Ideological feminism has this notion that men and women do happen to have different genitalia and reproductive cells, but every other difference you notice or hear about is the result of socialization. Tacit exceptions to this rule are made for too-obvious differences like lactation, height, etc, but these are treated as superficial and not worth mentioning. If you dwell on any of these, it's suspicious.

But we don't just happen to have different genitalia. The two sexes go back about 500 million years, well before the first humans or even protohumans - or for that matter, the first primates or mammals. Since not just prehistory but prehumanity, the sexes have existed and often looked and behaved quite differently.

Saying this, especially if you're a man today, sounds like rationalizing. But it isn't rationalizing anything. It's a blank statement that's almost impossible to deny.

Seeing the tree of life and human history, is it peculiar to acknowledge or accept aspects we can't overturn (and would we want to, and if so, why)?

The fact women and men have a few different physical features is seen as this inconvenient excuse for patriarchal oppression. It has been misused that way on both ends. But women and men have a few different physical features for a reason - actually, for many reasons.

Importantly, there are good reasons a gender-based division of labor appeared in early societies and persisted.

That may sound like rationalizing, but is it? The word "good" is a matter of opinion, but the presence of factors critical to survival individually and as a species is not. Today we have vastly greater understanding of where all this comes from biologically and how it works. It's curious that a sizeable chunk of the rhetoric acts as if we know less than before, or not any more.

Past cultures evolved, adopted, and maintained gender roles because they believed that was best, and because on some level, it seemed to work and made sense to them. They looked around nature and saw countless examples of sex/gender differences that did not appear to have anything to do with socialization.

We view evidence of these roles today as this dirty thing, this deep moral failing, even this institutionalized malice.

I don't quite buy it.

I know oppression is real, and I know it has existed since prehistory. That no one can deny, nor do I know why anyone would want to deny the fact, other than feelings of defensiveness, complicity, or guilt.

But the reactive, auto-moralizing angle - it's almost as if a matriarchal society would by default be good, and a patriarchal society would by default be bad. I even feel this way myself. Quite deeply, sometimes. But matriarchy is not inherently more equitable than patriarchy - unless we posit that women are better at being equitable when in power. And you know what? I'm willing to believe that. But it's a bit of a contradiction to the ideology, isn't it? And the difference in tendencies toward violence is not adequately explained by socialization, in my opinion. You could hypothesize that socialization covers and explains any such difference. And I don't think you'd be entirely wrong. But you wouldn't be entirely right, either - again, in my opinion, judging by the evidence I see. (Is it immoral to make one's most honest assessment of evidence and say so? It seems to me that anything less is a better candidate for immoral, if anything. But I'm not driving that last angle, just suggesting some perspective.)

Thesis, antithesis, synthesis. It's a helpful mental trick.

Thesis: men and women are fundamentally different and belong in different roles because of natural aptitudes.

Antithesis: men and women are identical except for genitalia (and whatever physically apparent differences we can't deny), and any other difference you see is the result of socialization, oppression, or, usually, both.

Synthesis: I don't need to spell it out, do I? You're an intelligent person. It isn't black and white. People are people and that's always important. Let people be who they are. Understand each other and work together. Don't oppress. Don't tell people who they must and must not be. Don't belittle or mock or discourage or harangue people for stepping outside your preconceived notions for them. Harm is the measure of evil, including psychological harm, and safety and learning the measures of justice. Be welcoming to people who are different from you, because you want to be welcomed when the time comes that you are different.

If men and women are equal but not always the same even in overall pattern, then where one gender/sex shows a tendency toward a flaw that the other overcomes more easily, that suggests a similar breakdown somewhere else, with the tables turned. If women in power are less violent and more equitable and compassionate than men, on average, then somewhere else, can't we imagine that men might do better than women, on average, without oppressing anyone?

