Of late, I have been frustrated by my inability to get people (you know, humans!) to see what I see. And what, to me, is inescapable logic. So I have been thinking a lot about persuasion.
We all do it. We all need it. We live in an age where persuasion seems less like an art and more like a contact sport. Everyone’s trying to score points, dominate, win. But what if persuasion — true persuasion — isn’t about winning at all? Oh where did that come from? I must have been at the mushrooms — but bear with me.
The Arrogance Trap
If you know me, you know I’ve spent much of my life trying to be one of the smartest people in the room. Not because I want to crush the other person’s argument or dazzle them into submission. Quite the opposite: I want to learn. I want to understand. I want to get to the best answer, and I figured the best way to do that was to arm myself with as much information as possible.
Remember my progression: data → information → knowledge → power.
But here’s the kicker — when you do that, you risk coming across as, well… an arrogant know-it-all. (I can almost hear the chorus of people who’ve wanted to say that to me but bit their tongues.) And this is where the fine art of persuasion starts to crack if you’re not careful. Because persuasion isn’t just about having the sharpest argument or the most bulletproof data.
It’s about connection. And connection requires humility. But I have to be careful. I want to share what I know sooner. I want people to have the full picture — just like I do. That is where I can lose the plot.
Humility: The Missing Ingredient
It’s not just about intellectual humility — the willingness to admit you might be wrong, or that someone else might have a better idea. It’s also about moral humility: recognizing that in these charged times, the person on the other side of the argument is probably not evil or stupid.
They’re just human. Like you. Like me. That’s why I do something that surprises people. I watch/listen to Fox News for an hour every week. Do I enjoy it? No. In fact, most of the time it drives me up the wall. But I do it because I need that perspective. (Plus, the ads are really revealing.) need to understand what others believe — not so I can tear it down, but so I can find the places where we can meet, where we can both be our best selves.
The Ongoing Struggle
It’s not easy. I fail at it constantly. My ego gets in the way. My temper flares (I know — probably from my father). My need to be “right” sometimes eclipses my desire — and obligation — to be kind. But I’m working on it.
And if I can offer any insight, it’s this: Persuasion starts not with winning hearts or minds, but with opening your own.
And walking with the dog really does help. She is a superb listener.
The Goal
I want to help others be their best selves — not by overpowering them with facts or logic, but by walking alongside them as we figure out what being the best moral humans really means. That’s my goal. I stumble. I fall. But I keep trying. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the true art of persuasion begins.
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