There was once a man who won every argument. He would argue anywhere he went with anyone he knew. He’d dominate debates, leave no room for agreement and quickly flesh out the flaws in his peers’ logic, which was promptly followed by them walking away with their tails tucked between their legs. Eventually, though, after all his success and triumph, he had no one to argue with, much less even talk with.
If you want to win an argument, don’t argue in the first place.
The last argument I had was with Doris, my friend and opinions editor of this fine paper. What started as a simple conversation about which brand of mac and cheese is the best quickly spiraled into a tempered debate about which Kardashian is the hottest — I stupidly made an analogy comparing the supremacy of Annie’s Mac and Cheese to that of Kim Kardashian. Without realizing it, the living room transformed into the UN, we turned into world leaders and the Annie’s Mac and Cheese that started the debate sat idly by as two idiots hurled subjective and inconclusive evidence at each other. Now, Doris thought Kylie Jenner was the hottest, and I, like any good old-fashioned patriotic American, defended Kardashian. The red, white and blue blood coursed through my veins, and I was ready to die on the hill I stood on.
However, five minutes into the debate, I realized I actually did like Jenner more than Kardashian, and that I don’t, in the slightest, care who Doris, much less anyone, thought was hotter. But what was I going to do? Admit I was wrong, and let Doris have the satisfaction of defeating me in battle?
Helllllll to the fuck no!!! What do I look like? We argued for the next 30 minutes.
Arguments are the verbal manifestation of war. People don’t debate the issue at hand, but rather, they debate you, which in turn makes it feel like you’re being attacked. All of a sudden, your opinion manifests itself into a part of your identity, and the notion of you being wrong convolutes itself into you being stupid and false about everything you believe is true. Your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, your heart starts racing and in turn, you stop acting rational.
How many times have you argued about something you couldn’t give the slightest shit about? Have you ever argued even after realizing you were wrong? More importantly, when was the last time you changed your mind, or changed the other person’s mind, after a heated argument?
If an argument is a war, why don’t we first engage in diplomacy? Before telling someone they’re wrong, why don’t we calmly offer our perspective? Without saying we’re right, why don’t we tell someone how we reached our conclusion? Before raising our voices, why won’t we consider whether this issue merits such attention? As it happens, nobody is more easily influenced when they’re comfortable, and no one is more stubborn when they’re confronted.
Doris and I weren’t really talking about the mac and cheese (everyone knows Annie’s is the best), and we didn’t really argue about the Kardashians (#RayJHitFirst), but you didn’t doubt it because you, like everyone else, engage in pointless debates for no reason. Maybe you, like me, have lost friends because of arguments you can’t even recall, or you, like I, get upset by the same stupid argument with your mom about an issue neither of you is willing to compromise on.
Nobody ever wins from arguments, but everyone learns from conversations. Without saying who is right and who is wrong, the next time you are confronted with a disagreement, remember that you can’t spell disagreement without an agreement first, and that you can’t change someone’s mind without being willing to also change yours.
Eli Klein is a senior majoring in political science.