When you *know* you're right, and they're wrong

Over recent months in several countries we’ve seen life become increasingly difficult for the non-vaccinated; we’ve seen restrictions on leisure and recreation, on entry to public places, on the return to workplaces and even on the right to subsidised medical care.  These are tough political choices that evoke very strong reactions, and even in schools we’ve seen attitudes change as these measures come in.

My colleague Paul Sharry put his finger on something important when he wrote There is a real danger of a greater and greater social chasm caused by a heavy handed approach to anti-vaxxers. The great divide of ‘haves’ vs ‘have-nots’ used to be based upon material wealth, now it seems to be those who have / have not got 'sound reasoning'. Too much of our discourse provides satisfaction and comfort to those who 'get it' and a chance to sneer at the 'ignorant'. 

This is an ugly truth that generalises far beyond anti-vaxxers; that the certainty of believing that we are on ‘the right side’ of an argument can be dangerous because it can lead us to treat others badly.  In the worst cases, we can alienate decent people and we can end up damaging causes we care deeply about. So what might otherwise be a good instinct - say the desire for truth or justice - can be twisted into something  nasty when we are confronted by people with a different view - thus leading to the polarisation we increasingly see in various spheres today.  For me to think that I might be as much part of the problem as the folk I strongly disagree with (anti-vaxxers, for example) stops me short - especially when I can recognise impatience and irritation in myself.  Aldous Huxley was onto something when he observed the surest way to work up a crusade in favour of some good cause is to promise people they will have a chance of maltreating someone. To be able to destroy with good conscience, to be able to behave badly and call your bad behaviour 'righteous indignation' — this is the height of psychological luxury, the most delicious of moral treats.

So what’s the right way to engage with people whose views you  vigorously disagree with? Adam Grant, in Think Again, distinguishes between being right and being persuasive.   Coining the term logic bully for  someone who mistakenly and foolishly overwhelms with rational arguments, he suggests that rigorously logical argument is rarely useful because exhausting someone in argument is not the same as convincing them.  So the approach should be a familiar one to any teacher or parent: be curious rather than be judgemental.

Here’s a wonderful example - the Flat Earth Rising video (embedded above, link here) takes a sympathetic approach that seeks to understand why the flat-earth belief still survives, when there is so much evidence to the contrary.  While correctly not giving an inch of intellectual ground,  journalist James Bullock’s approach is absolutely humane, absolutely respectful and less likely to cause people to entrench their views further.  The approach is one we can all learn from, and in schools it is entirely mirrored by some contemporary thinking in the sometimes contentious Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice arena.  In their anti-racist work, educators Shafe Safir and Jamilla Duggan, suggest: we are attempting to call somebody in and up to their full potential. Not to call them out.... Inside our school buildings, relying on calling out strategies runs the risk of leaving behind a trail of distress and fear that does not serve our greater Mission. Think of it like constantly living in fight mode among the fight, flight or freeze responses.  [There is a] a fourth path rooted in a moral imperative to address oppression while building the capacity of the people around us. 

The subtle art of persuasive debate is one that’s often overlooked, but if we are to make progress as individuals, as organisations and as societies then that has to change, because the alternative ways to resolve differences are ugly and dangerous, as we see from the news all too often. If we are really interested in changing people's minds, rather than anything else, then we need to resist the feeling of righteous anger that can lead to condescension or arrogance. The most persuasive people live the virtue of humility, because it's hard to change someone's mind when you feel morally or intellectually superior to the people you are talking with.  And most persuasive people are persuasive because they resist the smugness that can accompany certainty.  As journalist Megan McArdle memorably put it the iron law of communication [is that] the better your message makes you feel about yourself the less likely it is that you are convincing anyone else.

References

With thanks to Paul Sharry and Ellie Alchin for ideas and conversation on this topic.

• Brazil, R. (2021) Fighting flat-Earth theory. PhysicsWorld.
• Mc Ardle, M. (2015) How to win friends and influence refugee policy. The Oregonian.
• Safir, S. and Dugan, J. (2021) Street Data. Corwin Press
• Warzel, C. (2021) Don’t Go Down the Rabbit Hole. New York Times