If we accept that possibility, we understand why past cultures had the divisions of labor they developed over so much time and so many generations. Were they perfect? Of course not. Have we grown out of that overly simplified phase of history? Or course we have, thankfully; anyway, we're growing out of it. But I decline to hate past generations at large for failing to discover and promulgate our current sensibilities. They were where they were. We are where we are. If the arc continues, we'll look pretty mean and stupid in turn. It's best to extend the olive branch both ways.

(Note: I am not insisting on any non-physically-obvious average difference or natural tendency as a fact, here. That's for science to hash out. What I'm doing is insisting on the possibility, out of concern for truth. To brush these thoughts aside as if they didn't exist, and deny biologically likely possibilities as if the ideology and an attendant moral sense in themselves proved such average natural differences with relevance for life direction couldn't exist, would make me feel intellectually dishonest. We can be considerate and support each other's freedom and pursuit of happiness without dishonesty. To put it another way that's more down to earth, if I notice guys tend to act one way and girls tend to act another, I could ask myself the question: is it natural, is it socialized, or is it in the mind of the beholder, ie, am I just falling for a stereotype and seeing what I expect to see? Or is it some mix of all of these? Typically I might guess the latter, but I would be extra careful about falling for a stereotype. Regardless, I can and maybe should ask that question because I do not automatically know the answer. And in any given situation, I'm willing to bet, if you're honest, neither do you. You don't know. We have opinions. And there's some science. But until science answers the question, any plausible hypothesis should be open. And if the hypothesis remains open today, I'm willing to forgive someone who didn't know what I don't know hundreds or thousands of years ago, at least for just not knowing, and maybe thinking they know, like many people who don't actually know.)

Anyone could be wrong about anything. So yes, whatever you're arguing about, you could be wrong about it. You don't even have to analyze that. You could. You're an anyone, and it's an anything. End of story. Admit it. If you can't, that means you might be less likely to be right, not more likely. It means you're clinging, clenching, inflexible, in defensive mode.

I think most people when they're young get ideas like strong, quick, resilient, sharp, pretty, handsome, flexible, healthy, and slim attached to their identities. Maybe not all of those, but a good number. As you age, you lose part of your identity, because these qualities you took for granted as yours - even if you tried not to - begin to vanish.

It's difficult to reconcile what you are with what you were. If you are lucky, you haven't taken these things too much for granted, and you have taken care of yourself and others well, and you have advanced in many areas, which offsets the losses.

There are two reasons you might feel everyone else is a bull in a china shop. First, you are mistaken. Second, you have a special and true sensitivity.

It can be tough to figure out which. And there are plenty of shades of gray.

I consider it a kind of weakness in constitution when someone notices imperfections I've noticed too, but then they can't see any further.

For example, I'm pretty acutely aware of spelling and grammar issues as I read. It isn't something I can just turn off. It's very distracting trying to read sloppy text. However, if someone sends me an essay, story, script, or poem, I will work around my tendency to glom onto the surface defects. I might edit the text myself as I go. Or I might just make extra effort to see past the proverbial grime on the window.

I would never read something and call it crap simply because it has surface issues. If the thing had any kind of promise, I'd be looking for that, and I'd probably notice it.

There are times I've stopped reading an ebook because of a typo, but I wouldn't leave an angry review of that edition (if I wrote a review I would mention it), nor would I think it has anything to do with the quality of the substance, even if the typo definitely came from the author and there were many other typos. This stuff is trivial. You get it right so people can focus on the good stuff. It has little to do with the good stuff otherwise.

Someone with poor grammar might not be a good stylist with language, but then again, they still might.

The closed-mindedness that does not even imagine otherwise angers me, but I recognize it too is just another imperfection.

No matter how great a piece of fiction is (or anything else made by humans), someone out there is saying it's overrated.

"Overrated" is an overrated comment. "Overrated" according to who? You mean you don't like it as much as others do. Ah. Well why didn't you say so? It sounds so much less pretentious when you tune up the accuracy of your statement.

