Logic is great for puzzles and games, which take place in a finite imaginary world with known facts and rules (and usually only one right answer). But logic has its limitations; it cannot lead to conclusions outside of that world. Regular equations can’t explain quantum phenomena, just as a game of Cluedo cannot conclude with: ‘it was Mr Smith, using poison, by mistake.’
In real-life arguments, each person tries to prove who is right (‘right’ often equating factually correct with morally good). Each puts forward seemingly logical reasons for their position, which make sense in their imaginary worlds, but ignore the wider context.
A wife complains to her husband that he bought the wrong brand of toilet paper. She uses her own logic to explain why he did wrong: they always get Brand X; it’s better than Brand Y; she reminded him only yesterday; he obviously wasn’t listening; he must be selfish. He argues back. He couldn’t find Brand X in the supermarket; he went to a different store because of traffic; yes, he heard her yesterday but didn’t think it was important. Both parties heat up as they accuse one another of being unreasonable.
Each party finds themselves appealing to an imaginary judge to determine who is ‘right.’ This would make perfect sense if life were a logic puzzle, but it’s not. By narrowing their focus to ‘winning’ in their respective imaginary logic-puzzle worlds, they lose sight of the bigger picture: the value of their relationship, of being kind and of remaining calm.
If you’re arguing, the only person you need to convince is your opponent, and they’re likely to listen to you, only when you listen to them first. To do that you must widen your focus and be open to new, possibly paradigm-shifting, information.
Stephanie Hills ©