I AM WRONG

No surprise. 

That all too familiar realization, occurred again this week in conversation with my neighbor. Here’s the back story.

I walked next door to have conversation with our neighbors. They regularly sit on their lanai and I had not talked with them since our arrival. It was a good conversation. I was pleased to learn that Rick is a woodworker and turner. Even better, he turns segmented bowls. Finding common interest the conversation turned to the challenge creating segments for bowls. ( don’t want to get into the weeds here, so bear with me) 

I mentioned that as long as you cut segments at 30 degrees, 12 piece rings work well. He immediately corrected me, saying no, they are cut at 15 degrees. My response was quick. No, it’s 30 degrees. I did not argue, but his qualifications became suspect. Convinced I was correct, I redirect the conversation and we talked for a while longer.

(Fast forward two days )

I admitted (to myself) that I was wrong.

What happened in the intervening days is the subject of this post. I believe My experience revealed some dynamics that fuel disagreement, division, discord, even hatred and violence in our society and can possibly be helpful.

Here is what happened after our first conversation. Some of you may recognize my commitment to my rightness. Rick’s assertion that I was wrong triggered a relentless mental turmoil for me. I searched the internet for confirmation of my position. Finding none, I was mildly encouraged that I didn’t find absolute proof I was wrong.

I know it’s weird, but I awoke during the night. Laying in bed, I searched my memory for confirmation of my position, working through the logic that I used to reach my conclusion. Given the subject, my discomfort was beyond any reasonable measure. Although I harbored doubts, I remained steadfast that I was correct. My morning began with another search for confirming information.

Later in the  day while sitting on my lanai, another neighbor, Bill, stopped to visit. It seems that he had heard I am a wood turner and being one also, he wanted to meet me. We had a great conversation. He, too, makes segmented bowls.  Bill went to his place and brought some of his work for me to see. He is an outstanding wood turner. His segmented pieces are beautiful. My other neighbor, Rick, joined the conversation and eventually we got to cutting segments. Looking for support in my 30 degree position, I was sure Bill, being an expert, would confirm I was correct. When I mentioned cutting at 30 degrees, he looked at me with such a way that it was clear he didn’t agree. Joining with Rick, they proceeded, in a gentlemanly manner  to tell me I was  wrong. Wisely, I changed the subject. 

I believe the mental gymnastics I described, produced from those conversations, are not unlike most people’s reaction when told they are wrong.  I know a lot of people (including myself) that are adamant they are not mistaken in their rightness. Somehow our belief that we are right trumps the truth that we are fallible beings.

Here are some takeaways from those conversations:

1. Do not under estimate the depth of resistance when told you are wrong. Some people may say they are open minded, but see what happens when they are told they are wrong.
2. I was astounded by how much such a mundane issue dominated by thoughts. If that is true, how much more will consequential issues produce deep anxiety and potential for greater negative outcomes.
3. Reflecting on my interactions with my neighbors, I realized that any future contact or conversations hinged on how I reacted to their declarations. To my credit, I did not tell them they were full of crap. For now, we are on good terms.
4. As indicated earlier, I admit I was wrong, but that is not enough. If I do not tell them I was wrong, we may have an amicable relationship but we will never enjoy its full potential.
5. This is the most difficult part of my experience. I was wrong. All the data and facts and evidence support that conclusion. I will confess my wrongness to my neighbors, BUT, In the depths of my soul, I have a voice that’s says, I am right. For that reason, I can begin to understand why people faced with incontrovertible evidence will harden their position instead of changing.
6. The best default position, for me, to engage and have dialogue with those whom I disagree is: I AM WRONG. At least I won’t have to apologize all the time.

IF you are interested, here are a couple of earlier related posts:

Why is it so important to be right? (6)

Echo Chambers :The Importance of Being Wrong (3)