I'm almost always a little dismayed by the attitude of people who will approach something that has succeeded wildly, who will try it out, not like it much, and then prance about calling it "overrated" to anyone who will listen.

I suppose it might be. But why would I trust your judgment on that unless you're showing other signs of good judgment? And in fact, why would I trust your judgment on that? No matter how classic, there will be plenty of these naysayers. They never seem to notice how predictable and unmeaningful their presence is.

Why are you so sure that you got everything out of it that's in there?

Why do I so constantly find myself grasping works and their strengths and weaknesses far better than what these supposed connoisseurs display?

People say "overrated" usually to excuse themselves from making further effort. Only very rarely is it the conclusion of exhaustive analysis. On the contrary, it's a sloppy self-congratulation. Everyone else thinks this is great, but you know better, you intellectual slayer, you.

It's almost comical how easily people fall for their own weaknesses, thinking those weaknesses belong to someone else they're talking about.

By all means criticize. Just try to do so intelligently and with a little humility and open-mindedness.

You can tell that many people think criticizing something proves it's bad and the critic is smart.

When people dismiss a whole thing because they're quibbling over details or exaggerating imperfections, that just seems lazy and egotistical to me.

I'm a teacher. Any half-decent teacher is attuned to many wide spectra of possibility. A young violinist, for example, could be inexperienced and not very good at A, B, or C, but still talented and amazing at D through M.

Most people who proudly denounce expressive works, for example, do manage to point out a few items that aren't perfect. But they often seem rotten at spotting the value of challenging works and the various (obvious and unobvious) upsides to what they are so sure they rightly scorn as fatal flaws.

There's nothing quite like a vicious, badly written, brief, half-assed review declaring the stupidity and emptiness of a work that has inspired multiple brilliant writers through entire careers, and many others besides. For someone who happens to genuinely love that work, how exactly does the reviewer think their (shall we say) effort comes across? It's odd being told you're stupid for seeing many things another person missed - by the person who missed them. They could say this experience made them feel stupid (a thing I consider very respectable and relatable to say), rather than project that insecurity everywhere else. It's just a bad look to call others stupid when you clearly don't understand yourself.

These things aren't black and white. Any feature has functional and dysfunctional implications, and all of this varies with purpose, context, mood. The fatal flaw for you might be the spark plug for someone else. It takes a little humility to recognize this.

It's like certain reviewers (probably most, actually) assemble a checklist in their heads, and then they play whackamole with whatever they can grab, trying to feel good about themselves by pointing out "fatal flaws." Meanwhile the creators prove them wrong by putting those fatal flaws in stunning and enduring works, sometimes all the stronger for willingness to discard a narrow-minded checklist.

These people not only wouldn't spot a diamond in the rough. They try to destroy large, beautifully cut diamonds out of ego. Fortunately diamonds are hard and tend to survive petty hacking.

There are certain phrases people use when describing fiction that sound clever without saying much. "Social commentary," "world building," and "flat characters" all give an impression of refinement, but they're rarely if ever delved into. Usually it's better to avoid these phrases and say what you mean in more detail. Using the phrase doesn't make the review sound any savvier to me.

It's a bit like the word "utilize." You didn't notice all you said was "use"? "Utilize" is "use" + "I'm feeling self-important." These other phrases also risk betraying self-importance rather than meaning.

Instead of referencing "great world building," why not say what's great about it? Instead of "there's so much social commentary," why not paraphrase what the commentary is saying here and there? You didn't like the characters much? "Flat characters" sounds as if you know what you're talking about, but it's rarely justified. More often than not, it's a fancy way of saying "I didn't like the characters."

The more negative reviews I read of books, the more I respect the competent reviewers who put aside ego and approach a work with balance.

Almost anyone can rip a work to shreds. It isn't difficult. It might make your teeth sound sharp. Then again, it might make you sound like a fool high on yourself. Your teeth might sound so sharp that they chew up your brain through your tongue.

