Arthur Schopenhauer, the late German philosopher, was indubitably right when he concluded that the world is not a rational place. Perhaps his take on the matter was because of the time he spent arguing with his mother and doting on pet poodles.
I know it to be a true truth because I have spent the entire school holidays with people not long out of single digits.
Irrationality can be a wonderful arc, ending in complicated Lego games and tangential conversation, a bit like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But our household (or beach, or car) all too often ends up at the other end of the rainbow. The end where irrationality means conflict and conflict means irrationality and mostly that duality leads to tears. Often mine.
Of course, conflict has its benefits. It does. They are, umm ... bear with me. They are ... oh yes, you get to develop as a person, away from the other person. You get to test your linguistic mettle. Or your hardest punch.
And you get things that the other person doesn't have any more. Because you are the winner and doesn't that feel great?
Being good at conflict might make you a prime candidate for the debating team, or for politics. Or war. And tears don't tend to fix things. I know that.
So, in between bawling and blaming myself for terrible parenting, I've taken the time to collate a list of the variably effective conflict-winning strategies I've observed over the last few weeks.
(Has it really only been that long?)
1. Whoever shouts loudest wins the argument.
2. Especially if they are shouting short phrases or single words on repeat. See. See? I told you. I told you. See. It's mine. Mine. MIIIIIIIIIINE.
3. If your core argument is weak, you can always attack the personality, looks or behaviour of your opponent with some irrational and irrefutable opinion such as You are literally so dumb. Literally.
4. Keep shouting. The other person might get tired before you do.
5. Make irrational threats. If you try and take it I'll stamp on it and then nobody can play with it. So there. And I will never speak to you again. Ever. I'm going to leave home and then you'll be sorry.
6. Bring other people into the argument. If they won't actually argue on your side, you can always just include them anyway. Everyone hates you. Everyone. They do.
7. If you sense that you are about to lose the argument, look around for the door that is likely to make the most noise and reverberation when slammed. Lean in close to the face of the person you are arguing with, shout something, anything, really loud, and then go ahead and exit the argument via that door, slamming it. Feeling like a winner. Demonstrating that the fight and flight instincts can exist together. So there.
Oh. My. Gosh.
Hopeless hippy that I am (an accusation levelled at me more than once in elevated tones during the aforementioned and long-arcing holidays), I want my people to use their different notes to sing in harmony, not discord.
Although where would we be without artists pushing tonal boundaries? And I do like a good bit of creative tension. If only we could have channelled it all that way these holidays.
Artistics and histrionics aside, I'm pretty sure that the cult of individual expression and benefit is not the bringer of peace. On a home or a world level. How about a middle ground?
Schopenhauer, again: "Opinion is like a pendulum and obeys the same law. If it goes past the centre of gravity on one side, it must go a like distance on the other; and it is only after a certain time that it finds the true point at which it can remain at rest.''
Well, that might be so if you live only with poodles, have time to think and a mother nearby to react against.
In our house it's much more like Newton's cradle when you've swung the first metal ball back really hard and then knocked all the others on and let them get really, really tangled.
Still, I live in hope. And I very much like Schopenhauer's last idea. Remaining at rest.
