Why Do I Argue?
- Amitanshu Shrivastava
- May 19
- 5 min read
I’ve taken the time to reflect—and today’s post is about just that: why do I argue?
I’ve always been fascinated by arguments. I don’t particularly enjoy being in them, but I love observing them. I find arguing to be one of the most interesting things humans do.
It’s not a particularly profound idea, but it’s something I’ve come to understand by talking with people around me and reflecting on those conversations. So, if you find your own ideas echoed here, it’s probably because they are yours—I’m just a medium through which this thought flows into this blog.
I’m genuinely fascinated by this topic, and I felt compelled to write about it—not only to share my thoughts with the world but, more importantly, with my students. As an educator, I believe argument is one of the most underrated methods of teaching and learning. Unfortunately, our school systems rarely encourage or support constructive argument. So, I want to shine a more positive light on this word—argument—and encourage people to engage in more fruitful and interesting ones.
As I’ve said, the word "argument" carries a negative connotation in our society. We often discourage arguments because they can spiral into conflict. This usually happens because of people’s limited vocabulary, which leads to misunderstandings and confrontations.

Quote from 21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harari
Why do I argue?
There are many reasons, and all of them are valid. But here, I want to highlight one reason that has been bothering me for a while—something I’ve noticed more frequently these days.
I argue to unpack oversimplified thoughts. To build on a thought, or to find the beauty in its complexity—how thoughts are interconnected.
There is a new kind of pandemic spreading rapidly—through our social media platforms. As people read fewer books and consume less knowledge through slower mediums like reading and writing—and instead rely heavily on visual and auditory mediums—they often fall into the trap of oversimplification.
There’s nothing wrong with using simpler language to explain complex ideas. But I’ve found that rather than aiding understanding, oversimplification often leads to misunderstanding. We fall into the trap of what I call “simplified ignorance.”
Social media is shortening our attention spans. We’re overwhelmed with visual information and bombarded with instant content. On top of that, quick-commerce apps have made us more impatient. We crave everything faster, with minimal effort. While efficiency isn’t inherently bad, I believe it’s cultivating a society that is impatient and restless.
No idea—however profound—can be understood if people aren’t willing to invest time and effort. When people fail to understand, conflicts arise. Harmony disappears. And without harmony, there’s no satisfaction. Without satisfaction, we stop seeing the beauty in what already surrounds us.
I think that’s what leading causes of depression.
If we can’t see beauty in day-to-day life, or find joy in the ordinary, how can we build a better society?
There is no such thing as simple knowledge or simple information. What’s often simple is our ignorance and laziness, which prevent us from appreciating complexity. Understanding complexity requires time, energy, and the analytical part of the brain.
Unfortunately, our brains often bypass complexity in favor of shortcuts—this too is governed by the law of conservation of energy. It’s easier for the brain to jump to familiar conclusions or rely on abstract beliefs rather than engage deeply with difficult ideas. This is where misunderstanding and ignorance often begin.
Again, this is my perspective. Everyone has their own experience—but I find this to be a widespread pattern.
I have nothing against the concept of a higher power. But when we use it as a mental shortcut to avoid thinking critically, we do a disservice to the path of knowledge.
Socrates famously used dialogue and argument to arrive at knowledge. His method was controversial in his time—so much so that it led to his trial and execution. He was often seen as paranoid or excessively skeptical. But I believe a certain degree of skepticism is essential—especially today, in a world clouded by information overload and factual ambiguity.
In today’s world, we are witnessing rising conflict—between countries, within societies, among individuals, and even within ourselves. Yet we rarely have real dialogues about these conflicts. Instead, many find it easier to go to a therapist than to confront the root of the problem.
Often, conflict arises from the false duality of right vs. wrong, good vs. bad. We forget that the purpose of argument is not to win, but to untangle and share thoughts. When we reduce argument to a win-lose scenario, we derail its true purpose. We must be mindful of this.
Throughout history, there have been individuals who have elevated the thinking of society. In modern India, I find Rabindranath Tagore and Swami Vivekananda especially inspiring. Their language is beautiful, their ideas complex, yet their words remain accessible.
I admire them because they wrote in their mother tongue—Bengali—which gave them clarity of expression. Even when they wrote in English, they avoided the complex, decorative style common in their time. Profound ideas need not be dressed in complicated language. In fact, when an idea is truly deep, the language becomes simpler.
Ironically, I’ve seen many people use complex words to communicate very simple ideas. And with the rise of AI tools like ChatGPT, the content we read is becoming even more synthetically complex, often sacrificing authenticity and clarity.
So, why argue?
Because confronting your thoughts—and those of others—is essential. Whether it’s on a personal, societal, or even national level, resolving conflict begins with better communication. And communication begins with language—vocabulary, articulation, and the willingness to listen and share.
People read less these days. But if more people read, they would have better words to express themselves. When you lack the words to express your emotions, intensity can turn into aggression. You reach for foul language because you don’t have alternatives. And once that happens, arguments turn into fights.
So, I believe that a better vocabulary, deeper understanding, and clearer articulation can help make life happier. Because sharing helps us grow.
If you can share your ideas with yourself—using language you understand—you can share them with those around you. And when you can do that, you contribute to a better society. That, in turn, builds a better nation, and eventually a better world.
Let me end with a final thought:
According to Islamic tradition, when the angel Gabriel appeared to Prophet Muhammad, he repeated a single word three times: “Quran. Quran. Quran.”
The word Quran is not just a noun—it’s a verb, meaning “to read” or “to recite.” So, the last message from God to humanity was simply:
Read. Read. Read.


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