People who write bitter reviews of expressive works tend to believe that pointing out flaws deftly proves that the work is worthless. They consider it self-evident that calling a trait an error makes it an error, and that errors invalidate a work. If you don't enjoy something, you count off 5 kvetches on your fingers, make them sound legit, and stride off with a swelling in your chest that says you know your stuff.

That's a shitty way to review. It's lazy. It's overly subjective. And underneath, it's more concerned about self-image and reputation than it is about understanding the work or providing a solid recommendation to others.

When was the last time you witnessed this proud kind of reviewer considering the merits and pitfalls around a certain feature, balancing what works and doesn't work about it, wondering what the author intended here, what the alternatives might have been, what it brings to the table even if it isn't perfect? You don't see this, because the bitter reviewers aren't thinking like this. They're out to show off that they know better than a famous writer. It's possible that they do, of course, of course, but if they take an enduring classic and show no sign of having appreciated anything that was unique or réussi about it, then their review, to me, is mostly a negative review of their own critical faculties.

When I listen to music, like popular music, the music of young people, I start thinking about relationships. It makes me mopey. I'm starting to get old enough that it doesn't seem so crazy to put all of that behind me entirely. It's something I've often both intended and lived. Most of my life has been single, unpartnered. But I go to the gym, or get tired of my book on a walk and play a song, and all the old pain and longing wells up again. And I wonder if this is secretly why old people don't listen to young people's music anymore. It brings up too much. There's too much lost, too much irrecoverable, too much that can't be fixed, too much hopeless. I could still choose to live another way, with another purpose - I think. But eventually you cannot even choose. Eventually it's all gone.

It's the plight of the empathetic person that you will often lack empathy. It's partly because you are considerate that you notice, or that when someone tells you, you listen.

Empathy is not a fundamental requirement in all situations. You have the right to feel or not. But if you are the empathetic sort, you know there's so much more work to do.

As Einstein once said (I paraphrase), if you think you have problems with math, I assure you, mine are far greater.

I'm far from the most empathetic person, nor am I comparing myself to Einstein. But I notice my deficiency constantly. And I am after all on the empathetic side. That isn't my doing, not entirely. What I realize is that my natural gift of empathy, like in all likeliness yours, makes life dramatically richer. I'm thankful for it. I do not take it entirely for granted.

Compassion is the air empathy breathes. Without compassion, empathy doesn't do much good. And when empathy fails, compassion is still possible.

I've always felt creatively deficient. Then I realize... always. Not always. Usually. Sometimes I am not. The space between the two can fill a boat and sink it. Or it could propel a piece of confetti into orbit. Why would you want to do that? It's something I suppose.

Organizing cables is actually pretty difficult.

What you generally want is:

• Cables out of the way, even hidden
• Everything very easily unpluggable at once for lightning storms
• The identity of the appliance unambiguous from its plug
• The power block very easily accessible to encourage maintenance
• No tangling, so no unaccounted for extra cable length
• The setup easily modifiable, so preferably no drilling, stapling, gluing, screwing, nailing, sanding, taping, labeling, etc
• As little as possible plugged in while off, slow-draining
• As little as possible plugged in and on while not in use

When you think about this, you realize it may be an impossible task. Putting cables out of the way means making appliances difficult to rearrange. You have to crawl under your desk, pull it away from the wall, shift the large TV set, etc. It also obfuscates the connection between plug and appliance, as the cable is in hiding. Clearly identifying plugs means labeling them, which means you can't hot-swap extensions without ruining the system. Making labels easily switchable or modifiable means the words are likely to rub off or the tags fall off. When you wind up cables to pick up slack, suddenly it's much harder to move items around. And this compounds: you move one item, it pulls on another, but that one can't move, and this other one can't move, and this other... When you think everything's finally set up for most use cases, you realize that too much is plugged in and you're wasting electricity. When you unplug items, the plugs get lost in the shuffle, so you're even less likely to want to use those appliances, so the plugs get even more lost and their cables even more tangled...

