“The only way to win an argument is to avoid it.” — Dale Carnegie
Rafi Ahmed, a marketer, had been searching for eight months. Every ad agency in the city had turned him down or handed him the same flawed idea. Then he found Meridian, the only local firm willing to build the strange and unique campaign he had dreamed of for his tea company.
Nadia Karim, Meridian’s account representative, met him in the conference room with two coffees and a warm smile.
“I love the concept,” she said. “Before we start, I read your interview about replacing your packaging designers with AI. Bold move.”
“Practical move,” Rafi said. “AI will take over most creative jobs within ten years. Better to get ahead of it.”
“Or it becomes a tool, and the people who use it well take over.” She shrugged. “Creativity isn’t a task you can automate, Mr Ahmed.”
“That’s what every typewriter repairman said.”
Nadia set down her cup. “With respect, you’re thinking like it’s 1995.”
“And you’re speaking and looking like it’s 1995.”
The room went quiet. Nadia’s smile thinned. “Excuse me?”
“Well, if we’re being honest,” Rafi said, leaning back, “I wondered how a firm this small could afford a representative who looks like she found her blazer in a donation bin.”
“At least I know how to run a meeting,” Nadia snapped. “You’ve interrupted me six times. No wonder eight agencies said no. It was never the budget. It was you.”
Rafi went pale. “Eight months of my life, and you’re going to sit there and…”
“Sit here and what? Tell you the truth?” She stood and gathered her papers. “Meridian doesn’t work with people who treat my team like servants. Consider this meeting, and this contract, finished.”
“You can’t be serious. You’re the only agency in this city that can do this!”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to ask your AI to paint it.”
She held the door open. Rafi walked out slowly, his unsigned contract still on the table, his eight months of searching ending where it had begun: with nothing.
Many of us face heated arguments in our day-to-day lives. Maybe it is about ethical dilemmas, scientific controversies, or workplace disagreements. Both parties want to win. It is akin to a social war of small scale. The more we try to convince the other person that they are wrong, the more they strive to prove they are right, ultimately resulting in clashes, fallout, and other irreversible consequences.
There is still a beautiful element in arguments and debates. As long as they are used as a tool to unravel flaws in one’s own thinking and reach a conclusion, arguments are okay. The shift from “who won the argument” to “what is the conclusion?” can be game-changing. The latter is the ideal guiding question of an argument.
Overall, winning an argument is not worth it, especially when it comes to keeping networks and connections intact in professional life. The momentary victory doesn’t outweigh the dire consequences of winning an argument. Blowing up a deal or losing a connection will have devastating consequences, while giving the winner only a fleeting feeling.
Moreover, one can be wrong and still win an argument.
So, what could Rafi and Nadia have done differently? How exactly do we disagree with dignity without starting a social war?
In his book The Next Conversation, Fisher presents an extraordinary alternative. He suggests simply saying: “I see it differently” or “my viewpoint is different here” when facing a difference of opinion.
When done right, it can preserve our dignity—we are not agreeing with everything (while keeping our human connections intact, especially in the professional world). The tactic loses its efficacy, however, when said reactively, i.e. screaming or passive-aggressively. The key is to keep calm and say it with control and confidence.
Our similarities as people far outweigh our differences. So it is never worth it to fight over minute variations in opinions and disagreements.
