We Are Now At the Point In This Argument Where I Realize I Am Wrong

Damn. That was a really good point. When I started this discussion, which quickly turned into an argument that I keep demanding be called a “discussion,” I had no idea that you felt so passionately or had such a well-reasoned stance. Not only have you been calm throughout this ordeal, but you have skillfully dealt with my flailing attempts to “win” by concocting straw men of your points. You also seem to be putting forth a genuine effort to understand my position while explaining yours. And, can I just say (well, not so much say but rather think to myself as you make another well-reasoned point), that you are doing an excellent job. It’s been, maybe, 15 minutes that we’ve been talk-yelling, with you mainly talking and me mainly yelling, and not only do I agree with you, but I’ve come to the conclusion I have sounded like an idiot for years about this subject.

Upon realizing that I am totally wrong and you are totally right, I guess I only have one option: double the fuck down.

Seeing as you have totally blocked the roads to winning this argument through logic, I will begin with the most obvious, and classic, of techniques: attempting to switch this argument to another field. If all goes well, through either an unnoticed segue or a drilling down on a small piece of information you’ve presented, the idea of our original debate will be long gone. In just a few moments, you’ll be experiencing what I am now, wondering how you backed yourself into the corner. Well, the truth is, you didn’t! I lead you to that corner while you were trying to express how you actually feel about something. This will leave us both angry and unsure how to proceed, turning the only beneficial part about an argument — revealing your true feelings on something — into a “Where’s Waldo” game of semantic wrongdoing. I know you’re right, but correct opinions are complicated and take precision. In your passion you’ll miss something and I’ll lead you right into my trap.

If that doesn’t work, and considering how smart you are it might not, I can always just turn this into a yelling match. I will raise my voice until you are being drowned in it. Or, instead of anger, it could be some other emotion. I could use a sad story about my childhood as a very tangential connection to this story. Either way, I’ll be moving you away from your correct opinions and towards my damaged emotions. Have fun debating that.

In some ways, being wrong is actually easier. I’ve been here before and I know how to dig myself out. At this point, I’m no longer connected to my actual values, but instead the pure animalistic desire to be better than another person. You’re still playing with everything to lose. I wish I could just say you’re right — I really do — but my lizard like brain is defensive and you’ve attacked me. I can see in your eyes how much you actually care about not only this issue, but also how much you care about me. I’m actually kind of sad for you.

Also, I can just bring up some fight that we had before when I was right and make it about that. That pretty much always works.

In the future, I will perhaps be calmer and admit my wrongdoing. However, more likely, I will add this moment to the large list of times I’ve been wrong and let it be erased from my memory. When you mention it again, I will pretend it never even happened. To add to this, as is my way, I will agree wholeheartedly with you and say, “Can you imagine me saying that, that’s ridiculous!” The rest of that night I will reference how ridiculous that would be if I said those things. I should remind you though that, right now, I am literally saying those things to your face.

If we are not friends because of this, leaving me lost and unhappy, I can at least say with confidence: I won. I’m right and you: you’re wrong.

You’re so wrong.

And I’m right.