I try to be careful with the phrase "political correctness," because used as a term of criticism, it's tossed around as an excuse for disregarding culture, diplomacy, perspective, bias, empathy, etc. Everyone who's lived or traveled much internationally knows that their own culture and subculture is just one of many. After experiencing the international revelation, you know that it would be foolish to completely disregard the cultures and customs of others, just as you would think those others would be foolish at best if they completely disregarded yours.

The revelation, if you do experience it, brings two seemingly opposite shifts. First, you are less sensitive to insult. You realize that cultures, customs, standards, manners, styles, displays of emotion, body language, personal space, dialects, and other practices differ. You assess from a broader view. You're more aware of your own cultural expectations and where they stand in relation to others, and you see that you could have grown up with any other expectation simply by being born in a different place or time, or even just in a different family. Your understanding and tolerance expand.

The second is that your sensitivity also expands. By this I mean sensitivity toward others. You understand that what does not upset you, or perhaps even anyone you know, could upset someone else, and this someone else could still be perfectly reasonable and decent.

People who grow up in abusive circumstances often suffer the opposite forces. They become less sensitive to the upsets of others (after all, they may have experienced and gotten used to worse, or may have learned to grow up in self-preservation mode, focusing less on saving others they cannot save, just trying to stay alive). And they become more sensitive to possible disregard, rejection, insults, mockery, or abuse toward themselves. The combination tends to give many new potential friends a very bad impression, even quite quickly after meeting the person. But it's quite a predictable result of childhood abuse.

The next time you see someone with this kind of double standard, keep in mind that it's probably mostly or completely invisible to them, and also probably not simple to correct even if pointed out to them directly.

What I will call "hypercorrectness" can show up in regard to others or to the self. That is, someone can become overly concerned about minor details even to the point of their "correctness" becoming totally incorrect - either when it comes to how others are treated, to how they themselves are treated, or both.

"Hypercorrectness" is usually a language phase young children go through. That's its typical meaning. For example, when I was little, I had noticed that you add "-ed" to make actions past-tense. So I argued intensely that "went" wasn't a real word, and "goed" was right because it took "go" and added "ed." This was both amusing and annoying to my mother, and she's often told the story - and I remember it clearly, in fact. But it's a classic mistake children will make. They will learn a rule, then overapply it, thinking it's more regular, universal, and infallible than it really is. That's hypercorrectness.

I've worked for many years as a tutor, most of those years in centers that are very diverse. I'm white. And European by family and country of birth. Most of the students I have taught, though, have been peoples from all around the world. And relevant to this next point, in a center where I worked for three years, more than half of the students were black. One thing I noticed occasionally was that two, three, or four students would be talking, and I would hear the word "white," and then I would hear "SHHHH!! Don't be a RACIST!!!" and then laughter and other comments. Some of them might look over at me. This was not something I minded one way or another, and it amused me, and I guess it was nice to feel like people were concerned about not offending. But it's hypercorrectness. There's nothing actually wrong with saying the word "white" or the word "black" in reference to a person. Black people typically call themselves black. No, they are not literally black of skin. But that's what people say, and they say too. And I also call myself white without mulling it over or thinking there's something wrong with that, even though I am not literally white of skin. But then someone who is different from you is in the room, and you don't want to refer to them in a way they don't like - or, necessarily, call attention to the difference. So you may well be on your best behavior and try to be extra careful not to say the wrong thing. Hence hypercorrectness of this kind.

Another time, a black student pretended he had forgotten the race of someone who was openly racist toward his family in a true story he was writing. He started to say white, then interrupted himself and said he didn't remember. He didn't want to offend me or make the wrong implication, which I immediately understood. It was an uncomfortable story, but it would not be racist of him to identify the racist as white while telling the story to a white person. But I totally empathize with his situation in that moment. I was uncomfortable about the story, and it was just a piece he was writing - making me personally uncomfortable wasn't what he was going for. But it was a good story to tell, and it had really stuck with him for a reason.

