How to Disagree Like a Philosopher: The Art of Constructive Discussions

Practical Philosophy3 weeks ago

I don’t think I’ve ever been more hooked on philosophy than when I first discovered Plato’s cave. I came across the allegory in high school, and ever since then, it’s been the lens I see all philosophy through. Because what’s more precious to a philosopher than realizing the truth you believe in… might not be the truth at all?

So you can imagine my surprise when, after a game of beer pong, a buddy of mine explained that Plato got it all wrong.

The Beer Pong Philosopher

This friend of mine never studied philosophy, certainly never read Plato or anything about the allegory, and had just downed a lot of beers (because I schooled him not only in philosophy but in beer pong as well). But here he was, declaring, with full drunken confidence, that Plato was dead wrong. One of the greatest philosophers to ever walk this earth got dismissed by a high schooler who, just fifteen minutes earlier, had argued that homework violated his human rights.

And don’t get me wrong, I love being challenged on my thoughts. In the end, my understanding of Plato grew — I had to defend his theory and answer a lot of critical questions. But I was so excited about this new perspective I had learned and wanted to share it with my friend, hoping he would love it too. Instead of being open to a different take, though, he immediately tried to shoot it down.

I’ve thought about that moment (and many others like it) a lot, and I’ve since realized that there’s a subtle art to having constructive philosophical disagreements. Turns out, disagreeing with someone — especially about big ideas — doesn’t have to end in frustration or eye rolls. So how do we do it right?

“And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away…”

Plato

Ask Questions Now, Disagree Later

It might seem counterintuitive to turn to someone who was sentenced to death not just because he liked to argue, but because his method of constant questioning challenged the powerful and made people uncomfortable. But I think Socrates’ story has a great takeaway: being critical and asking questions is great, but if you’re not tactful about it, you’ll turn people against you.

Even though he eventually pissed off the wrong people, Socrates didn’t argue to win; he questioned to understand. His method, known as the elenchus, involved asking a series of probing questions to help his conversation partners examine their beliefs and uncover contradictions. Rather than presenting his own views, he guided others to insights through dialogue — a core part of what we now call the Socratic method.

In Meno, Socrates leads a boy to solve a geometry problem — not by teaching him directly, but by asking questions that help the boy “recollect” the knowledge himself. It shows his belief that thoughtful questioning helps people arrive at deeper understanding.

So, instead of telling someone they’re wrong, try asking questions. But remember: even gentle questions can feel threatening if someone’s not ready to have their views challenged. Being curious is great — being condescending isn’t. Ask with respect, not with ego. You might not get sentenced to death for asking the wrong questions anymore (at least not in most countries), but people will absolutely block you on social media.

“For I think it is a greater good to be refuted than to refute, for it is a greater good to be released from the worst thing than to release someone else from it.”

Socrates

Disagree with Grace

While Socrates taught us how to engage in philosophical discourse, Stoics like Marcus Aurelius remind us how to be during these exchanges. We like to pretend we’re purely rational beings (especially us wise philosophers), but let’s be real: even the most well-reasoned discussion can stir up pride, defensiveness, or the urge to win. That’s not weakness. That’s human. But recognizing it is key.

Marcus understood this. As a Stoic — and Emperor of Rome — he knew you can’t control how others act, only how you respond. Disrespect? Arrogance? Terrible takes? That’s on them. What mattered to him was staying calm, composed, and focused on truth — not ego.

He believed your role in a disagreement isn’t to dominate or convert the other person, but to act with integrity. That means explaining your view honestly, maybe even correcting someone if needed — but always with humility, not condescension. And if they don’t get it? That’s not your burden to carry.

But there’s something even more powerful in Marcus’ approach: he was willing to be changed. Not in a passive way, but with deep commitment to truth. If someone could show him he was wrong, he didn’t see that as a loss. He saw it as a gift. That’s the kind of mindset that makes disagreement not just bearable, but useful.

“If anyone can refute me—show me I’m making a mistake or looking at things from the wrong perspective—I’ll gladly change. It’s the truth I’m after, and the truth never harmed anyone. What harms us is to persist in self-deceit and ignorance.”

Marcus Aurelius

Agree to Disagree

I realize that letting go of our ego during a heated discussion might be easier said than done. But what I find helps is keeping in mind why disagreements and freedom of thought are so important. And if you need someone to assure you of that fact, look no further than John Stuart Mill — British philosopher and one of the most influential thinkers in the history of liberalism.

Mill believed that disagreement isn’t a threat to truth, it’s one of the best ways to get closer to it. For him, a world where everyone agrees isn’t a strong society; it’s a lazy one. He argued that when no one challenges your views, even your best ideas start to lose their edge. They turn into slogans, not convictions.

He saw opposing opinions (even the obviously wrong ones) as essential. Not because they’re right, but because they force you to think. If someone disagrees with you, and you take them seriously, you have to work through why you believe what you do. That process sharpens your understanding in a way that passive agreement never will.

It reminds me of that beer pong moment. As much as I didn’t like being challenged (especially by someone who hadn’t read a word of Plato) it pushed me to explain what the allegory actually meant, why it mattered, and whether I even understood it as well as I thought. My friend’s criticism wasn’t carefully reasoned, but it forced me to reason more carefully. Mill would’ve called that a win.

Mill’s take flips the script. Instead of seeing disagreement as an obstacle, he saw it as fuel. A challenge isn’t something to avoid, it’s something to learn from. That doesn’t mean every argument is worth your time, but it does mean that the right kind of pushback can make your thinking stronger, clearer, and more alive.

“Truth gains more even by the errors of one who, with due study and preparation, thinks for himself, than by the true opinions of those who only hold them because they do not suffer themselves to think…”

John Stuart Mill

Disagreeing Like a Philosopher

It’s a simple truth of this world: whatever opinion you hold, someone out there will gladly disagree with it — especially nowadays, where every hot take finds its way to a comment section. But imagine if we created a culture where disagreement wasn’t about ego or winning, but about learning. Where arguments weren’t seen as battles, but as invitations to think deeper, together.

Disagreement doesn’t have to divide us. When done with curiosity, respect, and a willingness to be changed, it can actually bring us closer — not just to each other, but to the truth.

So the next time someone tells you the earth is flat, or that Plato didn’t know anything, don’t just roll your eyes. Ask questions. Stay calm. And maybe, just maybe, have a philosophical beer pong moment of your own.

And if you don’t agree with me? That’s great!