In the film Moneyball, Billy Beane, general manager of the Oakland A’s, is faced with the revelation that he, along with everyone else in professional baseball, has been building teams in an antiquated fashion.

He was buying, selling, and trading players when he should have been buying, selling, and trading the wins those players produce.

A similar myopia affects political discourse in this country: we are trying to win debates when we should be trying to win legislation.

We’ve all been in the position of arguing with a friend over a contentious political issue. Your thought process was probably straightforward enough: Make the most forceful, incontrovertible arguments early and often. In the face of the evidence, your opponent will have no choice but to concede.

Now think back for a second. How many of these kinds of arguments have ever actually ended with one side giving up completely?

Thanks to psychological forces like cognitive dissonance and outright stubbornness, the answer is likely never. We argue because winning debates makes us feel good, not because we actually expect to change the minds of others.

And when it comes to idle chit-chat among friends, there’s really no harm in that.

The problem starts when this kind of posturing is employed in actual government. There are devastatingly real consequences when our elected officials’ only goal is to win a debate, a news cycle, or an election.

The proceedings play out the same way as an argument between friends: Republicans and Democrats at the highest levels lay out their most compelling arguments, are flabbergasted when the other side refuses to budge, decline to negotiate towards a mutual agreement, and retrench in their own opinions. 鈥淕overning鈥 done, they each declare themselves the winner, and pat themselves on the back.

We are witnessing the results of this dysfunctional attitude toward political discourse in the recently resolved shutdown of our national government.

There are legitimate reasons to blame one side or the other over this most recent clash, however both Democrats and Republicans are equally guilty of taking no steps to prevent the next inevitable, embarrassing showdown.

In the months since the last botched debt ceiling negotiation, either party could have laid out proactive plans to avoid governing crisis to crisis. Neither did.

So how can our representatives place less importance on winning policy debates while still achieving legitimate policy wins? One answer is somewhat counter-intuitive: they can weaken their own arguments.

Research in human cognition has found that a 鈥渂ackfire effect鈥 takes place when making strong arguments in ideologically charged debates. It happens when we are presented with evidence that contradicts our position. Rather than accept it as a loss, we actually respond by intensifying our original belief.

This happens because an attack on our ideology is interpreted as an attack on our ego. The mind’s natural reaction is to protect itself from a loss of self-worth by disregarding the validity of the evidence.

The idea that ego plays such a large part in political debate is hard to swallow because we want to think of government as a place of high-minded Socratic dialogue where reason wins out.

Unfortunately, in the real world human beings, not emotionless philosophers, inhabit the bodies of our politicians. Human beings decide where to pave roads, how to raise taxes, and what bills to vote for. Stroking the egos of their opponents may feel like defeat, but passing worthwhile laws ought to be the only victory our elected officials need.

By making a weaker argument that affirms their opponent’s right to hold different beliefs, politicians can help circumvent fomenting more extreme beliefs down the road.

For representatives who at least keep this tactic in mind, there is a much better chance of getting to an agreement without resorting to last-minute brinksmanship or threats of a government shutdown.

Meanwhile, we as voters can demand more from our politicians. Instead of voting based on principled stands and pithy rhetoric, we need to hold our legislators responsible for their actual legislative record.

For instance, let’s say I’m opposed to a new tax up for a vote. I don’t want my representative to promise to fight against it, make an impassioned speech, and simply lose the vote.

I want to know that my representative 鈥 being a realist and pragmatist 鈥 negotiated with the other side, and won the very lowest level of taxation that could be expected given the circumstances.

Whether Republican or Democrat, we should elect savvy, flexible negotiators first, and ideologues second. Negotiation is not the sexiest of political strategies, but competence rarely is.

The end result in Moneyball is that the Oakland A’s still have not 鈥渨on it all鈥 in the Billy Beane era. However the visionary framework of how one wins has continued to spread to teams throughout the Major Leagues.

Similarly, changing our mindset about what it means to win a political argument may not head off the next crisis, but it will pay off if we have the patience to lose an argument now and then, whether it’s between friends across the dinner table, or enemies across the aisle.

Community Voices aims to encourage broad discussion on many topics of community interest. It’s kind of a cross between Letters to the Editor and op-eds. This is your space to talk about important issues or interesting people who are making a difference in our world. Columns generally run about 800 words (yes, they can be shorter or longer) and we need a photo of the author and a bio. We welcome video commentary and other multimedia formats. Send to news@civilbeat.com.

About the author: Mychal Okuhara is director of the Hawaii Centrist Project.

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