Hypercorrectness can be perceived as biased or racist. For example, in a study in which participants were asked to direct someone to one of several photos by describing it, the participants who avoided using charged words like "black" (when that would have made things easier) were seen as more biased/racist than people who used outright racial slurs. That's kind of extreme! Sometimes it's the things you don't say, right? But it goes to show that correctness and hypercorrectness are not exactly simple. And in some cases that inference will be correct. If someone considers "black" a dirty word - enough to avoid it when it would be really useful - that might mean they consider people of color to be somehow bad in general. Another circumstance, though, is that they do not want to offend or draw attention to a contentious difference or point of pain. They are simply anxious or bending over backwards to be accommodating (and perhaps not doing so quite right, but it's the thought that counts).

This topic is too complicated to brush aside with one hand and one contemptuous reference to "political correctness." There's nothing wrong with correctness. Correctness is good. And hypercorrectness is actually quite understandable. Often it means well.

Understanding usually means respecting. But sometimes even if you don't understand, respect will be important. Whether "political correctness" is the sensitive, useful, diplomatic, realistic kind or the hypercorrect kind, is it very hard to understand?

If you want to confront someone on an issue, your own self-control is paramount. It isn't just their potential defensiveness you need to think about. First and foremost, your self-control. Shoot for these goals:

Specific, Actionable, Sensible, Accurate.

SASA.

You also need to give them Space to agree or disagree. If you go in with the attitude that you'll bully them into submission, that may not go very well.

SASAS.

Maybe a better way to present the last one would be Willing to listen and give them the space to agree, disagree, clarify, take some time, etc.

SASAW.

Specific, Actionable, Sensible, Accurate, Willing.

Specific: They need to know what you're saying. Vague claims like "You don't care" are difficult to assess. Better: "You don't care about celebrating my birthday."

Actionable: A person not only must be able to do something about your complaint, they must also come to that realization. A person able to do something they don't know they can do probably won't do it. "I'd like to go to a nice restaurant on my birthday" is actionable in a way that "You don't care about celebrating my birthday" may not be.

Sensible: Not only should it be generally regarded as sensible, but it's important for your listener to see how it's sensible. Getting this across is part of confronting them. People won't respond well if you confront them with demands they don't find sensible (even if they are Specific, Actionable, etc - even if the demands ARE sensible, the person has to realize that, or it probably won't work). "I celebrate your birthdays the way you want. Why are mine always secondary? A nice meal seems like a nice, normal thing to do in general."

Accurate: You may feel that if you phrase things strongly, people will hear you better if they weren't hearing you before. Sometimes this is true. But it's a double-edged sword. You can just as easily shut people off by exaggerating or throwing in dubious or incorrect extras. "You've never, ever cared about me, even to show up at a nice restaurant to celebrate my birthday with people who are your friends" could be off-putting and unpersuasive to someone who does care and/or has celebrated your birthday at times. Often understatement works better than overstatement. Go for what no one in their right mind can deny. Don't go for the big emotional wow-factor. "You've celebrated my birthday before, but not in the past 3 years." Or, to bring back the example used under Sensible: "You don't seem to care about celebrating my birthday" is even more specific and accurate than "You don't care about celebrating my birthday." Someone might feel they care - or there might be other factors getting in the way - and that might not be getting communicated. But if it seems that way to you, that is an accurate, specific statement that it seems that way to you. It allows people to see your point even if they believe they do care very much, for example. Otherwise, they might be forced to simply disagree: "But I do care!" which will possibly lead to you feeling invalidated, brushed aside, gaslit, etc. "You don't seem to care about celebrating my birthday" is pretty easy for anyone to agree with, even if they kind of don't agree with the premise that they don't care, as long as they recognize you have feelings on the matter, and they care about how you feel. Make it easier, not harder. This example is easier because it's actually truer. You know how it seems. You don't actually know how the other person feels. Stick with what you know for sure.

