Let’s say you’ve done your homework. You’ve read the
reports, double-checked the sources, even made a snazzy little chart with
color-coded bars and everything. You're armed with solid, objective data—cold,
hard, undeniable truth. Then you share it with your sister, best friend, or
partner…And they respond with a concerned expression and say, “Yeah, but I read
something different, and honestly, I just don’t think that’s true.” Suddenly,
your well-researched truth feels like it just bounced off a brick wall of
emotional loyalty.
What just happened? Welcome to the tug-of-war between objective
data and contradictory information delivered by someone close
to you—a psychological and social battlefield where logic often finds
itself outmaneuvered by trust, intimacy, and shared identity.
Objective data is persuasive because it’s supposed to
be impartial. Numbers don’t lie. If 97% of climate scientists agree on global
warming, or if randomized controlled trials show a medication works, we expect
people to believe it. Data gives the illusion of authority, precision, and
universality. It says, “This isn’t my opinion—it’s the truth.”
And when people are open to it, that can be powerful. Good data can change
minds, shift policy, and spark innovation. But here's the catch: Data doesn’t
exist in a vacuum. It lands in the messy terrain of human emotion, values,
culture, and—most potently—relationships.
Now imagine someone you trust deeply—someone you share
holidays, heartbreaks, and inside jokes with—tells you something that
goes against what the data says. Even if what they say is
vague, anecdotal, or factually wrong… you might feel more
inclined to believe them. Why?
Because their voice doesn’t come alone. It’s wrapped in
emotional history. It speaks in a language of shared understanding and loyalty.
That person isn't just giving you a different perspective—they’re sending a
social signal: “If you believe this, you're with me.” And
humans are wired for being with. Evolutionarily, tribal belonging
often mattered more than objective truth. The tribe protected you. The truth
didn’t.
Think about it: If your best friend says, “I don’t trust
that vaccine—it just came out too fast,” they’re not publishing a medical
paper. They’re expressing fear, maybe shaped by a tangle of social media,
stress, and personal stories. Telling them, “Actually, here’s the CDC’s Phase
III trial data…” might be correct. But it might also feel—to them—like you’re
rejecting them, not just their point. And in return, their
rejection of your facts might feel like they’re ignoring your intelligence.
This is how good people talk past each other.
So, Who Wins? In pure logic? Objective data. Every time. But
in real life? The winner is often the person you care about more
than the facts. That’s not because people are dumb. It’s because we are social.
We don’t just evaluate truth in our heads—we weigh it with our hearts.
What do we do? We start by recognizing that persuasion
isn't just about truth—it's about trust. If you want someone to believe
good data, you might need to become the familiar voice. Share facts
gently, wrapped in empathy, not superiority. Make it safe for someone to listen
without feeling betrayed. And if someone you love believes something untrue,
resist the urge to steamroll them with charts. Instead, start with connection.
Find shared values. Be curious. Show that you care more about them than
about winning the argument. Because sometimes, the only thing more persuasive
than truth… is love that listens.
Have you ever changed your mind because of someone close to
you—even if the facts weren’t on their side? Or vice versa? Regardless of
whether you are the one who’s trying to change someone’s mind, or they’re
trying to change yours, I remind you now of the song I keep on singing about
contextualism. To briefly recap: Contextualism is the idea that thoughts,
feelings, behaviors, actions, and experiences don’t have a single, universal
meaning. Instead, their meaning depends on the external situation and your internal
situation. Therefore, before you get into a shouting match with someone with
whom you disagree, decide whether the context is suitable for rational
reconciliation. If it isn’t. tactfully withdraw from the situation. and decide
whether you want to reengage at a more opportune time or never.
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