Do you remember the words to the Kenny Rogers song, The Gambler?
You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em.
Know when to walk away, know when to run.
You never count your money, when you’re sittin’ at the table.
There’ll be time enough for countin’, when the dealin’s done.
My uncle was a county prosecutor in Montana for 30 years. Conflict was part of his job. He was married to my Aunt Jean. He learned never to challenge his wife’s statements. My uncle advised me to never argue with his wife. Kenny Rogers’ lyrics come to mind as I think about his admonition.
I’m betting every one of you have a similar experience to my uncle. No matter how tough a person is, there’s a time to continue the conversation, a time to fold your cards, a time to walk away, and a time to run. The problem for a gambler is knowing what to do at the time.
The Gambler said,
“Son, I’ve made a life out of readin’ people’s faces
And readin’ what their cards were, by the way they held their eyes.”
I’ve had to learn to read people’s faces. My default tendency is to try to reason with dogmatism. I ask them what their source of authority is for their belief.
Usually when I do this, I get either anger, deflection, or silence. At that point I know I am dealing with emotion and not reason. I have come to understand that I really dislike conflict, but because of my experience in a cult for seven years, I deeply want people to think. That’s why I write this column. I want to give to my readers what I wish someone had given to me.
My dogmatism was challenged when I took my parents to Victoria, Canada at the end of my junior year in the cult’s college. We went on a tour of the city. On the tour bus was a woman who worked as a registrar at an eastern college. I told her about the college I attended with its cultish practices and what I believed.
She looked at me in pity, saying, “I feel sorry for you. Don’t you realize you are being taken advantage of?”
Her words stung, but they also stuck. Months later her words ate at me as I experienced living at the sister college in Britain for my senior year. I was confronted by different cultures and different perspectives. I came to discover that the American way of looking at things was only one of many points of view. That understanding was the beginning of many such contrasts that eventually led me out of the cult and out of dogmatism.
Humans have a deep desire for certainty. Unfortunately, we often don’t know why we believe as we do. We just make things up. We are easily motivated by fear or pride. When someone challenges what we believe, we feel threatened. When we feel threatened, reason usually goes out the window.
So, how should we deal with either the anger or silence when confronted with a dogmatist? It depends. It is important to know his/her background and body language. When playing poker, players often have a “tell” that indicates what their inner thoughts are. An adept gambler picks up on those “tells”. This skill can be used with the absolutist, too. The knack comes with experience, self-awareness, and practice.
Douglas Stone in his book, Difficult Conversations, advises readers to listen to what the dogmatic person states, paraphrase their perspective, and calling it that — perspective. Naming it helps the speaker to realize that their point of view is just one of many ways of looking at things. Then give your perspective, emphasizing that it’s yours. Saying “You don’t have to agree” often frees the listener and you from getting defensive and argumentative.
Like being the gambler, dealing with difficult dogmatic people is a challenge. Knowing what your options are in such situations is really important. That’s why my uncle was able to stay married to my aunt for 60 years. That’s why Kenny Rogers’ The Gambler was such a hit song.
Don’t count whether you got your point across until the dealin’s done, either. For me, change came after reflection of months and even years.
Sometimes it never comes.
