The Sunday Stoic: On how to disagree and still find a common ground

Every day, we face choices—what to eat, what to work on, and what to set aside. These decisions often involve discussions, sharing opinions, and finding the best path forward. The word "argument" comes from Latin, meaning "to make clear," yet today we often equate arguing with verbal duels. Paradoxically, for ancient philosophers like Aristotle (384-322 BCE), arguments were about discovering truth through thoughtful dialogue, known as dialectic. In ancient Greece and Rome, rhetoric—the art of persuasive speaking—was essential for leadership, while in India, around 500 BCE, shastrartha debates sought deeper truths. Once a tool for finding common ground, argumentation is now often clouded by emotions. In heated political debates, social media exchanges, or personal disagreements, emotions frequently overshadow logic and reason. How can we revive the true art of argumentation to reach common ground more easily?

Arguments arise when people have different opinions. In the classical sense, an argument typically has three parts: the claim (what you’re trying to say), the premises (the reasons or facts that back up what you’re saying), and the conclusion(what you want others to agree with). The best way to understand argumentation is through examples. Let’s say two friends, Sean and Joe, are debating whether it’s better to wake up early or sleep in. Sean thinks waking up early is the best, so he says, “Getting up early is the best way to start the day.” He explains his reasoning (the premises) by saying, “You get more time to be productive and enjoy a quiet morning.” Then, he concludes, “So, getting up early is the best choice for everyone.” That is how most of us see the world, we often assume that because we think something is right, everyone else must think the same way too.

Arguments are like a game of ping-pong with ideas. Imagine Joe loves sleeping in, so he might think, "Sleeping in gives you more rest, which helps you stay energized all day." Now, when Joe wants to reply to Sean, has two ways to respond.

• First, Joe can stay on topic by saying, "But sleeping in keeps you well-rested, which is really important." This is called ad rem, meaning "to the point," because Joe is sticking to the main question: Is waking up early better?
• But sometimes, people go off track. Joe might say, "Sean, you only think that because you’re boring." This is called ad hominem—instead of focusing on the argument, Joe attacks Sean’s personality. Have you ever had someone say something like, "You’re too young to understand" or "You’re just saying that because you always want to be right"? That’s ad hominem—a detour from the main topic.

When people have opened up about their stance, they can agree, change their minds, or disagree. If they disagree, that’s where refutation comes in.

• Direct refutation is when someone openly challenges another person’s main point. For example, if Sean says, "Joe, I don’t think more sleep actually helps," he’s directly opposing Joe’s idea that sleeping in is good. This way is straightforward but can make the conversation more intense because it directly challenges beliefs.
• On the other hand, Sean could use indirect refutation by asking, "Even if sleeping in feels good, do you want to miss out on the fun of the morning?" Here, Sean isn’t saying Joe is wrong; instead, he’s gently nudging Joe to think about other missed possibilities. This way of disagreeing is softer and makes Joe think without feeling attacked.

When you disagree with someone through direct refutation, it’s important to know which part of their argument you’re challenging—whether it’s the main idea (premise) or the final point they’re trying to make (conclusion).

• Imagine Sean says, "Waking up early makes you successful because ALL successful people like Tim Cook and Oprah Winfrey do it" (premise). If Joe disagrees, he might say, "But not all successful people wake up early, like Winston Churchill, who stayed up late." This type of disagreement is called nego majorum—Joe thinks the main premise isn’t true.
• Now, if Sean says, "Waking up early is the ONLY way to succeed," and Joe agrees that waking up early is good but doesn’t believe it’s the only way, he’s using nego consequentiam. Joe is saying, "Even if the premise is true, it doesn’t prove the conclusion."

On a related note, indirect refutations through instances and diversions can shift the focus away from the main argument, making it harder to reach a clear conclusion.

• For example, Joe might bring up an instance by saying, "But my friend sleeps in and is very productive." This challenges Sean’s argument without necessarily disproving it. Instances can cause doubt, but they don’t always negate the general rule.
• Additionally, conversations can go off track when Joe introduces a diversion. For instance, if Joe shifts the focus to the life of a successful entrepreneur with irregular sleep patterns, and starts to discuss his latest inventions. The discussion then drifts into unrelated details about the entrepreneur's work, making it harder to resolve the original issue.

The Stoics observed that conversations can sometimes get tangled, with people unsure if they’re discussing facts (what’s true) or feelings (how something makes them feel), or whether they’re questioning the main idea (premise) or the final point (conclusion). But communication isn’t about instant understanding—it’s a process, like walking across a bridge. Each line is usually a step forward, bringing us closer to meeting in the middle, or it could be a step back, expecting the other to move toward us. The Stoics practiced dialectic, focusing on addressing obstacles in dialogue through logic and reasoning. As Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius (121–180 CE) noted, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” Understanding this process means seeing each step, even the difficult ones, as part of moving toward success.

In closing, imagine a discussion as a sturdy bridge that helps two people meet in the middle. If you keep the conversation focused on the main point (ad rem), it’s like walking straight across that bridge together. But if your argument is shaky, like a bridge with missing planks, it might fall apart, especially if emotions get in the way. When you challenge the main idea directly, with direct refutation, it’s like using a hammer to set the planks straight. When you look at related points, with indirect refutation, it’s like using a screwdriver to tighten things up. The next time someone says they disagree, think about whether the disagreement is with the main idea (premise) or the final point (conclusion)—that tells you where they are on the bridge. With good thinking and care, you can build a strong bridge that helps everyone meet in the middle.

The views expressed in this essay are mine alone and don’t represent those of any individuals, employers, or organizations I’m associated with. Studying Stoicism and other philosophies is a personal hobby that I pursue to improve my thinking. I’m not a professional writer or illustrator, so I’ve used some online tools to help express my thoughts more clearly. My goal is simply to share ideas, not to impress. I don’t claim to be better or more knowledgeable than others on these topics. Most of us aren’t perfect, but many of us try to improve, little by little, each day. If you have thoughts on how Stoicism applies to everyday life, I’d love to hear from you via LinkedIn. If you found this essay useful, feel free to share it.