One of the most exhausting things in life is trying to correct everyone.

You know the feeling — you’re at a family dinner, someone makes a sweeping statement about politics, health, or how “back in my day…” and every part of you wants to jump in. To argue. To prove them wrong.

I’ve done it plenty of times. And sure, landing the “gotcha” moment feels good for about three seconds. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: just because they’re wrong doesn’t mean I’m automatically right.

The Stoics were all over this. Epictetus said, “If someone does wrong, the harm is to themselves. Why should I be troubled?” Translation: if someone is wrong, it doesn’t actually damage you — unless you let it. Arguing, shouting, burning energy to convince them otherwise? That’s on you. Marcus Aurelius wrote that it’s better to stay silent than to waste your breath fighting someone who isn’t listening. Sometimes wisdom is letting people be wrong.

Because every argument has a cost. The cost is your energy, your peace, your time. You can win the debate and still lose — lose the relationship, lose your calm, lose the whole point of being there in the first place. And the truth? Most people don’t change their mind because you’ve “proven” them wrong. They change their mind when they’re ready. When life teaches them. Not when you beat them over the head with facts.

Marcus Aurelius also wrote, “Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth.”

Think about that. Your “truth” is shaped by your upbringing, your experiences, your biases. Theirs is too. Most of the time, you’re not arguing facts — you’re arguing perspectives.

Two people can look at the same movie and walk out with completely different conclusions. One person is inspired, the other thinks it was a waste of time. Who’s wrong? Neither. They just experienced it differently.

That’s the trap of ego: thinking your perspective is the perspective. That being right is the goal, when really, it’s just one version of the story.

And here’s the kicker — even if you are right, arguing rarely changes minds. People don’t switch their beliefs because you crushed them with evidence. They switch when they’re ready, when life shows them in its own way.

So what’s the alternative? Humility. Saying, “This is how I see it… but I could be wrong.” That little phrase is powerful. It shifts the whole conversation. It keeps the peace. It saves your energy for the things that actually matter.

These days, I try to let more things go. Let my kids believe something silly every now and then. Let a mate rant about something I don’t agree with without needing to “fix” him. Let a stranger on the internet be loud and wrong while I quietly go about my day.

Not because I don’t care. But because my sanity is more valuable than being right.

Being right feels good for a moment. Being calm feels good forever. Sometimes the wisest move is the simplest: let them be wrong.

Until next time,

Broden Johnson