Back in the day, I was on my school’s debate team.

It was basically a sport for nerds. (In hindsight, my friend group did a lot of “sports for nerds” activities: chess, quiz bowl, competitive gaming, etc.)

Anyway, back to the debate team. We treated it like a sport. We trained for it and attended competitions. It was a lot of fun – but deep down, we were there to win.

A stronger, better-researched, more clearly articulated argument was the big key to winning (obvious).

But there were lots of other ways to score points:

• by flustering your opponent with a hard question,
• catching them off-guard,
• pointing out something silly they said,
• and so on.

This is how most people think about debating, whether it’s on social media or between political candidates. It is eristic (about “winning”).

Obviously, this is a popular form of entertainment. We enjoy the drama. We like seeing other people (particularly those we disagree with) get “owned” / “dunked on” / “destroyed” / etc.

What sucks about this is how shallow it is.

Mostly in academic circles, there is a less popular and considerably less entertaining form of debate. It is dialectic (about learning through disagreement).

The ground-rules are different:

• You are charitable. You interpret your opponent’s argument in a strong way, not a weak way.

• You look for common ground. If you find yourself agreeing on something – however small – you build from there.

• You put your ego aside. Being wrong is not a bad thing; it means you’re learning something new.

In a narrow, self-serving sense, there’s obviously a lot of value in being persuasive. But in aggregate, it’s a lot more exciting to actually be right vs. simply being perceived that way.

This post, and particularly its title, was inspired by this excellent essay by Paul Graham.

posted 11 sep 2025