
The mountain stream is pristine. Drink directly. Water crops. No filtration needed.
Once it reaches the ocean? Useless. Too salty to drink. Too corrosive for crops. Same water, different value.
Time works exactly the same way.
Pure. Finite. Impossibly valuable when used well.
Worthless when wasted.
And yet we pour it into arguments daily.
A few years ago, I visited someone with my friend. Nice guy. Old-school mindset.
"Online/remote work isn't a real career," he said. "People need stable desk jobs to survive." This was before Covid and remote work becoming mainstream.
I've been working remotely for years. This was personal.
So I leapt to defend my choices, explaining why I'd never work the usual desk job for 40 years and outlining my future plans with passionate detail.
He'd been at the same company for 18 years.
We weren't discussing. We were battling. North versus South. His map against mine.
Mid-sentence, I paused.
Wait. Where is this going? Who wins if I "win"? Is he suddenly going to abandon almost two decades of belief because of my brilliant points?
Of course not.
What if I had simply said, "Yes, stability matters a lot"?
Would that corrupt my beliefs? Compromise my integrity?
No. It would simply acknowledge his perspective while preserving my most valuable resource.
My time. My mental energy. My peace.
I've discovered two types of exchanges:
Discussions happen when both sides work toward the same destination. Open minds. Shared curiosity. Willingness to change.
Arguments happen when both sides defend territory. Fixed positions. Closed minds. Predetermined conclusions.
One builds. One burns.
One creates. One consumes.
One fills. One drains.
I used to love arguing. Imposing ideas. Correcting "wrong" thinking.
It mostly created frustration. For everyone involved.
The moment I started simply putting my point across once, then going silent when I felt the discussion morphing into argument—everything changed.
Less frustration. More learning. Better relationships.
The ego resists at first. It wants the last word. The winning point. The conclusive evidence.
But there's a deeper satisfaction in walking away from battles you can't win with people who aren't changing their minds.
Here's what winners know: The argument tax is too expensive.
Every minute spent trying to convince the unconvincible is a minute you'll never get back.
Like saltwater damaging pipes, arguments corrode relationships, drain energy, and waste the purest resource we have.
Sometimes the wisest response is simply: "You might be right."
Then move on.
Your time is mountain water.
Use it before it hits the ocean.
The question isn't whether you'll face disagreement today.
The question is: Will you pay the argument tax?
Your next choice changes everything.
~ aq