Sometimes the problem isn’t your argument. Logical arguments have limits, and understanding when and why they fail helps you recognise when to change approaches entirely.
When Politics Becomes Identity
The toughest situation you’ll face is when someone’s political position has become part of who they are as a person, not just something they believe, but something they are.
How to spot this:
Watch for defensive reactions that seem disproportionate to the substance of your point. They respond with absolute statements, reject alternatives without consideration, and treat any criticism of their preferred politician or party as personal attack. The tell is that presenting better evidence or clearer logic makes them more entrenched rather than less.
How to spot this:
They get furious the moment you say anything critical about their politician, even something mild. They treat it like you’ve insulted them personally. The conversation escalates instantly from discussing politics to them being genuinely angry at you. Most telling: the angrier they get, the less your actual points seem to matter.
Why this happens:
Politics has become tribal in a way it wasn’t before. People aren’t defending a set of ideas anymore. They’re defending their side, their team, their tribe. Someone who’s immersed in online communities that love or hate a particular politician isn’t just expressing a political opinion when they defend their view, they’re defending the community they’re part of, the people they interact with daily, the shared identity they’ve built with others who feel the same way. Someone who watches certain media exclusively and sees the same political narratives reinforced constantly isn’t arguing about the merits of a politician, they’re defending their entire understanding of what’s happening in the world. Someone whose friendships and social life now revolve around shared political views isn’t just discussing politics, they’re defending relationships that matter to them.
What to do:
Change from persuading to understanding. Ask questions that invite them to explain their connection to the issue rather than defend their position:
“What is it about them that you like?
What happened that made you see things this way?”
The goal here isn’t gathering ammunition for your next point, but understanding why this particular politician or party connects to their sense of self. Sometimes being heard and understood reduces defensiveness enough that space opens for them to engage with complexity they’d have rejected as an attack moments earlier.
Look for ways they can adjust their position whilst maintaining the identity that matters to them. If someone’s sense of self involves standing up for working people and that’s why they support a particular politician, you can discuss whether that politician actually delivers for workers without asking them to care less about workers.
If someone’s identity involves being anti-establishment and that’s why they love a particular leader, you can discuss what challenging the establishment actually looks like. You’re working within their framework rather than demanding they abandon the identity that makes this politician matter to them.
Know when to accept that this particular conversation isn’t going anywhere. Preserve the relationship for discussions where identity isn’t at stake. Not every disagreement needs resolution, and pushing for resolution when someone’s identity is threatened usually just damages relationships whilst accomplishing nothing.
When You’re Speaking Different Moral Languages
Here’s a pattern that drives people mad: you make what seems to you like an obviously compelling point about why a politician is terrible or wonderful, and the other person sits there completely unmoved. Not confused. Not struggling to follow. Just... unmoved. You’re speaking different moral languages.
How to spot this:
You keep making points from one angle (this politician lies, this politician is corrupt, this politician hurts vulnerable people) and they keep responding from a completely different angle (but they’re strong, but they stand up for us, but they’re authentic). You’re talking about competence and they’re talking about authenticity. You’re citing their record and they’re discussing their character. The conversation goes in circles because you’re prioritising different moral considerations altogether.
Understanding the different moral foundations:
Different people weight different moral foundations as most important. Some evaluate politicians primarily through harm and care: does this person help vulnerable people? Do their actions reduce suffering?
Others evaluate primarily through fairness: is this person honest? Do they play by the rules? Still others prioritize loyalty (does this person stand up for our group?), or legitimate authority (does this person maintain order and respect institutions?), or protecting what they consider sacred (does this person respect our values and traditions?).
Someone focused on care and harm hears your criticism that a politician cut social programmes and finds it damning. Someone focused on loyalty hears the exact same criticism and remains unmoved, because they’re asking: does this person fight for us against them? Does this person stand up for our community? They’re not lacking compassion. They’re operating from a moral framework where group loyalty matters more than policy outcomes.
What to do instead:
Start by identifying which moral considerations drive them.
Ask directly:
“When you think about why you support them, what matters most? That they’re honest? That they fight for people like you? That they’re strong? That they respect tradition?”
You’re trying to understand their framework rather than assuming they share yours.
Then translate your argument into their moral language. If you’re criticising a politician for incompetence, but they operate primarily from loyalty concerns, that framing won’t work.
