The political discourse in recent years has been described as “toxic,” and it is that. But perhaps calling it “infectious” would be more to the point.

The vitriol that has permeated campaign speech and post-election debate inside the Beltway spreads, like a disease. Outbreaks have occurred during this most virulent, recent election cycle, invading the family space during routine times and at the holiday table.

Last week, long after that disease had infected someone in Illinois, the nation witnessed the ghastly result on a baseball diamond in Alexandria, Va.

James Hodgkinson, age 66, whose social media postings and protest signs showed his strong antipathy toward Republicans, had traveled to Washington, D.C., and ultimately ended up at the congressional GOP members’ baseball practice field on Wednesday.

He opened fire and wounded five people before he was fatally shot. He grievously wounded the No. 3-ranking member of the GOP House leadership, Rep. Steve Scalise; it was only because Scalise merited a Capitol guard detail that the mayhem wasn’t far worse.

Hodgkinson represented an extreme case, but one that demonstrates, in horribly stark detail, the potency of this poison, especially in an era of 24/7 news and social media outlets.

It even reaches Hawaii, which ordinarily keeps its distance from D.C. hurly-burly. But in the letters to the editor the Honolulu Star-Advertiser receives, and on Facebook and Twitter, people here vent their anger, too.

Hawaii has joined in the demonstrations that have fanned out nationally, even globally.

While they have been peaceful here, and while protest is part of the free-speech tradition Americans rightfully treasure, the flames have been known to burn too hot. Fueled by a venomous, almost abusive brand of rhetoric, the political divisions in this country have driven both sides to their respective corners.

And that cultural chasm, however passionately it began, is now destructive to the work of democratic governance.

Case in point: The issue of health-care reform in Congress has become not a matter of enacting good policy but an emblem of the ascendancy of one party over another. So if the Affordable Care Act was the product of the Democratic-run government, the American Health Care Act is the means by which Republicans exert their control.

Democrats don’t want to yield the signature achievement of the Obama administration, while President Donald Trump — and the entire GOP class — ran for re-election on its repeal. Many of them did so from the moment it was enacted in 2010; the president made “repeal and replace” a centerpiece of his campaign.

The GOP was unprepared for its capture of both legislative chambers and the White House, and never hammered out a cogent replacement.

Nor did it have the votes for a complete repeal, so the cobbled- together legislation it has offered does not chart a path toward better and more affordable health care. Instead, the focus has been on siphoning revenue from the ACA to enable tax reductions, seemingly with no regard to how many people will lose their coverage.

Nobody disputes the argument that the health-insurance markets set up under the ACA need a fix. But there’s been no collaborative effort to craft a solution, one that would earn enough support from both sides of the aisle to have a chance at success. The current push in the U.S. Senate has been going on behind closed doors; the House conducted not a single hearing on its version of the bill.

That’s been the product of political impasse, in this case and many others: utter stagnation.

The horrors of the Alexandria shooting elicited penitence from members of Congress, many of whom said themselves that political discourse had to soften.

In characteristic American fashion, the two parties came together to have the annual tradition of a friendly baseball game.

There were prayers for the wounded and cheers for a chance at reconciliation.

The fault lines are deep. There are still investigations targeting Russian interference on the 2016 election and its most incendiary element: the relationship between the Russians and members of the Trump campaign. So fighting will continue.

But a collaborative effort at least to fix what’s wrong with the health-care system would be a productive gesture. There is room for other small moves: agreement on infrastructure plans, and tax reform as well.

“Rhetoric” has become a term associated with the anger of this political moment in American history. It’s time to remember the classical meaning of the word. Aristotle would say that rhetoric is speech or writing aimed at persuasion. It’s the best form of argument.

By contrast, argument for its own sake leads to nothing but bloodshed, as we all can attest. America needs to recapture the art of rhetoric that persuades — which can, in fact, lead the nation to a better place.