On being right and being wrong

Last month I had the opportunity to be in Ireland and spend time with CYC-Online columnist Niall McElwee. At one point Niall raised the question of who said “There are three kinds of lies: lies, damn lies and statistics". Niall thought it was Benjamin Disraeli and I thought it was Mark Twain. Well, to make a long story short, we looked it up and found that the quote was “attributed to Benjamin Disraeli by Mark Twain, although it has not been found anywhere in the writings of Disraeli”.

Who’s right, and who’s wrong? In the case of the argument between Niall and I it could appear that both of us were right and both of us were wrong. Given the answer, we could argue about it forever. (And, trust me, we did.)

This little example reminded me of how often we face such a situation in our work with young people. It shows up in things like arguments about who started a fight, who said what about whom, who caused the problem. And so often who’s right and who’s wrong seems to depend on one's perspective.

In the case of the argument between Niall and me it might be important that Disraeli lived in the U.K. (as does Niall) and Mark Twain lived in North America (as do I). Is it possible that we both thought we were right because of the culture in which were raised? Is it possible that we both learned the same thing and interpreted it differently because of our early experiences. It seems to be one of those cases where who’s right really might depend on cultural influences.

Kids do things which we consider to be wrong. But from their culture, experience, history and perspective, they might be right. (Note that I am not saying that they think it is right) What do we do when we see it one way and they see it another and, in essence, both of us are right “or both of us are wrong “especially when we are not dealing in absolutes?

Sometimes when we work with young people there is no clear right and wrong, even after we have investigated an incident. For me to accept that Niall was right, I would have to accept his cultural interpretation. I would have to accept that his perspective had more validity than mine.

Is this what we ask young people to do? And if we do, is this a good thing to be doing? Yes, I hear you screaming that “it all depends on the incident!” And I agree with you.

Sometimes being right is important. Sometimes it is not. We need to be able to distinguish when it is important, not for us, but for the growth of the young person. If we are going to ask people to give up their way of seeing, of interpreting information or events, we need to make sure it is an important issue. Otherwise, we are only insisting that they “see things our way” for the sake of being important ourselves.

Don’t waste energy working on the unimportant when there are so many important things to work on. Sometimes it is best either to drop the rope or accept the other person's perspective and move on. Doing so not only ends the argument, but might also give the young person that their perspective is equally important.

So, to use the example of the argument about “lies, damn lies and statistics”, when it is clear that it is a question of interpretation there are other responses, such as

"Well, I can see how you see it that way" – which is really just a way of not accepting that the other is right. This is one of those therapeutic “tricks” that we learn to protect ourselves with, I think.

"Okay, lets accept that we are both right" – which also lets me be right, when it may not really be important. It makes me think of someone crying “I am right too” which is hardly how I like to think of youth care workers.

These kinds of answers are common in youth care practice when we get in to arguments with kids but they seem to me to be answers that we use to protect our own fragile egos. We, too, get caught up in being “right” in our work with young people and their families. Yet if we are really there for other, one of the things we try to do is to take the perspective of other. It has tremendous potential for connecting, joining and for simply demonstrating understanding. But to do so, we have to set aside our own need to be right.

Sometimes, especially when we are not dealing with important therapeutic issues or absolutes, it is important to acknowledge that other is right. Not that “I am right too”, or that “it is a case of how you look at things” but simply that the other is right. If we are clear about our own business, other being right does not diminish us at all. And after all, this work is about being there for other, not for self.

So, Niall, I want to say that I agree. You’re right. It was Disraeli who said it “even Mark Twain said so”.