Reframe it: “I get that you feel like they stand up for you. But are they actually delivering for people in your situation? Are they fighting effectively or just making noise whilst things get worse?”
You’re making the same criticism but through loyalty rather than competence. To someone operating from fairness, frame it differently: “You care about people being honest. This person has lied repeatedly about X, Y, and Z. How do you square that with your values?”
Acknowledge that multiple moral considerations matter. The question is how to balance them: “I agree we need someone who fights for working people. I also think we need someone who can actually get things done. Can we talk about whether this person does both?”
When You Can’t Agree on Basic Facts
This is one of the most frustrating situations: you want to discuss whether a politician is good or bad, but you can’t even agree on what they’ve actually done or said.
How to spot this:
The pattern looks like this:
• You cite things the politician said or did and they dismiss it as fake news or taken out of context
• You reference their record and they either deny it happened or claim different facts entirely
• You point to scandals or failures and they point to completely different interpretations
• You’re not really arguing about the politician anymore, you’re arguing about whose version of reality to trust
The trust problem underneath:
The truth is that these factual disagreements usually aren’t really about facts at all. They’re about trust. The person who loves a politician you hate doesn’t trust the media outlets, fact-checkers, or sources you’re citing.
When you reference mainstream news reports or official records, you’re citing sources they’ve already decided are biased or compromised. The person who hates a politician you support trusts their gut feeling and what they see on social media more than they trust official statements or fact-checks.
When you cite the politician’s actual words or voting record, they hear “establishment sources covering for someone corrupt.”
What to do instead:
Name the trust issue directly rather than pretending you’re having a factual disagreement: “Sounds like you don’t trust those sources. Who would you believe?”
Sometimes just acknowledging that trust is the actual issue creates space to discuss it honestly rather than continuing to argue past each other about facts.
Look for sources they might trust more than the ones you’ve been citing. If they don’t trust mainstream media, are there alternative journalists or commentators they respect? If they don’t trust official records, is there firsthand video or audio they’d find more credible? You’re not abandoning reality-based reasoning. You’re recognising that evidence only works if people trust the sources, and finding sources that might actually reach them.
Take their experiences and impressions seriously even when those seem to conflict with documented facts:
“I hear that you feel like things have got better under this politician. The economic data shows the opposite, but that doesn’t mean your personal situation hasn’t improved. What you’re experiencing is real even if it’s not what’s happening on average.”
You’re not dismissing their lived experience as irrelevant.
Redirect to areas of agreement when possible. Maybe you disagree about whether this politician is corrupt, but you both agree that corruption in politics is a problem. Can you discuss what actual accountability would look like without first resolving whether this specific person is corrupt? Sometimes you can make progress on shared concerns whilst leaving the factual disagreement unresolved.
When Trust Is Broken
You can make the most compelling case possible about a politician, and it will accomplish absolutely nothing if the person you’re talking to doesn’t trust you.
How to spot this:
Everything you say gets interpreted through suspicion:
• You criticise their politician and they come back with “You just hate them because of who you support”
• You cite facts and they assume you’re being selective
• You acknowledge something positive and they see it as you setting up an attack
• They’re filtering everything through: what’s the real agenda here?
How trust breaks:
Trust breaks in various ways:
Maybe you were unfair about something before (you exaggerated a scandal, you dismissed their concerns, you gloated when their politician failed). They remember. Maybe you showed contempt (you called them stupid for supporting who they support, you laughed at what mattered to them, you made them feel like an idiot).
They don’t forget that. Maybe you’re associated with people or groups they hate (you support the opposing party, you read media they think is biased, you’re part of a social group they see as the enemy). Your individual trustworthiness doesn’t matter because you’re tainted by association.
What to do instead:
Address it directly: “I’m getting the sense you think I’m just attacking them because I’m biased. That’s fair to question. What would make this conversation feel less like I’m just scoring points?” Sometimes just naming it creates space to repair it.
Rebuild through consistency over time. Show you’re willing to criticise politicians you support when they deserve it. Acknowledge when politicians you oppose do something right. Be straight with them even when it doesn’t help your case. Trust rebuilds slowly through showing up consistently.
Own your mistakes immediately when you make them: “I got that wrong. I should’ve checked before I said it.” Nothing rebuilds trust faster than owning errors rather than deflecting.
Listen more than you argue. If trust is broken, making more arguments just digs the hole deeper. Actually listening (not planning your response whilst they talk, but actually hearing what they’re saying) shows respect and starts rebuilding trust.
