I believe that two fundamental philosophies will change the world. One is from Benjamin Franklin. The other is from Aristotle.
Benjamin Franklin was a remarkable person for a host of reasons, chief among them the influence he had on his society. He is credited with founding one of the first libraries in America, Philadelphia’s first fire department, and the University of Pennsylvania. Of course, he was also instrumental in the creation of the Constitution of the United States, and had dramatic diplomatic influence in Europe, and was particularly loved in France.
What made Benjamin Franklin so effective in the public sphere? He tells us himself in his autobiography. We can learn from this master influencer how to be more persuasive, and thus more effective. Let’s look at Ben’s evolution on his way to becoming a master persuader.
In his early years, Franklin was quite argumentative, and his approach was one of abrupt contradiction. (Do you know anyone like that?) But then he was introduced to a different way.
While I was intent on improving my language, I met with [a book], at the end of which there were two little sketches of the arts of rhetoric and logic, the latter finishing with a specimen of a dispute in the Socratic method; and soon after I procur'd Xenophon's Memorable Things of Socrates, wherein there are many instances of the same method. I was charm'd with it, adopted it, dropt my abrupt contradiction and positive argumentation, and put on the humble inquirer and doubter.
So he shifted from direct confrontation to subversive questioning, but he still sought to decisively “win.” He got quite good at making others look foolish, and eventually recognized that “winning” did not mean he was right.
I found this method safest for myself and very embarrassing to those against whom I used it; therefore I took a delight in it, practis'd it continually, and grew very artful and expert in drawing people, even of superior knowledge, into concessions, the consequences of which they did not foresee, entangling them in difficulties out of which they could not extricate themselves, and so obtaining victories that neither myself nor my cause always deserved.
Fortunately, his style evolved again, and he developed an approach that was more effective than any other.
I continu'd this method some few years, but gradually left it, retaining only the habit of expressing myself in terms of modest diffidence; never using, when I advanced anything that may possibly be disputed, the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that give the air of positiveness to an opinion; but rather say, I conceive or apprehend a thing to be so and so; it appears to me, or I should think it so or so, for such and such reasons; or I imagine it to be so; or it is so, if I am not mistaken.
How often have you been frustrated with someone who insists that their worldview, or their approach to a problem, is absolute? You know immediately that there is no discussion to be had. The “absolutely certain” person is fixed in their opinion, and no amount of “discussion” will move them an inch.
Now consider the elegance of Franklin's approach. By simply softening the way you present your ideas, it invites discussion. It doesn’t mean that you believe that you are wrong. It simply means that you acknowledge that you only have your own experience to lean on. How effective was this approach? Franklin says:
This habit, I believe, has been of great advantage to me when I have had occasion to inculcate my opinions, and persuade men into measures that I have been from time to time engaged in promoting...
He then contrasts it with what he observed was the typical response to “a positive and dogmatic manner.”
...and, as the chief ends of conversation are to inform or to be informed, to please or to persuade, I wish well-meaning, sensible men would not lessen their power of doing good by a positive, assuming manner, that seldom fails to disgust, tends to create opposition, and to defeat everyone of those purposes for which speech was given to us, to wit, giving or receiving information or pleasure.
For, if you would inform, a positive and dogmatical manner in advancing your sentiments may provoke contradiction and prevent a candid attention.
Translation: If you state your opinion as a self-evident incontrovertible fact, you are asking to start an argument, and people who disagree will stop paying attention early. He also wisely teaches that:
If you wish information and improvement from the knowledge of others, and yet at the same time express yourself as firmly fix'd in your present opinions, modest, sensible men, who do not love disputation, will probably leave you undisturbed in the possession of your error.
Translation: If you want to get smarter on a topic (and you should), but you talk like you already know it all, and are confrontational about it, people who know better will simply leave you to your own ignorance. You are not worth their time to try to educate.
And by such a manner, you can seldom hope to recommend yourself in pleasing your hearers, or to persuade those whose concurrence you desire.
Translation: You’re really not going to please anyone with this approach, and you’re definitely not going to sway anyone to your side.
In truth, the only people who will be endeared to your fiery words are the fellow members of your choir, and their attraction will be more likely driven by inflamed passions than deep affection. In short, they will support your fire as long as it’s pointed in their chosen direction. But that same fire will be turned to burn you just as quickly if you dare to step out of line with their own dogma.
And those who may be able to elevate the discussion will recognize the futile firestorm for what it is and simply stay out of it. After all, what’s the point? Why wade into a “discussion” that will be no discussion at all?
When another asserted something that I thought an error, I deny'd myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear'd or seem'd to me some difference, etc.
Notice that Franklin recognized that contradicting someone abruptly was a pleasure. It’s satisfying in a self-congratulatory way. It feels like a “win.” But at what cost? Let’s see what happened when Franklin denied himself this fleeting “pleasure.”
I soon found the advantage of this change in my manner; the conversations I engag'd in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I propos'd my opinions procur'd them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail'd with others to give up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right.
It’s worth highlighting the four benefits:
- Conversations were more pleasant
- People were more open to his opinions
- He was less embarrassed when he was wrong (and he was able to recognize when he was in the wrong)
- It was easier to get people to join him when he was right
How would you like to have those results? All you have to do is adopt Franklin’s simple approach to conversation. I’ll admit, it takes practice and self-control. But if you really want to be more effective, it’s worth the price. As Franklin says:
And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual to me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard a dogmatical expression escape me.
“With some violence to natural inclination” means it was hard at first. But he was determined. With practice, it became second nature.
How much impact did this approach have on his ability to influence others?
And to this habit (after my character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my points.
The question now is this: How effective do you want to be?
Franklin’s approach runs counter to our natural inclinations. It requires us to subordinate our pride to a higher purpose.
You are no longer communicating to be right, you are communicating to be persuasive.
Your objective is not to win a debate. Your objective is to seek common understanding.
No matter how convinced you are of your own correctness, you are opening the door, however slightly, to the possibility that you could be mistaken. You admit that there might be a better way than the one you are proposing, you just haven’t found it yet. But you’re willing to listen. The answer may not be what the other person is proposing, but it might be closer to their solution than your own.
Which brings us to the second philosophy that I believe can change the world: Aristotle and the Golden Mean.