Level 1 · Module 4: Disagreeing Without Fighting · Lesson 5

When Two People Are Both Partly Right

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Most disagreements aren’t between a right person and a wrong person. They’re between two people who each see part of the truth. Learning to find the part that’s right in someone else’s argument makes you smarter and your solutions better.

When you’re in a disagreement, it feels simple: I’m right, and they’re wrong. That feeling is strong and clear, and it makes you want to fight harder for your side. But here’s a secret about most real-world disagreements: both people are usually right about something.

This is hard to accept when you’re in the middle of an argument. Your brain wants the world to be divided into right and wrong, winner and loser. But real life is messier than that. Two people can look at the same situation and see different true things, because they’re looking from different angles.

Think about a mountain. If you’re standing on the north side, you see trees and a river. If you’re standing on the south side, you see rocks and a meadow. If someone says “This mountain has a river” and someone else says “No, this mountain has a meadow,” they’re both right. They’re just standing in different places.

The smartest move in any disagreement is to stop and ask: “What part of what they’re saying is true?” Not whether all of it is true. Just what part. If you can find that piece, you’re on your way to a better answer than either person had alone.

The Garden Argument

Wren and her dad planted a garden together every spring. This year, they couldn’t agree on what to plant. Wren wanted flowers — sunflowers and zinnias and marigolds — because she loved how they looked and how they brought butterflies to the yard. Her dad wanted vegetables — tomatoes and peppers and green beans — because they could eat what they grew and save money on groceries.

“Flowers are a waste of space,” her dad said, though not meanly. “We only have a small plot. We should grow something useful.” “Flowers are useful!” Wren said. “They make the yard beautiful and they help the bees. Without bees, the vegetables wouldn’t even grow!”

They went back and forth for a while until Wren’s grandmother, who was visiting, pulled a chair to the edge of the garden and said, “Let me ask you both something. Wren, is there anything right about your dad’s idea?” Wren thought about it. “Yeah. It would be cool to grow our own food. And we do spend a lot on tomatoes.”

“And you,” Grandmother said, turning to Wren’s dad. “Is there anything right about Wren’s idea?” He paused. “She’s right about the bees, actually. And the marigolds — I read somewhere that they keep pests away from tomato plants.”

Grandmother smiled. “So you both have a piece of the right answer. What would the garden look like if you put them together?” Twenty minutes later, they had a plan: tomatoes and peppers in the center, with a border of marigolds to keep pests away and sunflowers along the back fence for the bees. It was a better garden than either of them had imagined alone — and it only happened because they both admitted the other person was partly right.

Partly right
Having a piece of the truth but not the whole thing — which is where most people are in most disagreements.
Perspective
Where you’re standing when you look at a situation — your angle, your experience, your background. Different perspectives show different truths.
Synthesis
Combining two or more ideas into something better than any single one — like mixing ingredients to make a recipe.
Concede
To admit that someone else has a valid point, even while you still hold your own position.
Both/and
A way of thinking that says “both of these can be true” instead of “only one of us can be right.”

Wren’s grandmother asked the simplest and most powerful question in any disagreement: “Is there anything right about the other person’s idea?” Why is that question so hard to answer when you’re in the middle of an argument?

It’s hard because admitting the other person has a point feels like losing. If I say you’re partly right, doesn’t that mean I’m partly wrong? And doesn’t that mean I’m losing? No. It means you’re being honest. It means you’re smart enough to see the truth even when it’s not on your side. That’s not weakness — it’s one of the hardest forms of strength.

Think about the garden. Wren’s dad was right that vegetables are practical. Wren was right that flowers help the ecosystem. If either of them had “won” the argument completely, the garden would have been worse. What would the garden have been missing if only Wren got her way? What about if only her dad got his way?

The garden they built together was better than either plan alone. That’s what happens when you combine partial truths: you get something closer to the whole truth. This is called synthesis — taking the good parts from different ideas and building something new.