Accept that some relationships might need repair before political discussion works. If trust is really broken, trying to have productive conversations about politicians might be hopeless until you’ve repaired the relationship through other interactions first.
When You Need Understanding More Than Agreement
Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is stop trying to convince them their politician is terrible (or wonderful) and focus on understanding why they feel the way they do.
When to use this approach:
When arguments are going nowhere. When the relationship matters more than winning. When you’re stuck and need a different approach entirely.
What to do:
Ask questions that invite explanation rather than defense:
• “What is it about them that speaks to you? What do you see in them?”
• “What would they have to do to lose your support? What would cross the line?”
• “Help me understand what you’re responding to. What are they giving you that others aren’t?”
Listen to learn what’s really driving their support or opposition. The stated reason often isn’t the actual reason. Someone saying they support a politician because of their economic policies might really be responding to feeling heard and respected for the first time in politics. Someone saying they hate a politician because of corruption might really be responding to feeling like that politician represents everything wrong with the system. Address the actual need, not the stated reason.
Look for shared values under the disagreement. Two people arguing about whether a politician is good or bad might both want honesty in politics, competence in government, and someone who fights for ordinary people. Find that shared ground and discuss what those things actually look like rather than whether this specific politician delivers them.
When Disagreements Just Persist
Some disagreements about politicians will never resolve, no matter how well you argue, how carefully you listen, or how much you understand each other.
How to spot this:
You’ve understood each other. You’ve listened carefully. You’ve explored the disagreement thoroughly. And you’re still completely opposed on whether this politician is good or terrible. That’s when you know resolution isn’t happening, at least not now.
Why this happens:
People respond to completely different things in politicians. Someone who values authenticity above almost everything will love a politician you think is dangerously incompetent. Someone who values competence and expertise will hate a politician you think is refreshingly honest. You can understand each other perfectly and still disagree because you weight characteristics differently.
People have really different experiences of the same political moment. Someone who’s felt ignored by the establishment for decades will love an anti-establishment politician that someone who values institutions sees as destructive. Someone who’s suffered under the status quo will support someone promising radical change that someone comfortable with things as they are sees as dangerous.
People have really different priorities and fears. What you fear most about politics might not even register for someone else.
You might fear authoritarian tendencies. They might fear chaos and disorder.
You might fear incompetence. They might fear phoniness and spin.
What to do instead:
Accept that you can maintain relationships with people who love politicians you hate and vice versa. You can be friends with people who support politicians you think are terrible. You can work with people whose political heroes are your villains. Stop insisting on agreement about politicians as a condition for relationship.
Aim for mutual understanding rather than shared conclusions. The achievable goal is: “I understand why they speak to you even though I think they’re awful” and “You understand why I can’t stand them even though you love them.” That’s valuable even without resolution.
Protect the relationship by knowing when to stop: “We’re never going to agree about them. Let’s talk about something else.” You’re preventing damage rather than pushing for a resolution that isn’t coming.
Find areas where you can work together despite disagreement. Maybe you disagree about whether this politician is good or bad but agree about specific problems that need solving. Maybe you disagree about political leaders but agree about what you want your local community to look like. Collaborate on what you agree about rather than only engaging on what divides you.
The Strategy
Match your approach to the situation you’re actually in:
• Identity-based positions: Work within their framework or accept this particular conversation isn’t winnable
• Different moral foundations: Translate into their moral language
• Factual disagreements: Address the trust issue underneath
• Broken trust: Rebuild before arguing
• Going nowhere: Change to understanding mode
• Persistent disagreement:Accept it and preserve the relationship
Save your best arguments for situations where they’ll actually work. When they won’t work, use these approaches instead. That’s how you stay effective rather than just feeling like you’re right whilst accomplishing nothing.
Note on talking about politicians: Most political conversations now are about whether you like or hate specific politicians rather than detailed discussions about their records. When someone says “I love X” or “I hate Y,” they’re usually not making a carefully reasoned argument, they’re expressing an emotional response to how that politician makes them feel. If you want to have a productive conversation about it, you need to understand what’s driving that emotional response rather than just presenting facts about the politician’s record. Ask what they respond to, what that politician represents to them, what need that politician is meeting. That’s where the real conversation happens, not in arguing about voting records or policy positions that most people don’t follow anyway.
