Right/Wrong or an Honored Place in the Dialogue

“…In virtually every human society, ‘he hit me first’ or ‘he started it’ provides an acceptable rationale for what comes next. It’s thought that a punch thrown second is legally and morally different from a punch thrown first. The problem with the principle of even-numberedness is that people count differently. We see our own actions as consequences of what came before, we see other people’s actions as the causes of what came later, and our reasons and pains feel more palpable, more obvious and real, than anyone else’s.”

These are moves we all wind up playing. When we are right, embedded in that truth is an equal and opposite truth: someone else must be wrong. That’s not just a matter of accuracy; it becomes a matter of identity. And while we’re being right—making someone else wrong, justifying our position—we crowd out the very states we say we want. It is hard to be happy, vital, and loving while gripping a scorecard.

Rightness narrows attention. It pre-selects what counts as evidence and filters out anything that doesn’t serve the verdict. In that tunnel, other points of view can’t get in; we’re not listening for understanding, we’re listening for confirmation.

We do have a choice about what’s at play. When we elect to transform the ways we’ve wound up being, we move toward freedom and possibility. Our points of view can shift from fixed to malleable, from closed to open—toward a conversation where each person has an honored place.

Try this in the heat of a disagreement: quietly name your stance (“Here’s the lens I’m looking through”), ask for theirs (“What lens are you using?”), and trade summaries—each person restates the other’s view to their satisfaction before responding. No one gives up conviction; we simply trade the scorecard for a shared field. That small act doesn’t erase differences, but it makes room for dignity, curiosity, and movement—conditions under which better answers, and better relationships, tend to appear.