Here’s the practical skill: the next time you’re in a disagreement, try asking yourself the grandmother’s question. “Is there anything right about what they’re saying?” You don’t have to give up your own point. You just have to be honest about theirs.

This is really, really hard to do when you’re angry. When you’re upset, your brain sees everything in black and white: I’m right, they’re wrong, end of story. It takes practice to step back from that feeling and look at the situation more honestly. But every time you do it, you get better at it.

One more thing: when you tell someone “You have a point about ___,” something amazing happens. They relax. Their defenses go down. They stop fighting. And then they’re often willing to say, “You have a point too.” Acknowledging someone else’s truth doesn’t weaken your position. It invites them to acknowledge yours.

Watch for disagreements where both people are digging in and neither will budge. Then ask yourself: what is each person right about? You’ll almost always find that both have a valid piece. Also notice how rare it is for someone to say “You have a point.” When it does happen, watch how the other person’s posture and tone change. Conceding a point is one of the most disarming moves in any conversation.

In your next disagreement, try saying: “You’re right about ___. And I also think ___.” That structure — acknowledging their truth before stating yours — changes the whole dynamic. It turns a tug-of-war into a collaboration. You’re no longer pulling in opposite directions; you’re building something together.

Humility

Accepting that someone else can be partly right — even when you’re also partly right — takes genuine humility, and it’s the beginning of wisdom.

Not every disagreement is a case where both people are partly right. Sometimes one person really is wrong, and pretending both sides have equal merit is its own kind of dishonesty. If someone says the earth is flat, you don’t need to find the “partly right” part of their argument. This lesson is about real disagreements between reasonable perspectives, not about treating every opinion as equally valid. Also, “both sides have a point” can be used as a cop-out to avoid taking a clear stand when one is needed. Sometimes you need to say, “No, this one really is wrong.”

  1. 1.What was Wren right about? What was her dad right about?
  2. 2.How did the garden end up better because they combined their ideas?
  3. 3.What question did the grandmother ask that changed the whole conversation?
  4. 4.Why does it feel like losing when you admit someone else has a point?
  5. 5.Can you think of a disagreement you’ve had where the other person was partly right?
  6. 6.Is it always true that both sides are partly right? When might one side just be wrong?
  7. 7.What does “synthesis” mean, and can you think of an example from your own life?

The Both-Sides Garden

  1. 1.Think of a disagreement you’ve had recently, or make one up. Write it down in two sentences: “I thought ___ because ___. They thought ___ because ___.”
  2. 2.Now answer the grandmother’s question for both sides:
  3. 3.“The part of their idea that’s right is ___.”
  4. 4.“The part of my idea that’s right is ___.”
  5. 5.Finally, try to build a “garden” — a solution that uses the right parts of both ideas. Write it down: “A solution that uses both truths would be ___.”
  6. 6.Share your “garden” with a parent and discuss whether it’s better than either original idea.
  1. 1.What did Wren want to plant, and why? What did her dad want to plant, and why?
  2. 2.What was the grandmother’s question that changed the conversation?
  3. 3.What does “synthesis” mean?
  4. 4.Why is it hard to admit someone else is partly right when you’re in an argument?
  5. 5.What happened to the garden plan when Wren and her dad combined their ideas?
  6. 6.Is it always true that both people in a disagreement are partly right? When might that not be the case?

This is one of the most counterintuitive lessons for children (and for many adults): the idea that you can acknowledge someone else’s correctness without abandoning your own. Children at this age tend toward binary thinking — right/wrong, good/bad, winner/loser. This lesson gently introduces the concept that truth can be distributed across multiple perspectives. The grandmother character models a facilitative approach you can use at home: when your children disagree, instead of ruling for one side, ask each child what’s right about the other’s point. This develops the capacity for synthesis, which is one of the highest-order thinking skills. It’s also worth noting the misuse warning honestly: not all perspectives are equally valid, and this lesson shouldn’t teach children to treat every opinion as if it has equal merit.

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