Before joining the debate team, I believed that winning an argument was a matter of volume, quick reflexes and sheer conviction. Arguing was not about getting closer to the truth. It was about winning—and it was about the ego.

Yet, not even two weeks of debating at the Harvard Debate Camp dismantled that worldview completely.

One of the key turning points came just days after I began debating. My partner and I drew the affirmative side on a resolution that went something like this: “This house believes that social media should be banned for children.” I was familiar with this topic since I had spent years arguing against it in lengthy conversations with my parents. An immediate wave of discomfort washed over me. How was I supposed to convince a panel of judges that banning social media for kids my age was the best course of action, when every personal instinct told me the opposite was true?

You do not get to pick sides in debate based on what you believe. The coin flips; pairings are released and you have 20 minutes to build the strongest possible case—whether you like your side or not.

That constraint forced a profound shift in how I approach debating. When you look for evidence to reinforce what you already know and believe in, you cherry-pick the quotes, articles and facts that you want to hear and discard anything inconvenient. But when you are constrained to build a case against confirmation bias, research becomes an exercise in how to open your mind. You must ask yourself: Why would rational, informed and decent people try to advocate for this view? What foundational values are they trying to protect? What perspective are they coming from where they find it reasonable to support something you so strongly repudiate?

I remember sitting on the floor with my teammate, half a bag of pretzels next to me, racking my brain about the motion.

Then, I remembered the studies I’d skimmed over about worsening concentration from scrolling, losing sleep to phones and mental health articles relating to social media.

I was not just thinking about winning anymore. I actually wanted to know if my mom had a point, which felt weird to admit.

Yet, maybe the most valuable lesson from debate was how I started to listen differently. Before, when someone debated me, I was listening but not really comprehending—I was reloading. While they talked, I was already preparing my next line, waiting for the moment they slipped, so I could pounce.

That loses rounds and loses real arguments too. You cannot just argue against the weak link of the case, but you must understand the entirety of the argument: what your opponents are claiming, what values they hold and what they actually mean.

That is where the debate concept of the “steelman” comes in. Steelmanning demands that you articulate the argument of the opponent in its strongest, most sophisticated form, before attempting to take it down. It is not just about taking down every line of their case, but giving credit where it is due, and still being able to prove why your case stands superior.

We live in a culture that increasingly treats agreement and compromise as weakness. Disagreement has become more prominent, sorting us into hostile camps where the goal is no longer about reaching a common place, but to prove a complete victory over one another’s ideas.

If we want to build a community capable of solving hard and controversial problems, we have to relearn how to disagree in the first place. That starts with a willingness to truly listen and the courage to inhabit the perspective of someone else—even if it’s only for one debate tournament.