For convincing people in person, I’ve always tried to follow the maxim “Don’t argue, discuss.” You can present arguments, but it’s important to frame them as “I think X because...” or “My take on this is X” and so forth, rather than “X is wrong because...” or “The usual solution to this is X, but that doesn’t make sense because...”
With online debates, it’s different because your actual interlocutor is only a small part of the audience to your arguments.
This suggests to me that Task #1 is finding ways for people to engage with your ideas without involving a status competition between you and them.
I think this is exactly right. In other words, people who don’t yet know how to leave themselves a line of retreat might, at the outset, need us to do it for them.
Having a “line of retreat”—feeling like the world won’t end if they change their mind—is part of it.
But the problem, here, is yet more general. A lot of people at my local meetup are people who I trust and like, and who accept the value of updating on evidence—and even show respect for someone changing their minds! Even in discussions with these friends, I notice fear and loss when I lose a friendly argument. Admitting that you are wrong is a loss of status, even if only your interlocutor is watching. Every argument has aspects of status competition. I notice all this in myself, and I suspect that freely admitting when I’m wrong is one of my strongest rationalist abilities.
In others, it’s pretty obvious. I can watch all this happen in their faces, when admitting that they’re wrong requires an active force of will.
So, if we can find some setting for truth-seeking arguments without the status competition, we improve how quickly we learn from each other. If somehow we can remove the status competition from a discussion we’re having with anybody, anywhere, then we remove significant barriers to communication.
Admitting that you are wrong is a loss of status, even if only your interlocutor is watching. Every argument has aspects of status competition.
It’s a loss of status, to whom?
I’ve heard that expressed before, but I am usually immensely impressed by someone who can see that they are wrong and admit it, particularly if I already think they are a smarty pants. Sure, you’ve lost the battle, which is often just a big swinging dick contest anyway, but you’ve won the war. Grasping an argument and being able to see that you are wrong is much more impressive than just having the right answer.
Think of it this way. If in fact your argument is more wrong, folding is the smart play. Doubling down on a bad hand is hardly status enhancing.
Oh, I agree entirely: if you are soundly convinced that you have been wrong, then you have become less wrong. You win!
It’s easy to say that, and relatively easy to see why it’s true. It’s much harder to convince all of the parts of myself that, when I see that I’m wrong, admitting it, and changing my mind, is a good thing. There is some part in-built part of me that views it as losing—as accepting a defeat in front of an opponent.
To be a little florid: this is a relatively weak agent in me, and I usually succeed in ignoring him. But I still hear him. I’d rather he shut up. He offers, essentially, a general counterargument against me changing my mind, and is thus an impediment to updating on new evidence.
This is true, and it can be an important thing to learn, but unfortunately most of us operate on heuristics, learned or innate, that urge us not to do this.
I think if you program yourself thoroughly enough with the idea that you are a judge of the evidence (like Ferris in this story), instead of being a soldier, you can change your mind in an argument without status loss. As soon as you start acting just a tiny bit like a soldier, defending one position and attacking another, you are going to feel pressure to do it more and more. You want to stop the cycle before it starts. If your friend introduces some new evidence or argument you’re unfamiliar with, say “that seems plausible”, and adjust your degree of belief in response to the argument immediately. You don’t lose status because you just weren’t aware of the argument.
Another idea is to work on learning to use phrases like “that seems plausible”, “I could see that”, “all right, I gotcha, [restate or extend opponent’s last statement here]”, etc. that let you change your public position without losing status.
I don’t know of anyone who argued someone else into atheism, ever. (Of course this may happen, but not so frequently.)
But I know plenty of people who were swayed by being a third party to a good discussion, or by reading someone else’s ideas as a passive observer.
This suggests to me that Task #1 is finding ways for people to engage with your ideas without involving a status competition between you and them.
For convincing people in person, I’ve always tried to follow the maxim “Don’t argue, discuss.” You can present arguments, but it’s important to frame them as “I think X because...” or “My take on this is X” and so forth, rather than “X is wrong because...” or “The usual solution to this is X, but that doesn’t make sense because...”
With online debates, it’s different because your actual interlocutor is only a small part of the audience to your arguments.
I think this is exactly right. In other words, people who don’t yet know how to leave themselves a line of retreat might, at the outset, need us to do it for them.
Having a “line of retreat”—feeling like the world won’t end if they change their mind—is part of it.
But the problem, here, is yet more general. A lot of people at my local meetup are people who I trust and like, and who accept the value of updating on evidence—and even show respect for someone changing their minds! Even in discussions with these friends, I notice fear and loss when I lose a friendly argument. Admitting that you are wrong is a loss of status, even if only your interlocutor is watching. Every argument has aspects of status competition. I notice all this in myself, and I suspect that freely admitting when I’m wrong is one of my strongest rationalist abilities.
In others, it’s pretty obvious. I can watch all this happen in their faces, when admitting that they’re wrong requires an active force of will.
So, if we can find some setting for truth-seeking arguments without the status competition, we improve how quickly we learn from each other. If somehow we can remove the status competition from a discussion we’re having with anybody, anywhere, then we remove significant barriers to communication.
It’s a loss of status, to whom?
I’ve heard that expressed before, but I am usually immensely impressed by someone who can see that they are wrong and admit it, particularly if I already think they are a smarty pants. Sure, you’ve lost the battle, which is often just a big swinging dick contest anyway, but you’ve won the war. Grasping an argument and being able to see that you are wrong is much more impressive than just having the right answer.
Think of it this way. If in fact your argument is more wrong, folding is the smart play. Doubling down on a bad hand is hardly status enhancing.
Oh, I agree entirely: if you are soundly convinced that you have been wrong, then you have become less wrong. You win!
It’s easy to say that, and relatively easy to see why it’s true. It’s much harder to convince all of the parts of myself that, when I see that I’m wrong, admitting it, and changing my mind, is a good thing. There is some part in-built part of me that views it as losing—as accepting a defeat in front of an opponent.
To be a little florid: this is a relatively weak agent in me, and I usually succeed in ignoring him. But I still hear him. I’d rather he shut up. He offers, essentially, a general counterargument against me changing my mind, and is thus an impediment to updating on new evidence.
It’s not just that you win by becoming less wrong.
My point was that at least with some people, you gain in status when you admit you were wrong.
This is true, and it can be an important thing to learn, but unfortunately most of us operate on heuristics, learned or innate, that urge us not to do this.
I think if you program yourself thoroughly enough with the idea that you are a judge of the evidence (like Ferris in this story), instead of being a soldier, you can change your mind in an argument without status loss. As soon as you start acting just a tiny bit like a soldier, defending one position and attacking another, you are going to feel pressure to do it more and more. You want to stop the cycle before it starts. If your friend introduces some new evidence or argument you’re unfamiliar with, say “that seems plausible”, and adjust your degree of belief in response to the argument immediately. You don’t lose status because you just weren’t aware of the argument.
Another idea is to work on learning to use phrases like “that seems plausible”, “I could see that”, “all right, I gotcha, [restate or extend opponent’s last statement here]”, etc. that let you change your public position without losing status.