A good debate is not a war. It's not even a tug-of-war. It's more like a dance that hasn't been choreographed, negotiated with a partner who has a different set of steps in mind.
Adam Grant, Think Again

Agonistic VS Friendly Dialectic

The Hierarchy of Disagreement, Paul Graham
Last week, when he and I were emailing about How Minds Change, Franco recommended Think Again: The Power of Knowing What you Don't Know (Adam Grant). I had a chance to read it and it's so compatible with both How Minds Change and The Phaedrus that I wanted to excerpt and "talk" about it a bit here. Alcidamas was right.

Last week we observed that the Socrates of The Gorgias is irritating, almost toxic. He says he wants to help his friends by correcting their false opinions because false opinions are the psychological equivalent of physical sickness, but his "friends" in the end are only alienated by the encounter and everyone watching is tired and bored.

In The Phaedrus Socrates seems a changed man, inspired, a pastoral version of his urban self, playful, even a bit flirty. He still wants to correct his friend, Phaedrus', opinions about what is the best kind of education, but his approach is vastly different and that difference is both important to the history of rhetoric and echoed in How Minds Change and Think Again. If someone disagrees with us, we get defensive; the more they contradict us, the more we dig in. If the spiral of disagreement goes on long enough we begin to suspect the morality or even the sanity of the person who disagrees with us. If we are non-confrontational, we might shut down. If we are confrontational, we may shout them down. Either way, no minds are changed.

To change someone's mind you need to start with common ground, establish rapport by identifying with the person's identity, values, and goals, and then, rather than making assertions and counter-statements, ask questions that lead him or her to open their mind to the possibility that perhaps they are not quite so committed to the belief in question as they first thought. All persuasion is self-persuasion. "When we ask genuine questions, we leave them intrigued to learn more. We don't have to convince them that we're right -- we just need to open their minds to the possibility that they might be wrong. Their natural curiosity might do the rest." (Grant, 113)

In The Phaedrus, Socrates establishes common ground by playfully demonstrating that both he and Phaedrus love the same things (speeches) and enjoy the same activities (composing and critiquing). He then encourages Phaedrus to read Lysias's speech. Phaedrus would rather have recited it but by getting him to read it, Socrates distances Phaedrus from the speech so when the speech is critiqued he doesn't feel like he is being critiqued, correction is less personal and therefore less alienating. In a sense he is indulging Phaedrus, making him feel good, which will make him more receptive to correction later on.

When Phaedrus finishes the speech, Socrates critiques it and then provides what both agree is a better one, not drastically different, just better organized. So he's not opposing but nudging Phaedrus in a different direction. Then Socrates gives the third speech, this one is far better than either of the other two, and thus he shows Phaedrus that just like him he loves a great speech but also that he can compose even greater ones than Lysias can. Then he and Phaedrus point out all the ways the best speech is better and all the ways the worst speech is worse and then, and only then, does Socrates help Phaedrus build a new perspective on what the best kind of learning is. It's dialectical philosophy, not sophistic rhetoric as Phaedrus thought when the conversation started.

As all three of these books tell us, the best way to change someone's mind is to be friendly in the best sense of the word, not a flattering agreeable person who goes along to get along, but someone who disagrees both vigorously and respectfully, leading the other person bit by bit to see a new way of seeing. Really horrible rhetors establish rapport by burning a scapegoat, the more imaginary the better since a bogeyman can't defend itself. A good friend, on this view, is one who helps the other be the best version of themselves possible and a good friendship is balanced in this way. Each makes the other better and together they become better than either can be alone.

Thus while dialectic can be adversarial, it ought not be. People who want to pick an intellectual fight in order to make themselves feel superior may "win" but they will never persuade. Rhetoric, on the other hand, need not be all flattery that leads to lazy thinking and stupefied people. It can use mutual pleasure and curiosity to lead someone to a better perspective, to see themselves as their best self, one who has a better opinion than the one they held previously and who is now open to the possibility that further evidence or experience or interaction with others might further improve their opinions. The best rhetoric makes a person better by showing them how to ask questions that make them want to learn more. The worst rhetoric just makes a person want to shout louder and louder: "I'm right damnit, and you're a ****ing @#$%#$%!!"


Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know Grant, Adam.