Last week, broadcaster James Cook was confronted with a torrent of abuse outside the Conservative leadership hustings in Perth. He was called a “traitor,” a “rat” and a “scumbag.”

The pro-independence supporters that had gathered there threw eggs and spat at those attending the event.   

Earlier this month, a Liberal Democrat councillor, my fellow colleague and close friend, Kevin Lang, was grabbed by the neck and had insults hurtled at him by a nationalist voter as he distributed leaflets in his constituency.   

Something about this feels all too familiar.   

In 2014, up to 1,000 demonstrators took to Glasgow’s streets to protest outside the BBC, alleging that the network was biased in its coverage of the independence referendum and branding their political editor a “liar.”  

Beyond these arguably isolated events, an opinion poll found that a quarter of a million people believed their relationship with a friend or family member had been permanently damaged as a result of the referendum in 2014.   

There are too many people who want to force you to make a choice. You are a follower or a traitor. You want Scotland to split from the UK, or you want it to stay in the UK. You are a nationalist, or you are a unionist.   

But it hasn’t always been like this.   

In its early days, the Scottish Parliament delivered a kaleidoscope of successes, championing innovation and egalitarianism.

The Liberal-Labour coalition abolished dental and prescription fees, delivered a new electoral system, pioneered the smoking ban and extended Scotland’s international reputation.   

This potential is now being overshadowed by a tribal politics.

The SNP have the audacity to pretend that this isn’t the case; they say they offer an antidote to a Tory Westminster, a solution to the isolationism of Brexit, a shining example to the divided states of America.   

But if we peer through the looking glass, Nicola Sturgeon has created a regime powered by the same anger, the same limitations, the same rigid, binary options.   

Isn’t building a wall between Scotland and England just like building a wall between the UK and Europe? Isn’t the Brexit nationalism of the Tories a carbon copy of the SNP’s nationalism?

Aren’t the various nationalist fringe groups that have popped up over the years just like the intolerant right-wing groups across the pond and south of the border?   

I’m getting tired of playing spot the difference because, at the end of the day, there really isn’t much difference at all.   

Politics has always been something of a loud game. There’s a lot at stake, after all. It’s a far cry from a civilised drawing room; I’m not expecting people to drink from China cups and smile politely whenever there’s an unpleasant whiff of disagreement. Doubtless, people will voice their opinions proudly, passionately.  

But recent events should make us sit back, pause and remember what we’re trying to do. Because that, at least, is where we find some modicum of unity.   

Most people I know got into politics because they wanted to make a difference. Now, that may sound cringingly glib, but hear me out. We may disagree about how you make that difference and what difference you want to make, but the basic idea is the same.    

So let me say this in the spirit of an olive branch to independence-minded Scots.   

I understand why people are angry with the Conservative Government and I understand why some of the promises made by the SNP high command sound appealing, even though I disagree that breaking up the UK is the way to get there. 

Whether you are for or against independence, I believe that systemic change is needed. 

In the words of President Barack Obama: "Learning to stand in somebody else’s shoes, to see through their eyes, that’s how peace begins. And it’s up to you to make that happen.”  

With the Supreme Court's verdict on the prospect of another referendum on separation looming, constitutional matters are sure to play a sizeable role in the year ahead. But it is up to us those of us with a role in the public eye to make empathy and peace an integral part of our politics.  

What do you get when you throw an egg? Probably cruel laughter, possibly some tears and maybe an egg thrown back.  

But when you lend an ear, you will hear a voice. And when you hear a voice, you will approach an understanding.   

Millions are struggling to feed their families and heat their homes, drug deaths are some of the worst ever, our healthcare is crippling with backlog after backlog. That’s why Scotland needs a shared foundation, upon which we are all willing to hear each other out, so that real progress can be made.