When my parents were dating, Mom came over to visit Dad's family. As they was conversing over dinner, Dad looked over and noticed how Mom looked pale and stricken. The gentleman he was, he brought her into the kitchen and said, "Mary Lou, what's wrong? You look like you're going to be sick." She replied, "Why are you guys arguing? You've been squabbling through the entire meal!" Dad didn't know what she meant. "This is just how we talk."
Arguing runs in the family. I love a good debate. I like arguing when I'm drinking. I like arguing when I'm sober. I like arguing with coworkers, friends, and especially family. It's a hunt for me, an adventure to find the truth. Or at least, it should be. For most of my life, it was more like a battle. An assault to slay the opponent.
An argument goes like this. Person A makes an assertion. Person B disagrees with the assertion. Person A attempts to find the source of disagreement, to which Person B elaborates their position. A foundational idea either supporting or refuting the initial assertion is eventually exposed, and both people learn something about themselves and the other person.
This is never how arguments go, of course. Person A will make an assertion and Person B will spit vitriol, demonizing and insulting Person A. How could Person A possibly be so stupid to believe this stupid idea? What an idiot, him and everyone who thinks like him. If only everyone would just think exactly like me, everything would be better. Person A feels compelled to defend himself, and spits even more vile vitriol back, and the whole conversation devolves into senseless name-calling and hatred on both sides.
If you don't believe me, I can simply point to your Facebook feed where any number of your friends, right now, are bickering with other people about how much they love or hate political agenda X or candidate Y. It inevitably ends up with both sides locked in a screaming match.
Have you ever seen an argument on the Internet end with either party saying something like, "Boy, I learned so much from that, thank you for explaining your reasoning." Or, "That's such an interesting point, I'll have to think more about that." I've rarely even seen arguments end like this in real life. Heck, I'm not sure I've said anything like this when I was younger. Why do arguments collapse into this?
People have a natural tendency for rapid intuition. We hear or see something, and without even having to think about it, we make all sorts of inferences. When the cashier scowls at me as he hands me my change, I assume he's a horrible, angry person. When the homeless man asks me for money, I assume he's a druggie loser. Not consciously, I mean. It's just rapid intuition. It's just as likely the cashier was having a bad day because his manager is making him work on Christmas, or the homeless man is just a guy down on his luck and needs the money for a haircut.
You see, this rapid inference is the root of anger. We judge too quickly, and this makes it easy to paint the other person as mean, or bitter, or stupid. And once the other person is mean, or bitter, or stupid, it's easier to demonize them. Everybody hates an evil person, it's simple. Just make your opponent evil, and you win by default. Turn the other guy into Sauron, and you get to be the white knight in shining armor, charging on the attack.
But it's difficult to argue with someone you respect. It's difficult to argue with another human being who just also wants what's best for other human beings. You don't get to turn them into a monster to slay. You have to treat them like an equal. You may even have to treat them as a superior. And now you've cultivated an environment where real conversation, real arguments can take place.
The foundation for all good arguments is empathy. And rapid intuition destroys empathy. Rapid intuition lets us create a visage of the other person in our heads for us to attack and destroy. Empathy draws us out of ourselves, into the other. Empathy demands something of us. It drives us out from the center of the universe, and into a new world filled with other real people. Not monsters to slay, not demons to exorcise, but people.
I used to argue without empathy. And it was miserable. I would attack the person's points viciously. It was about winning, not understanding. And to win, I would never give an inch. Common ground was the battleground. There was no common ground, only scorched earth. But I would inevitably find myself arguing against some small point I agreed with. How could I agree with it when I painted the other person as a monster? I'm not a monster. I don't agree with monsters.
Maybe empathy enables common sense. Maybe when I don't paint people as monsters, I can say things like, "Actually, that's a really good point. I never thought of it that way." Maybe I can even connect more deeply with other people. And isn't that the entire point of the thing?
I'm not saying to concede your point more easily, or Heaven forbid, not argue. I'm simply saying the next time you get into an argument, I want you to stop and think for a second. Just a second. I want you to be curious about the other person. I want you to wonder, "Why do they think this way? What makes this argument work for them? Why do they see the world the way that they do?" And in the meanwhile, ask yourself, "Why do I think this way? What makes my argument work for me? Why do I see the world the way that I do?"
