This post originally appeared in my weekly newsletter, BL&T (Borrowed, Learned, & Thought). Subscribe
I spent the weekend in Arizona with my long-time friend Kyle. He lives in LA, so we met up to attend a music festival hosted by a band we’ve been following since college, The Maine. We also squeezed in some great hikes.
Kyle and I go way back—we’ve been friends since 4th grade and have spent countless hours together over the years. What I once took for granted now feels special—it was great to spend a few days together.
Over the weekend, I finished reading The 15 Commitments of Conscious Leadership by Diana Chapman, Jim Dethmer, and Kaley Klemp. One concept from the book that’s had me reflecting on communication—whether with the team at work or with friends and family—is the distinction between arguable and unarguable statements.
The book explains:
“Great leaders and teams become experts at revealing their unarguable experience (‘I’m having a thought…’) without forming any attachment to being right about it. They share it and are curious about it, but they don’t need to defend it from an ego standpoint. When this candor is met with curiosity and deep listening—‘Tell me more about that thought. I’m curious to know what you think’—amazing breakthroughs of insight and innovation often occur.”
It’s the difference between saying:
“We need to get this proposal done by the end of the day.”
(Arguable—it’s not due until mid-next week!)
vs.
“I’m thinking it’d be helpful to wrap up this proposal by the end of the day to give us some buffer for team feedback.”
(Unarguable—this is how I feel about the situation.)
There’s often so much running through my head—especially in moments of urgency or high stakes—that I tend to jump straight to what I think is true or needs to happen.
Whether I’m helping the team prioritize a project or sharing my perspective at home, it’s a good reminder to share the context behind my thoughts instead of rushing to conclusions.
What’s a little scary is that arguable statements may not always create an argument—depending on the audience. For instance, Dana might challenge me, but team members—or even Mylo as he grows up—might listen, even if they disagree. Over time, this dynamic can lead to resentment, a loss of trust, or a breakdown in collaboration.
Reframing my words as unarguable creates space for better understanding and meaningful dialogue. It’s a practice I’m embracing, and in small ways, I’ve already seen how these shifts in language can change the conversation.
Where am I more focused on being right than inviting curiosity and understanding into the conversation?