Do You Always Need To Be Right?
Do You Always Need To Be Right?
Most companies adopt some variation of “the customer is always right” in their policies. And the reason is obvious, right? If a customer leaves an interaction feeling shown up, out-debated or foolish, they tend to judge the interaction as a “negative experience”. And people may choose not to go back to (or to continue to drop money on) a place that provides them with negative experiences.
Naturally, people prefer to spend time in places that make them feel smart, worthwhile and valued.
The same goes for relationships.
Some personality types (like mine) can enjoy engaging intense debates in a spirit of friendship. For some though, aggressive behavior and devil’s advocate turnabouts feel just like bad customer service. When people walk away, they feel like more exhausted, frustrated and lesser versions of themselves.
Who maybe don’t want to come back. Or who, if they do return, come back bitter.
It makes me pause to ask myself: Why would anyone believe we value humans (or for those of us in the faith–why would anyone believe we prize Christ as a moral example of love, willing to lay down life for others), if we ourselves are routinely unwilling to lay down something small–the chance to challenge, refine, rethink and upstage others on the small stuff.
I know. I know. Some of us are ready with an argument even here.
Is it really doing people a service to let them carry their logical fallacies to the grave?
People should be stronger than that. It’s not my fault if they aren’t confident in bringing their ideas to the table.
All the more reason people like us should give this a whirl.
Go ahead. Adopt a conscious effort–a habit, a spiritual practice–of choosing to lay down your opinion (even a really strong, well-researched, well presented one) sometimes. (Not all the times. Sometimes.)
It’s like rapping your knuckles on the euchre table to indicate I haven’t withdrawn from the game but this time, I pass.
It’s good for our argumentative souls to practice the humility of not always having to be right.
(And if you need someone to lock horns with, come find me, and we’ll turn the whole world on its end and see what shakes out.)