How to Argue Politics at the Holiday Table and Still Be Invited Back

The turkey is carved, the gravy is somewhere between lava and glue, and your brother-in-law has just cleared his throat in the way that means a speech is coming. You have two choices. You can say what you think, loudly, and enjoy about ninety seconds of the sweet feeling that comes with being right. Or you can say what you think well, and still be sitting at that table next year, passing the rolls.

I'm in favor of arguing. Conservatives should not be shy about their convictions at the dinner table or anywhere else, and a family that never talks about anything important has traded closeness for quiet. But there is a difference between winning an argument and winning a person. You can do the first and lose the second, and the second is the one you have to live with at Christmas.

So here is a plan. It is built on a simple observation: nobody has ever been shouted into agreement over pie. People change their minds when they feel respected, when the question is a real one, and when the exit is open. The steps below are meant to be used in order, and the later ones assume you have done the earlier ones. Think of it as a playbook for people who intend to be both persuasive and invited back.

Step one: decide before you arrive which topics are worth it

The biggest mistake happens in the driveway. You walk in with no plan, and when the first provocation lands, you answer it, because you cannot not answer it. By dessert you have fought on five fronts and won none.

Pick, ahead of time, the one or two subjects you are willing to talk about, and the ones you are not. A decent test for each topic:

1. Is the person open to hearing it? A relative who has announced he is done with this conversation is not going to be persuaded over stuffing. Respect that.
2. Is there anyone at the table who is trying to enjoy a meal? A grandmother who gets anxious when voices rise has a vote too.
3. Is it a thing you can actually move in one conversation? Almost never. The goal at a holiday table is not conversion. It is to leave the other person a little more curious about your side and a little less sure that you are a cartoon.
4. Does it matter to you more than the relationship? If the honest answer is yes about a particular subject, then do not bring it up at a family dinner. Go write a letter to the editor.

Then write down your one sentence: "If it comes up, what I want this person to take away is ____." That sentence is your anchor. A single clear point lands. Ten scattered ones sound like a rant.

Step two: ask a question before you make a claim

This is the hardest step to do and the most effective. When someone says something you think is wrong, resist the urge to correct it. Ask a question instead. A good question is a real one. You are not setting a trap, and you should be able to say in your own head what the answer would teach you.

• "What worries you most about that?"
• "How did you come to see it that way?"
• "What would a good solution look like to you?"
• "Is there a case where you'd feel differently?"

There are three reasons this works. First, it slows things down. Second, you learn what the person really thinks, which is often narrower and more reasonable than the version you were preparing to refute. Third, you earn the right to be heard. People will listen to the person who listened to them, and a lot of political shouting is simply the sound of two people who feel unheard.

You will also sometimes discover that you agree on more than you thought, and that the fight you were braced for was about a word and not a policy. That counts as a win.

Step three: state their view well enough that they would sign it

Before you say a word about why they are wrong, say back what they believe, and say it so well that they nod. Something like: "So if I've got it right, you think the city should do this because families can't afford the alternative, and you feel like the people who oppose it don't care about that. Is that fair?"

If they say "no, not quite," good. Let them fix it. Now you actually know their position. If they say "yes, exactly," you have just done something almost nobody does in a political argument: you made the other person feel understood.

This is the technique serious debaters use, and for the same reason. You cannot beat an argument you have not understood, and the only way to prove you understood it is to state it in terms its owner would accept. It is also a matter of plain fairness. A view held by someone you love deserves to be described accurately before it is disagreed with.

Step four: separate the fact from the value

Most family arguments are really two arguments tangled up, and they cannot be settled the same way.

A factual claim is something that is true or false and can be checked: how a law works, what a program costs, what a court held, what a bill says. Facts can be looked up. The right response to a factual dispute is "Let's check," and you can both pull out your phones. Offer to look together at the actual text rather than dueling summaries. If you want a method for quickly sizing up a claim, see How to Spot a Misleading Statistic Before It Spots You, With Worked Examples.

A value claim is a judgment about what matters: what is fair, what government should do, how to weigh liberty against security, how much to trust an institution. No source settles a value dispute. Two decent people can look at the same facts and weigh them differently.

Name which one you are having. "I think we disagree on the facts here, and we can check them" is a very different sentence from "I think we weigh this differently, and that's fair." The first can end in a resolution. The second can end in respect. Both beat what usually happens, which is two people hurling facts at each other as though they were fighting over values, or hurling values at each other as though they were facts.

This is also the place to be honest about your own side. If a fact you believed turns out to be shakier than you thought, say so. "Huh, I'll look into that" is the most persuasive sentence in the English language, because it shows you are not just defending a team.

Step five: use one example, not ten

People cannot absorb a list. When your uncle says something that sets you off, the temptation is to unload every statistic, every case and every outrage you have ever stored. Don't. Choose the one example that is true, concrete and easy to picture, and let it work.