Willing: I'll leave this mostly to you, as it means many things. It's a bit of a wildcard, as it's about openness and adaptability. But one tip is: Don't tell people what they mean. If someone says a thing and you don't like it, and you push back, allow them to adjust. Don't try to pin them to your interpretation. Don't make it a cross-examination. Let people tell you what they mean, and what they meant, even if that sometimes involves allowing them to change the story a little bit. You will thank me. Trust me on this. It allows people to make the little changes their own. Also, be willing to see people as real, whole people. Don't try to reduce them to categories because you happen to be upset with them. Allow them to be real and multifaceted. Be willing to let them be them. They can tell the difference.

Often people will not agree with you at first, but if you observe these principles well, you'll find that they drift toward agreeing with and accepting and respecting you, more often than not.

Alternative: Non-Confrontational Storytelling

A great technique is to tell a short, personal story about something you experienced and learned. Present it as your own unique experience, not as theirs, not as some eternal truth. Allow yourself to be fallible in that story, but open to learning. Then just move on to some other topic, or some other activity you have lined up. This gives just about the optimal chance that someone will actually change their mind about something you bring up. Rarely will a person change their mind on the spot when confronted (especially if confronted angrily). But quite regularly people change their minds over time because they know people who see them as real people and recount some of their experiences, and listen to experiences in turn. It's a lot less confrontational up-front, but it gets a lot more work done over time.

You can be frank about what you believe, but own it as your belief, and don't beat someone over the head with it, or act like they must accept your belief. Saying "I think Coldplay is a great band" is very, very different from an extended argument in which you try to prove Coldplay is a great brand in such a way that the other person feels you are giving them no option but to agree, whether they actually agree or not. People will almost always accept personal sharing along the lines of "I think Coldplay is a great band" as long as you allow them their own opinion just as freely as you share yours. This kind of simple, personal statement exposes people to other views without threatening, guilt-tripping, or otherwise trying to control the situation. It's much more effective.

Still, sometimes we all do need to confront people. You might want to use SASAW, then, or just keep it in mind as a reference point.

It's really best not to engage with people when they want to fight dirty. If you maintain your self-control and behave much better than they do, they'll often find a problem with that, too. You count to 10 before speaking, and they ramp up the yelling because "you have nothing to say" or "you're a coward." You decline to dig into the details on something they claim that's inaccurate, and "you can't argue" or "you don't have a leg to stand on," or else "you're ignoring me" or "you never hear anything I say." You point out the errors in conduct they're making as politely as you can, and you're "condescending" or "up on your high horse." You address logical unsoundness or empirical uncertainty (with or without any fancy words) and you're "egotistical" and "calling me stupid to my face." You agree with untrue things they say to appease them and you feel dirty and dishonest and weak because you were bullied into lying.

There's no winning. Get out. Leave that bullshit atmosphere.

And if you're responsible for that atmosphere: Stop. Improve. This is misery that you're foisting on others and even yourself. It makes you look terrible. Please learn better methods.

Ok, so it is possible to find ways to validate people's carried-away, somewhat abusive angry feelings without outright lying to them. But for that, it really does help if you don't mind lying to them partly, at least by extensive omission (suppressing comment on everything you know is off-base, instead finding something you can relate to so that they can feel heard). It's harder to be totally honest and remain validating toward someone you flat-out disagree with and think is throwing a tantrum, and not even on sensible grounds. It's possible to find compassion for that person and see it their way without actually biting the bullet and agreeing with a lie, some misconception they seem to be clinging to. But that takes practice, training, experience. Basically no one is born with that skill. It's extra. It's nice to have - really, this is a great, amazing, priceless skill, but it's extra. We can't assume everyone will know how to deescalate. The default, reliable solution is: Leave the scene. Just do it. Say why, leave. Don't be mean. Don't be rejecting. Don't get guilted into continuing. Don't defend yourself. Be brief. Be clear. Leave.

It seems hard at first, but it gets easier fast when you see how well it works.