On Why I May Not Like Arguing as Much as I Thought I Did
I've said many, many times before that I like to argue about politics and ethics and other murky stuff. However I'm not sure my idea of the word arguing is the same as some people's. I like to hear other people's opinions. I want to know why people think what they think. It's fascinating. Depending on their reasons and their delivery, I may privately respect or despise them; whether they agree with me really does not affect my respect/despise decision (e.g. there are some seriously dumb reasons for supporting green initiatives). To be ungenerous to myself, I also like to tell other people my opinions, and I am perfectly willing to hear theirs if it means they get to hear mine.
And I like to pass on what I learned. For instance, my hippie aunt who works with very poor single mothers as a social worker once told me all of her reasons for supporting broad abortion rights. I didn't agree with everything she said, yet she made some very good points. One day at BYU, someone said in response to my assertion that both sides of almost every argument have good reasons, "But what about abortion? How could anyone have a good reason for killing babies?" After explaining to this poor sheltered young woman that prochoicers are not satanic baby-killers but are genuinely concerned about the well-being of babies and mothers—with quotes from Aunt Alice—I felt like I had opened a door in her mind. I didn't convince her to start up an abortion clinic or anything, I just pointed out that most issues are grayer than political commentators want us to believe.
After taking turns expressing ourselves, if we find common ground or wiggle room or that one party has no strong opinion about something but is interested, I like to keep talking.
On the other hand, if one person, like my mother, just starts to repeat herself over and over, her voice rising louder and louder, and she will never convince me and I will never convince her, I like to change the subject. What's the point? She's not saying anything new. The subject rarely will personally affect us anyway. If that fails, I walk away. I don't like being yelled at. I also don't like being guilted (actual quote: "You always walk away when I'm talking to you. You've done it two or three times in the past month! I listened to what you had to say, so would you please listen to me now!") into spending over an hour repeating, "Yes, you think isolationism would help the economy, and I think it would hurt it, even though you're right that it would be more 'fair' if our guest engineer policy was the same as Singapore's. We disagree. I don't think either of us is going to change our minds," over and over. My head hurts. So do my shoulders. After an hour and change I got up and said, "Okay, we've been over this a thousand times. Can I please go now?" Then I stood up and walked away. I guess I'd finally been attentive enough to be allowed to leave without rebuke.
She did get in the last word though, "But it's unfair!"
And I like to pass on what I learned. For instance, my hippie aunt who works with very poor single mothers as a social worker once told me all of her reasons for supporting broad abortion rights. I didn't agree with everything she said, yet she made some very good points. One day at BYU, someone said in response to my assertion that both sides of almost every argument have good reasons, "But what about abortion? How could anyone have a good reason for killing babies?" After explaining to this poor sheltered young woman that prochoicers are not satanic baby-killers but are genuinely concerned about the well-being of babies and mothers—with quotes from Aunt Alice—I felt like I had opened a door in her mind. I didn't convince her to start up an abortion clinic or anything, I just pointed out that most issues are grayer than political commentators want us to believe.
After taking turns expressing ourselves, if we find common ground or wiggle room or that one party has no strong opinion about something but is interested, I like to keep talking.
On the other hand, if one person, like my mother, just starts to repeat herself over and over, her voice rising louder and louder, and she will never convince me and I will never convince her, I like to change the subject. What's the point? She's not saying anything new. The subject rarely will personally affect us anyway. If that fails, I walk away. I don't like being yelled at. I also don't like being guilted (actual quote: "You always walk away when I'm talking to you. You've done it two or three times in the past month! I listened to what you had to say, so would you please listen to me now!") into spending over an hour repeating, "Yes, you think isolationism would help the economy, and I think it would hurt it, even though you're right that it would be more 'fair' if our guest engineer policy was the same as Singapore's. We disagree. I don't think either of us is going to change our minds," over and over. My head hurts. So do my shoulders. After an hour and change I got up and said, "Okay, we've been over this a thousand times. Can I please go now?" Then I stood up and walked away. I guess I'd finally been attentive enough to be allowed to leave without rebuke.
She did get in the last word though, "But it's unfair!"
posted by Bethylene at 23:44
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