We all want to know that we’re right. Many times, we’ll go to great lengths to prove exactly how right we are. We’ll argue with a spouse, a friend, a stranger, someone on the internet, a talking head on the TV screen, a mentor, a leader, a boss, a co-worker, a customer, or even the UPS man. How long does an argument need to take in order for our view to sink in to the opposing side of the argument?
I wish I knew enough math to formulate an equation giving the answer. I like to think that it’s approximately 1.73 hours of arguing for every point that needs to be proven. So if you’re arguing online, it takes a lot longer because of the lag. You type. I type. Point. Counterpoint. Someone else interjects. Get back on topic. Internet lag. Walk to go to the bathroom. Catch up on reading that last wall of text. Man. This is taking a while. It probably takes about 4 hours of online arguing to equate to one hour of real-life arguing. Probably longer since sometimes you have to make a point before work and follow up to the counterpoint after work. That’s a lot of time to prove to someone that you’re right and they’re wrong. But the gratification will only carry to a certain extent, because they won’t come out and admit that you were right. Oh, no. They’re much too hard-headed for that. That would take at least 2 more days. We usually tucker out before then. The truth is that most people don’t have the time, energy, determination, or focus to follow that through to completion, so most arguments online end in either a stalemate, a draw, or all-out war.
So how do you flex your “right” muscles hard enough so that nobody even dares to step up to you again? I found the secret: I call it a patent on the truth, and have determined that I don’t hold the patent.
There is an absolute truth, and absolute right, and an absolute wrong in every argument. How prideful do I have to be to think that I hold the absolutes in every situation? The first step is to be honest with yourself in what is an assumption and what is fact. The second step is to be open to the fact that you’re probably wrong about some things. I actually enjoy it when someone can prove me wrong. Instead of attempting to prove myself right, I’m asking someone else to prove me wrong. Still, no matter how long an argument may last, I can never seem to be proven wrong. Why is that? Why is everyone so inferior to me? Why can no one see the things that I see, the way that I see them? (/sarcasm)
It’s likely because we see everything through our own filters. Filters which were created through our childhood, family of origin, life experiences, and all sorts of other determining factors. It’s how we have optimists and pessimists. No matter how much I argue, I can never put my filters on someone else’s eyes. I either have to be content with that or continue to be disappointed in everyone else. I have filters that create a world around me that no one else will ever see. It’s truly magnificent. It’s my own bubble of awesome that no one else can penetrate. You can’t prove me wrong in here and I can’t show you how I view the color blue. But it’s fine because that’s how I like things.
What happens if we step outside of our bubble? It’s kind of scary out there. Viewing things through another person’s perspective can be intimidating – maybe even frightening for some. If you take a moment to get to know someone at a real level (their fears, hurts, pains, joys, dreams, hopes, achievements, and insecurities), then you might be less inclined to prove them wrong in the first place. You might even be more aware of your own level of wrong to the point that you won’t enter the argument at all. Perspective matters, and each person has their own for a reason. It’s not my job to change your perspective. The best thing I could do for you would be to phrase things as a question: “What if things were this way? How would that change things in this situation? How would we respond if all of a sudden they changed this or that? What would it mean if the sky was suddenly pink?”
That’s the most humble, enlightening approach you can take. All of the great philosophers simply asked questions. Sometimes they asked the right questions, and sometimes they asked the wrong questions. Sometimes they got answers, and sometimes they did not. But what they all had in common was the pursuit of knowledge. It’s actually what Plato determined at the end of his book, The Republic, as true justice.
So pursue knowledge. Enter a discussion with the expectation to learn. Don’t go into an argument with the determination to come out the victor. Start speaking with humility and be quick to admit you might be wrong about something. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re the only one that’s right about everything. Even if it’s something you’re especially knowledgeable, well-versed, or experienced in. With just a little bit of humility and willingness to learn, even a fool can teach you something new about a topic or subject.
Lastly, when you truly are right, it’s important to recognize that sometimes you do yourself the biggest favor by not entering the argument to begin with. Just rest assured knowing that you’ve got the truth, and understand that there may be people who will never understand your truth to begin with. You can’t win everyone over. Learn to know the difference.
The Imperfect View 
Reblogged this on The Imperfect View.