Category: Book review

The best way to persuade someone is to martial facts, develop multiple lines of argument, refute all your opponent’s views, and never give an inch. Right? Well, probably not.

The most effective negotiators and debaters, as described by Adam Grant in Think Again, employ three surprising approaches that can actually help change people’s minds.*

Be simple.

Don’t pile up too many arguments. Such an approach can backfire for two reasons. One is that doing so can make listeners feel threatened emotionally and intellectually. A natural response is to throw up defenses. Their minds go into overdrive looking for flaws in and counterarguments against what we are saying.

Another problem is that not all our arguments will be equally strong. Listeners have an uncanny radar for picking out the weakest argument, tearing that down, and then on the basis of that dismissing our whole case.
Counterintuitively it is better to focus on just one or two of our strongest ideas. Doing so doesn’t tend to trigger resistance as much, and it leaves us less vulnerable to a counterargument.

Be humble.

Admit when someone else is right. When we say that we are wrong or don’t know something, we don’t weaken our case. Rather this has two unexpected benefits.

One is that it makes us look more objective and thus lends credibility to everything else we say. This makes people less defensive and more open to our ideas.

Another result is that when we agree on common ground, it lessens the adversarial nature of our encounter. Instead of being opponents, we move together toward finding good solutions for all.

A variation on this is to affirm those you disagree with whenever possible. Tell them that you believe they are people of sound judgment and that their motives are good. The temperature in such a discussion will go down as well as the defenses.

Be curious.

The most effective persuaders ask many more questions than average persuaders. By honestly trying to find out what someone thinks, we can learn more about what motivates them, where we can affirm them, and thus work toward ideas that will meet their concerns and ours.

Genuine open-ended questions can also do a better job of helping people examine their own viewpoints than outright declarations. For example, we can ask:

* Something I’d love to know is, What evidence would change your mind?
* I’m curious, what do you think are the disadvantages or downsides of your view?
* I’m less concerned about my solution being the right one than finding a solution that really works. If you don’t like what I’m suggesting, how would you solve the problem instead?
* Tell me more. Why do you feel strongly about this issue?

In all this, we don’t have to convince someone on the spot. In fact, we probably won’t. But asking questions can plant a seed of doubt that can bear fruit in the long run.

Sometimes, the person who can best persuade us to think differently is ourselves.

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*See chapters 5, 6, and 7 of Adam Grant, Think Again (New York: Viking, 2021), pp. 97-160.

photo credit: Pixabay RyanMcGuire

Persuasion is a lost art. Persuasion means we respect the dignity and value of people we disagree with. Persuasion, if it is honest, means we ourselves are open to new ideas, new information, and are willing to adjust our previous conclusions. Persuasion is a win-win for us and society. And, sadly, we see too little of it in a world that favors screaming at and insulting opponents.

For that reason, I was looking forward to Anand Giridharadas’s The Persuaders. And I got a little of that, but not as much as I hoped. If you are looking for a balanced book that considers what we could learn positively from both right and left—you won’t find it here.

Instead The Persuaders reports on some of the different approaches left-leaning strategists, activists, and legislators have been using recently to shift the thinking of voters. Each chapter focuses on one or two key people, such as Bernie Sanders, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and others. And we find some interesting approaches described which depart from less than successful practices of the past.

The book is strong on reporting but is weak on analysis. As a journalist, Giridharadas largely chronicles the work, words, and methods of public figures he admires. He doesn’t offer much insight. I appreciate books that tell stories to illustrate their content. Narratives help drive home in concrete ways what can be abstract principles. But this book does the reverse—it illustrates stories with a smattering of principles. And that is usually much less effective because the point can get lost in the midst of a long tale.

Often I am annoyed by reviews that say, I don’t like this book because the author didn’t write it the way I would have. And there may be some of that in my critique. But the book could have been so much better (more persuasive?) if the author had taken longer to write it, thought more deeply about the nature of persuasion, and guided us more concretely on how the character of our national discussions needs to change to preserve and enhance civility and democracy.

I am sympathetic to many of the viewpoints he highlights. I know the author wants us to be better, wants the American dream to be accessible to more and more Americans rather than fewer and fewer. But he might have included more thoughtful synthesis and a wider range of voices who all want us all to move forward together.

Having said all that, two chapters are particularly worthwhile, and I’ll talk about those more in my next Andy Unedited.

I have a friend who says he’s not a patriot. You can’t love a country like the United States, he says, that has done so many horrendous things in the past (slavery and its treatment of Native Americans, to name two) and which continues its racism and bigotry in the present.

I have a second friend who acknowledges all that but who thinks that if our current form of government disintegrates, the results would be even worse. Indeed, she believes government still has an important role to play in helping America live up to its own dreams and aspirations.

Yet a third friend believes America has been called by God as a nation like Israel was. He is a nationalist who believes in the greatness of our Anglo-Protestant origins and touts America First.

Paul D. Miller is none of these. He is a self-described conservative who stresses “the paramount value of human liberty within a framework of limited government” (p. 1). In The Religion of American Greatness Miller who served in the second Bush White House and is a professor at Georgetown, has written a profound critique of nationalism on political, historical, and biblical grounds. (He plans to write two more volumes—a critique of progressivism and a positive case for conservatism.)

In dealing with nationalism, Miller does not set up a straw man. In chapter 3 he gives ample space for the most thoughtful and articulate nationalists to have their say, including Samuel Huntington, Nigel Biggar, R.R. Reno, Rich Lowry, and Yarom Hazony. In summary, they believe that “preserving the United States’ Anglo-Protestant culture should be a major focus of public policy, even if and when it conflicts with the tenets of classical liberalism,* civic republicanism, and the American Constitution” (p. 58). Christian nationalists follow suit.

Miller then engages their arguments, focusing on “cultural nationalism, . . . not racial or theocratic nationalism, because it is a stronger argument and a more popular kind of nationalism and deserves a more careful and sensitive treatment.” Miller argues that humanity is not divisible into cultural units, as these nationalists contend. Therefore, the belief that political and cultural boundaries should overlap is essentially impossible. He contends “that the belief that government should have jurisdiction over culture is mistaken and dangerous” (p. 61).

In practice it would be folly to seek to enforce such a culture. “It is unlikely that the US government is competent to sustain, create, or orchestrate a common national cultural template for a nation of 320 million people when it can barely deliver the mail” (p. 102).

Neither does democracy depend on an Anglo-Protestant foundation. There are two dozen democratic countries in the world with no Christian heritage. Japan, India and South Korea are examples of the most stable and prosperous of these.

Miller argues that nationalism does not create national unity, as its proponents contend. Rather Christian nationalism still has anti-democratic, illiberal tendencies, especially in how it treats ethnic and religious minorities. “Nationalism is the identity politics of the majority tribe. . . . It perpetuates the cycle of political warfare between nationalist majorities and identity-group minorities, each side . . . trying to seize state power and milk it for perks for their tribe” (p. 108).

Miller further unpacks how the Bible does not say what nationalists claim it says. “The civil religion that equates America with Israel is a prolonged exercise in missing the point. America is not Israel: the church is” (p. 130).

Ultimately, nationalism is idolatrous, supplanting loyalty to Jesus with loyalty to the nation. Evidence for this is seen in how many Christians disregard Jesus’ commands to “love your neighbor” and “love your enemies” if it serves their political goals.

Miller’s is an important and substantive book that will require substantive engagement by readers. But the reward will be equally substantive.

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*By classical liberalism Miller does not mean left-leaning politics. Instead he uses it in its 18th-century sense of embodying the principles of liberty and equality on which the U.S. was founded, something both Republicans and Democrats say they support.