A good example has three properties: it involves a real mechanism you can explain in two sentences; it is something the other person can check later; and it is not an insult. "Here's how that rule works for a family in a small town" lands better than "you people always..." Give the one example, then stop talking. The silence after it is where the thinking happens.

If they reply with their own single example, treat it with the same respect. Say what is persuasive about it. Then explain, calmly, why you read the evidence differently. You are not conceding the argument by saying their example has force. You are showing that you are weighing it.

Step six: set your exit line

Every argument needs a way out that does not make anyone lose face. Decide on yours before you sit down. Good exit lines are short, warm and final:

• "I don't think either of us is going to change the other's mind today, and I'd rather not spoil the pie. Can we pick this up another time?"
• "You've given me something to think about. I'm going to go check that."
• "I love you, I disagree with you, and I'd like some more of the green beans."
• "Let's agree that we both want what's best for the kids and we disagree about how to get there."

Notice what these have in common. None of them concedes the point. None of them insults. And each one takes the temperature down without declaring a winner.

Know your own signs, too. If your voice is rising, your jaw is tight or you have started saying "always" and "never," that is the signal to use the line. Take a walk, refill the water pitcher or offer to help with the dishes. The kitchen is the greatest de-escalation tool ever invented in a family home.

Step seven: leave the door open

The argument you have at the table is not the last argument. Often it is the first of several. People rarely change their minds in the moment, but they do change them over time, after hearing the same point from someone they trust, in a calm setting, repeated without heat. If you leave the table with the relationship intact, you can send the article next month, or ask the person for coffee, or text a follow-up fact you looked up. If you leave it in ruins, none of that is possible.

Take the long view. Our movement has been in the persuasion business for generations. It won the arguments it won by being patient, specific and willing to explain, not by being the loudest voice in the room. The same applies in the dining room.

Sample scripts for the three topics most likely to come up

These are starters, not a recipe. Change the words to sound like you.

Topic one: prices and taxes

A relative says: "Everything costs too much, and it's all the government's fault."

You might say: "It sure feels that way at the register. What's the thing you've noticed going up the most?" (Wait for the answer.) "Let me make sure I understand: you're saying it's the grocery bill that really hit, and you feel like nobody in Washington noticed. Fair?" Then, if you disagree about the cause: "I read it a bit differently. I think part of it is how much the government spends and borrows, which is a long-run thing. If you're open to it, I'd be glad to look at how that works. Meanwhile, what would you want to see changed first?"

For the kitchen-table version of why the numbers matter, see Inflation is the one tax that never needs a vote in Congress and three households and one grocery bill, budget scenarios when prices jump.

Topic two: immigration

A relative says: something sharp about people at the border, or something sharp about the other side's motives.

You might say: "I think we may actually agree that there should be a system that works. Can I ask what you think the system should look like?" Then restate their view. Then: "Here's where I come out: I want the law enforced and I want legal immigration to function, because both of those are about fairness to the people who followed the rules. Where do you see the biggest problem?" Keep it on policy, laws and procedures, and off people. A good rule: if a sentence would sound wrong said to a neighbor's face, rewrite it.

Topic three: the President

A relative says: something harsh, or glowing, about a President or a party.

You might say: "I think people feel strongly about this because they care about the country. What's the single thing you'd most want a President to get right?" Then listen. If they criticize or praise a particular decision, ask, "What would you have wanted him to do instead?" Separate the person from the policy. If the conversation turns toward insults, use the exit line. Nothing on a holiday table is improved by calling someone's candidate a name.

What not to do

A short list of things that always make it worse. Don't interrupt. Don't bring a phone out as a weapon (bring it out only as a shared reference, and only if the other person agrees). Don't say "you're being emotional" or "you just don't understand." Don't argue with someone who is drinking heavily, and don't argue with someone who has told you he is finished. Don't recruit allies against one relative. And never relitigate in the group chat the next morning.

For the larger question of why disagreement without contempt is a conservative virtue, and not a sign of weakness, see Civil Discourse Is Not Surrender, and Lincoln and Scalia Prove It. For a broader map of what these arguments are really about, The Culture War as Five Big Arguments, With Each Side at Its Best sets out five of them with each side stated fairly.

The bottom line

• Pick your battles before you walk in. Choose one or two topics, write your one sentence, and let the rest go.
• Ask first, restate second, claim third. A question and a fair summary of their view earn you the right to be heard.
• Sort fact from value. Check facts together. Respect honest disagreements about what matters.
• One example beats ten. Pick the clearest, most checkable case and then stop talking.
• Have an exit line and use it. You can disagree and still pass the rolls. The relationship is the long game, and next year's dinner is the proof you played it well.