At the ripe old age of seven years, I conceived a burning dislike for the company Mattel.  Some genius at the company approved the idea to package real scissors along with Hair Stylist Barbie, and, like any other creatively endowed seven-year-old, I figured that there were an abundance of hairstyles that would be becoming on Barbie.  After a simple snip with those pink, child-safe scissors, Barbie had gained a new hairstyle.

I was horrified by what I had created.

Because I simply couldn’t let Barbie suffer through the embarrassment of her new hairstyle all on her own, I decided I should bless my sister’s doll with the same fate.

Needless to say, when my four-year-old sister toddled into the room, tears drizzled down her rosy cheeks at the sight of my despicable crime. My stomach somersaulted as I expected my mother to come down the stairs any minute to reprimand me.

While this was not the first time I had tried to justify myself, it certainly would not be my last.  Sometimes I was the guilty party and at other times, I was not.  But the matter of my innocence held little importance in my eyes.  I always argued my case.

One day my sister and I, matured since the Barbie incident, had been arguing over something that I have long since forgotten, but I remember that in this particular incident, I knew that I was right and she was wrong.

My father asked why I could not stop arguing, and I responded that I couldn’t let her feel like she won the argument.  My dad sort of laughed to himself, and then he grabbed an old, tattered copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People from our bookshelf, turning to a certain chapter. Handing me the book, he told me to read aloud the chapter title that he had opened to.

It was entitled “You can’t win an argument,” and from there, I was told to read the first few paragraphs on the page. The chapter went on to tell the story of a group of friends who were out to dinner. One of them had misquoted a Shakespearean line, and everyone knew that he was wrong.  However, the man was adamant that he was right, so the group turned to their friend who happened to be an expert on the particular subject. Instead, he agreed with the man, so he could bring an end to the argument.

When arguing, it is nearly impossible to “win.” If the debate is about personal opinions, both sides of the party usually so hold strongly to their beliefs that neither are willing to compromise their opinions.  By the end of the argument, typically, people lean towards their side all the  more strongly. When an argument is about a fact, then even if you were to win, it only leaves your friend feeling frustrated and embarrassed.

However, I know that for myself, I will go down with my opinion as a captain would his sinking ship, if it were in defense of my pride.  Most of the times when I will not let an issue go, it is because I don’t want to come out of the argument looking like an ignorant fool. Yet, it is a matter of letting go of one’s pride.

Arguments can never truly be “won.” Both parties are rarely satisfied when they leave an argument. While debating one’s beliefs may be necessary in some cases, petty arguments such as who sings the song “Empire State of Mind” should be let go almost as quickly as they start. They simply reap no benefit.