgiving! It might just be the spice your family dinner needs.

There should be a bit of structure, however. Thanksgiving cannot be completely lawless. You’re at a table, not a steel cage Ultimate Fighting Championship Octagon (though Thanksgiving in a steel cage UFC Octagon would be pretty amazing).

Here are a few tips to have a juicy but safe political conversation at Thanksgiving:

Pick a specific time. You’re playing with fire if you just let your family talk politics all day, especially if there’s been an open cooler of beer in the kitchen since 10 a.m. Let your guests know there will be a specific period of time when political conversation is allowed. I suggest dessert, since it’s harder to maim a family member with a spoon.

Have conversations, not speeches. There needs to be a civil exchange of ideas. Give your take on the issues of the day, then listen to others. No screaming. No shouting anyone down. Basically, if your dinner table starts to sound like a cable news show, you need to stop.

No quoting “Something I read on Facebook.” Use trusted, legitimate news organizations as source material. Please do not quote the guy on Facebook who believes that cereal boxes contain CIA recording devices.

Listen to the elders. As crazy as America seems right now, it’s likely there’s someone at your table who remembers when things were a lot crazier. Give them an opportunity to explain how lucky you have it and to make you feel a little embarrassed and self-centered. When they’re done, help them to the couch, because they find all of you boring.

Listen to the kids, too. Adults have a tendency to gasbag and act like every political act deeply affects them. But it’s the kids who are really going to feel the impact of what’s happening today, so ask them to contribute to the conversation. You may have to take away their phones.

Give the family vegetarians a moment. They’ve had to watch you tear apart that poor murdered bird for an hour, so the least you can do is hear them out on factory farming.

No tweeting from Thanksgiving dinner.This goes for the White House, too.

Create a penalty box. This is extremely important. If you talk politics at Thanksgiving, you must be courteous. Anyone who is disrespectful will be asked to leave the dinner—and immediately go to the penalty box.

What is the penalty box? It’s that giant pile of dishes and disgusting greasy pans in the kitchen sink. Roll up your sleeves, blowhards. It’s going to take a couple of hours.

Write to Jason Gay at Jason.Gay@wsj.com