I am not someone who writes on a Monday — especially not between deadlines, unread emails, and work catch-ups. Mondays are for practicality, not philosophy.
But this one thought has been sitting with me, refusing to leave.
The other day, I witnessed an argument between some distant family members. It started with one sentence- harmless in isolation, dangerous in company. Something was said, something that triggered everyone differently, and suddenly the room filled with reactions. Loud ones. Certain ones. Absolute ones. No one paused to ask whether something was wrong. Because apparently, nothing was.
Did it sound funny at the moment? Yes.
Did it make me wonder what we reduced ourselves to as humans? Hell, yes!
And ever since then, one question has been circling my mind like an unfinished sentence:
When did arguments and opinions, especially unkind ones, start feeling more important than meaningful conversations?
Arguments: Now Available 24/7
I could open up an argument shop and give it the above title!
Open all day. No appointments required. Walk-ins welcome.
Family disputes. Online outrage. Moral superiority is included free of cost.
But jokes apart, there was a time when disagreements required effort. You had to be knowledgeable to argue with someone. I remember my arguments with my dad and grandfather- you need to be a well-read person to actually stand up against them, with your opinion. Having an “enthusiasm to argue” and a “tantrum” would not just cut. You needed facts, context, and the humility to accept silence when your argument collapsed halfway through.
Arguments weren’t constant noise. They came with pauses, long, uncomfortable ones. Pauses where words were searched carefully. Where respect wasn’t optional. Where articulation mattered as much as conviction.
Physical presence played a role, too, not for intimidation, but for accountability. You couldn’t storm off into anonymity. You had to sit there, breathing the same air, facing the same person, feeling the weight of what you said.
I am not really sure if any of us are sitting with that weight anymore. Because arguments are just a WhatsApp chat away, where you can block a person. Or a call away- where you can always cut the call and leave. That weight has disappeared.
The Arguments Have Outgrown Humans!
Arguments are a text/phone call away.
You don’t need knowledge to argue. A sense of superiority works well.
Thoughts? Not required. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been arguing in the first place.
The only ask is- availability.
Someone says something. Someone else reacts. Others join in, not to understand, but to participate. The goal is no longer resolution. It’s a continuation. Arguments must stay alive. They must be fed. Even when they no longer make sense.
In families, disagreements have become rituals. Familiar. Predictable. Almost comforting. Everyone knows their role. Everyone knows which sentence will trigger which response. And yet, we repeat the same script, as if compelled by something larger than choice.
Online, it’s worse. Arguments are stripped of consequence. Bodies, lives, emotions, reduced to text boxes and profile pictures. Cruelty travels faster when it doesn’t have to look back at the person it hits.
And somehow, we make time for all of this.
What We Postpone Without Noticing?
We postpone meals.
We postpone sleep.
We postpone conversations that require vulnerability.
But we never postpone arguments.
We cancel calls with people we care about because we’re “busy,” yet we have endless energy to correct strangers, shame bodies, and defend opinions we didn’t even hold this strongly yesterday.
The sentence “Not right now, I have people to argue with” sounds absurd only until you realise how accurately it describes our priorities.
We are available to fight.
Unavailable to connect.
I Just Have A Rendering Thought!
I don’t entirely blame families.
I don’t entirely blame social media.
Maybe the uncomfortable truth is simpler, and harsher. Maybe we argue so much because silence asks questions we don’t want to answer. Because meaningful conversations require us to be seen. Because listening demands patience we no longer practice. Arguments are easier. They are louder. They keep us occupied. They give us the illusion of importance without demanding introspection.
We participate in this system daily- responding, reacting, escalating- without ever questioning when or why it became normal.
So if you want to participate in another argument over the weekend or post working hours, go ahead by all means. But if you are willing to pause here for a second, then I have an important question for you- What would happen if you don’t engage in this today?
And if the answer is that you would be going shopping, cooking a nice meal, or simply breathing better, then maybe it is time to not get involved and stay out of the battleground.