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By asking questions rather than thinking for the audience, we invite
them to join us as a partner and think for themselves. If we approach an
argument as a war, there will be winners and losers. If we see it more as a
dance, we can begin to choreograph a way forward.

This success isn’t unique to her: there’s evidence that people are more interested in hiring candidates who acknowledge legitimate weaknesses as opposed to bragging or humblebragging.

Psychologists have long found that the person most likely to persuade
you to change your mind is you. You get to pick the reasons you find most
compelling, and you come away with a real sense of ownership over them.

We won’t have much luck changing other people’s minds if we refuse
to change ours. We can demonstrate openness by acknowledging where we agree with our critics and even what we’ve learned from them. Then, when we ask what views they might be willing to revise, we’re not hypocrites.

When we argue about why, we run the risk of becoming emotionally attached to our positions and dismissive of the other side’s. We’re more likely to have a good fight if we argue about how.

Starting a disagreement by asking, “Can we debate?” sends a message that
you want to think like a scientist, not a preacher or a prosecutor—and
encourages the other person to think that way, too

Experiments show that simply framing a dispute as a debate rather than
as a disagreement signals that you’re receptive to considering dissenting
opinions and changing your mind, which in turn motivates the other person
to share more information with you. A disagreement feels personal and
potentially hostile; we expect a debate to be about ideas, not emotions.

Disagreeable people don’t just challenge us to think again. They also
make agreeable people comfortable arguing, too.

John’s natural tendency is to avoid conflict: at restaurants, if the waiter brings him the wrong dish, he just goes ahead and eats it anyway. “But when I’m involved in something bigger than myself,” he observes, “I feel like I have an opportunity, a responsibility really, to speak up, speak out, debate. Fight like hell when the morning whistle blows, but go out for a beer after the one at five o’clock.”

It’s possible to disagree without being disagreeable. Although I’m terrified of hurting other people’s feelings, when it comes to challenging their thoughts, I have no fear. In fact, when I argue with someone, it’s not a display of disrespect—it’s a sign of respect. It means I value their views enough to contest them. If their opinions didn’t matter to me, I wouldn’t bother.

Disagreeable givers often make the best critics: their intent is to elevate the work, not feed their own egos. They don’t criticize because they’re insecure; they challenge because they care. They dish out tough love.*

We learn more from people who challenge our thought process than
those who affirm our conclusions. Strong leaders engage their critics and
make themselves stronger. Weak leaders silence their critics and make
themselves weaker.

There’s evidence that disagreeable people speak up more frequently—especially when leaders aren’t receptive—and foster more task conflict. They’re like the doctor in the show House or the boss in the film The Devil Wears Prada. They give the critical feedback we might not want to hear, but need to hear.

Yet research shows that how often parents argue has no bearing on their children’s academic, social, or emotional development. What matters is how respectfully parents argue, not how frequently. Kids whose parents clash constructively feel more emotionally safe in elementary school, and over the next few years they actually demonstrate more helpfulness and compassion toward their classmates.

A meta-analysis of those studies showed that relationship conflict is generally bad for performance, but some task conflict can be beneficial: it’s been linked to higher creativity and smarter choices.

Every time we encounter new information, we have a choice. We can
attach our opinions to our identities and stand our ground in the
stubbornness of preaching and prosecuting. Or we can operate more like
scientists, defining ourselves as people committed to the pursuit of truth—
even if it means proving our own views wrong.

Psychologists find that admitting we were wrong doesn’t make us look less competent. It’s a display of honesty and a willingness to learn. Although scientists believe it will damage their reputation to admit that their studies failed to replicate, the reverse is true: they’re judged more favorably if they acknowledge the new data rather than deny them.

Research suggests that the more frequently we make fun of ourselves, the happier we tend to be.* Instead of beating ourselves up about our mistakes, we can turn some of our past misconceptions into sources of present amusement.

If you want to be a better forecaster today, it helps to let go of your commitment to the opinions you held yesterday. Just wake up in the morning, snap your fingers, and decide you don’t care. It doesn’t matter who’s president or what happens to your country. The world is unjust and the expertise you spent decades developing is obsolete! It’s a piece of cake, right?

???

“It’s not a lie if you believe it.” I might add that it doesn’t become the truth just because you believe it. It’s a sign of wisdom to avoid believing every thought that enters your mind. It’s a mark of emotional intelligence to avoid internalizing every feeling that enters your heart.

That’s where the best forecasters excelled: they were eager to think
again. They saw their opinions more as hunches than as truths—as
possibilities to entertain rather than facts to embrace. They questioned ideas before accepting them, and they were willing to keep questioning them even after accepting them. They were constantly seeking new information and better evidence—especially disconfirming evidence.

Better judgment doesn’t necessarily require hundreds or even dozens of updates. Just a few more efforts at rethinking can move the needle. It’s also worth noting, though, how unusual that level of rethinking is. How many of us can even remember the last time we admitted being wrong and revised our opinions
accordingly?

Who you are should be a question of what you value, not what you
believe. Values are your core principles in life—they might be excellence
and generosity, freedom and fairness, or security and integrity. Basing your
identity on these kinds of principles enables you to remain open-minded
about the best ways to advance them

Most of us are accustomed to defining ourselves in terms of our beliefs,
ideas, and ideologies. This can become a problem when it prevents us from
changing our minds as the world changes and knowledge evolves. Our
opinions can become so sacred that we grow hostile to the mere thought of being wrong, and the totalitarian ego leaps in to silence counterarguments,squash contrary evidence, and close the door on learning.

As Bridgewater founder Ray Dalio told me, “If you don’t look back at yourself and think, ‘Wow, how stupid I was a year ago,’ then you must not have learned much in the last year.”

Great thinkers don’t harbor doubts because they’re impostors. They
maintain doubts because they know we’re all partially blind and they’re
committed to improving their sight. They don’t boast about how much they
know; they marvel at how little they understand. They’re aware that each
answer raises new questions, and the quest for knowledge is never finished.

Plenty of evidence suggests that confidence is just as often the result of
progress as the cause of it. We don’t have to wait for our confidence to rise
to achieve challenging goals. We can build it through achieving challenging
goals.

Some surveys suggest that more than half the people you know have felt like impostors at some point in their careers. It’s thought to be especially common among women and marginalized groups.

What we want to attain is confident humility: having faith in our capability
while appreciating that we may not have the right solution or even be
addressing the right problem. That gives us enough doubt to reexamine our
old knowledge and enough confidence to pursue new insights.

You can be confident in your ability to achieve a goal in the future
while maintaining the humility to question whether you have the right tools in the present. That’s the sweet spot of confidence.