How Do You Deal with a Political Friend?

A friend just emailed asking what to do with a professional colleague who can’t get a job. A talented guy, he likes to blog and tweet against about political correctness and coddled minorities. He thinks “diversity” is a form of bigotry, women can’t take a joke, and “anchor babies” sneer at the 14th amendment.  All this would probably get him a shot at the White House. But he’s not applying for that job.

My pal spent hours trying to help him. “His career is in a tailspin, but he won’t accept the fact that all his outbursts on social media are a big reason.” Finally, my friend gave up. “What would you have done?” he asked.

As someone who writes books on persuasion, I often get asked about political friends—people who take the First Amendment as a license to be rude. Actually, it is; you have the constitutional right to hurt people’s feelings. But other people have the right to think you’re a jerk, even when you’re not. Hardly a great qualification for employment.

Here’s what I try to explain to people who think they should say whatever they want and that the world should hire them anyway.

It’s still a free country.

Employers reasonably want to avoid spending five days a week working with an overly opinionated person, especially one who might be bad for business.

Every job application is a sales job.

To sell anything—including yourself—you need to persuade. That means starting with your audience’s beliefs and expectations, and using those beliefs to guide them toward the choice you want.

Persuasion starts with fitting in.

A guy who hurts the feelings of people he may end up working with—including African Americans, Hispanics, and women—probably won’t fit in. Geek alert: the Latin for “fitting in” is decorum. In rhetoric, the art of persuasion, decorum means being suited to your environment. It’s like planting a rubber tree in the Sahara. The tree will fail to fit in, and so it will die. If you tweet objectionable things about people you’re trying to work with, you’re a rubber tree.

This isn’t about rights. It’s about your career drying up.

But wait, you’re not racist or sexist!

Good for you. The problem is, persuasion is all about what your audience thinks. If an employer finds you a jerk, saying “I’m not an jerk” will probably fail to persuade her.

There’s political correctness, and then there’s being rude.

People who yell at you for eating the wrong fish in a restaurant are being rude. Similarly, people who have a hissy fit when you wish them a happy holiday instead of the conservatively correct “Merry Christmas” are also being rude.

The rules change over time and with different groups. In 1939, when my mother saw “Gone with the Wind,” the audience was shocked at Rhett Butler’s “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Cursing in a movie! But then, my mother had to sit in the balcony because the family’s African-American cook had brought her: no “Negroes” allowed in the good seats.

Society gets ruder in some ways, more polite in others. Call these changing rules “political correctness” if you want. But to get a job, you need to know the rules of employers. Go ahead and say whatever truths pop up in your head. But don’t expect to be rewarded with a job.

No, free speech isn’t dead.

Nobody is going to prosecute you for being a jerk on social media. So here’s what I would say to my friend’s colleague: “Hey, I admire you for standing up for your principles. You’re a real martyr for your cause!”

And then I’d remind him that McDonald’s is hiring.

 

The Best Pickup Line? It's the Best Pickup Person

I get asked this question all the time: "Hey, Persuasion Guy..." (Actually, nobody calls me Persuasion Guy, though I wish they would). "What's the most surefire pickup line in a bar?"

Dude. (That's what I call guys who want pickup lines.) If a woman wants you to pick her up, just don't say anything that blows it. The woman will be judging you more than your lines. Which brings us to the theory of Ethos, your expressed character.

First, show that you care about the woman. A great pickup line? Ask her a question about herself. Compliment her shoes and ask where she got them. (Straight guys rarely compliment a woman's shoes, so at the least you'll surprise her.) This is eunoia, disinterested good will. It's the Caring part of Ethos.

Next, show you know what you're doing. Signal the bartender suavely. This is phronesis, the Craft part of Ethos.

Finally, show respect and good manners. That's arete, or virtue, the cause part. You're a genuinely good guy.

Yeah, some women aren't looking for a genuinely good guy. They're looking for an exciting, even dangerous guy. In which case, work harder on your Craft. And here you're on your own. I've been happily married for too long to look dangerous. 

Here's a video Christina and I made. I cut out the part where she talks about what she thinks is the perfect line. Sorry. She already has Ryan Gosling as an imaginary boyfriend. - JAY


The Eddie Haskell Ploy: My Favorite Way to Teach the Art of Concession

The Roman rhetoricians were big on concessio, the art of using an opponent's points to your own advantage. 

It's a hard thing for younger arguers to learn. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, right? Best defense is an offense, right? But what if you can turn those torpedoes around? 

The most extreme form of concession is what I call the Eddie Haskell Ploy. Instead of just using the opponent's points, you enthusiastically endorse her view! Why would you want to do this? Well, that depends on what you want to get out of the argument. Scoring on points isn't always the best goal. In the long run, a relationship or political standing or reputation might be more important.

Caution: Only use the Eddie Haskell Ploy if you're bound to lose anyway. You can only snatch this kind of victory from the jaws of defeat.

Here's a video on how it's used. -Jay


How to Point Out a Fallacy without Sounding Like a Jerk

Here's the shortest answer you'll ever get from us: You can't. Unless you're a teacher, pointing out a fallacy just makes you look like a logical bully. Or, worse, a logician.

Correcting a fallacy is like correcting someone's grammar: Unless you're a teacher or parent, just let it slide. Rhetoric teaches you that winning an argument means winning over people, not just scoring points. It means getting your audience to like and trust you. Being a logic snob does not make you likable.

On the other hand, what if you have a ready audience besides your illogical friend? In that case, you can try taking the fallacy literally and following it to its hilarious end. You may get a laugh.  Even from your friend, if he's a good sport.

We made this video with an example from our favorite logician, Homer Simpson.


Speech's Greatest Teaching Tool: Prosopopoeia

Prosopopoeia (pro-so-po-PEE-ah) used to be something every student did. It involved channeling the voice and character of great historical or literary figures, often in different settings. A great way to use it today: have Martin Luther King debate Jeb Bush in inequality. Or Thomas Jefferson argue about climate change. Or Chris Rock explain to King George III why British policy in the colonies isn't working.

See this video for more.


How to Get Out of a Traffic Ticket

If you've read Thank You for Arguing, this story will seem familiar. A cop gives you a ticket for going a couple miles an hour over the speed limit. The temptation for sarcasm is awful. What do you do?

The first thing to do in any disagreement is to set your goal. Most people want to win an argument on points, as if a panel of Olympic debate judges will raise scorecards. But to win a deliberative argument, it's best not to try to outscore your opponent. Try instead to get your way.

In this case, you want to get out of a ticket. The secret: be the good citizen the cop wants you to be. Agree with him...tactically. ArgueLab's Christina Fox demonstrates:

For more videos, click here.