You know a lot of things; I do too. When we both know the same things, we agree. Great!
Since everyone makes mistakes, you probably also “know” things that aren’t true — I’m sure I do (I certainly have in the past). Since it’s hard to remember everything, it’s very likely that you’ve learned things with confidence but forgotten the details of the rationale (I have!), and also learned things that aren’t easily transmitted verbally (like what your own whistle sounds like, if you know how to whistle).
Now suppose you and I both have beliefs about the same thing, but they contradict each other. You know you’re right. But I also “know” I’m right. Let’s say we’re both reason-responsive and hold our beliefs tentatively, so I might rationally update my beliefs to be correct on the basis of arguments you present. And, lucky for me, you’re motivated to help me come to a more correct understanding.
Why might this not work?
It might be that my background makes it difficult to understand your evidence (e.g. it involves a proof that uses elliptic curves, and I am not even totally solid on one-variable linear equations), or that the sheer quantity of evidence needed to make the case is beyond what you are willing to supply or I am willing to ingest (e.g. most anything to do with climate change). This case is usually pretty easy to detect: even if I’m so clueless that I don’t realize that when you’re talking about p-functions that it’s relevant, at least you can tell that I’m clueless. And if you’re nice you can give me some pointers on how to get up to speed. (Silverman 2009. IPCC AR6 WG1 Ch 3–6.)
But it might also be that you remember the answer, but not the reasoning that gets there. A lot of us remember some weird (-b +- sqrt(b²-4ac))/2 thing. How many of us can actually give the reason for why the quadratic formula works, though? Many of us never saw a proof; of those who did, most forgot it.
And you might not realize that you don’t have the true reasons at hand. This doesn’t mean that you’re wrong, but it does mean you can’t share with me why you’re right. It does mean that when you give me a bad reason, I shouldn’t believe you, and I shouldn’t change my mind.
You’re right, but you have no argument. You can’t, it turns out, prove your point right this second. You have no compelling reason that you can share.
Now what?
It turns out that quite a few otherwise bright people go absolutely bonkers when this happens. I’ve seen people
- Insult the intelligence and/or morality of the person they can’t convince
- Insist that the clearly wrong line of reasoning is, in fact, correct
- Commit all manner of logical fallacies — often several in rapid fire
- Block the person who won’t accept their bad reasons
- Express hostile emotions like anger
- Ignore that their reasons were bad and continue as if they’d presented a sound argument, including saying things like “I proved it already” when they’re challenged
I’ve seen all of these things when I know the person making the claim is correct but they just gave a dumb argument. (Of course, I’ve also seen all these things when the person is actually wrong. And plenty more where it’s not entirely possible to tell the degree to which they’re correct.)
Now, I understand that it can be frustrating to know something and not be able to express it in a way that can give others confidence in its truth. We’d like to be able to share truths even if we have resigned ourselves to having differing opinions about subjective matters. But the above reactions are really poor form.
Don’t let this be you!
There are lovely, graceful ways to deal with this unfortunate predicament. For example, one could say, “Oh, oops; I guess that wasn’t a good argument for my perspective. I’m quite sure I’m right, but I need to think more about how to show it.”
Furthermore, if you let yourself commit the listed blunders when you are correct, you’ll have an incredibly hard time being open to evidence when you’re wrong. And if you’re not actually open to evidence, even when it comes from someone “on the other side”, you’ll tend to accumulate wrong beliefs and likely grow more and more wrong over time.
So, don’t do that.
Ask for good reasons when people’s views differ from yours. Try to forgive them — but don’t believe them! — when they can’t come up with something compelling. It could be that they are wrong, or it could be that they can’t articulate the rationale even though they’re right.
And if you’re trying to persuade someone but they don’t seem to buy it, consider that, perhaps, it’s not them being stubborn (though of course that happens often too), but you not expressing the rationale for your view in a sufficiently compelling way.
In that case, try to develop your artistry of lacking an expressible reason. Not having a reason doesn’t mean you’re necessarily wrong. Perhaps you are wrong, or perhaps it’s only that your correctness cannot be shared. And you and your discussion partner should aspire to take this in stride — or if they won’t, at least you can conduct yourself in an intellectually and socially dignified manner.