(Corrected) Dialectical Judo: How to reverse [a small fraction of] the narcissism on the internet

Edited on 4/1: About a month ago, I wrote this piece with complete certainty. I mean I was sure I had cracked the code. Turns out, I was more off than a toupee in the wind. But hey, what’s the fun in being right all the time?

I learned that attachment to an idea is really blinding 😉 and no one is immune to cognitive dissonance.

So, the next time I try to convince you that I’m an expert on something that hasn’t gone through the ringer, feel free to remember this post and tell me to ‘take a seat.’

The disinformation is corrected below.

Most people, when confronted with hostility, meet it on equal footing—firing back, defending themselves, or launching a counterattack. But what if I told you that’s exactly what keeps the cycle going? What if, instead of resisting someone's ego-driven hostility, you could use its own force against itself—not to destroy it, but to disarm it, confuse it, and replace it with something it’s never encountered before?

I call this Dialectical Judo—a technique of triggering someone's ego just enough to provoke a reaction, then flipping the dynamic by replacing their defensiveness with curiosity and wonder ← this only works on people capable of self-awareness. It’s not just a debate strategy—it’s a way of breaking through deeply ingrained mental defenses that keep people trapped in rigid thinking, self-importance, or even narcissism ← very, very rarely.

The Mechanics of Dialectical Judo

At its core, Dialectical Judo follows four steps:

1. Poke the bear.

First, you must activate their defenses—give their delicate little ego a good prod. You do this by saying something that directly challenges their identity, contradicts their sacredly held beliefs, or ever-so-gently (or not-so-gently) exposes a gaping flaw in their reasoning. But—and this is important—you must do it in a way that compels them to engage, rather than sending them into a sulk or a furious spiral of keyboard smashing.

See, people don’t engage deeply unless they feel something is at stake—their pride, their intelligence, their unshakable conviction that they are, in fact, right about absolutely everything. So, what happens? Their ego locks in, primed for battle, certain that victory is imminent.

At this point, they believe they are about to deliver a devastating intellectual blow—to smite you where you stand with a towering monologue of absolute certainty and righteous indignation.

Which is precisely where you want them. Because they have no idea what’s coming next.

You actually don’t have to do this step. Highly emotional people come fully charged like a Duracell battery waiting to explode in the middle of a calm conversation.

2. Give them the mic.

Now that their ego is fully activated—like a bull charging at a red flag, or a politician who’s just been asked a simple yes-or-no question—they will come at you with everything they’ve got. Hostility. Sarcasm. Condescension. Possibly some light frothing at the mouth.

Let them.

The bigger their response, the more emotionally invested they become. You see, they now have to win. They’ve put their ego, their intelligence, and possibly their entire sense of self-worth on the line, and they’re going to flail about wildly to ensure victory.

At this stage, they will unleash their strongest arguments—the absolute best ammunition they have, expecting you to fire back in kind.

But you don’t.

Instead, you just stand there, calm, unbothered, annoyingly serene, like some sort of infuriating Zen monk.

And that’s when the magic happens.

3. And now, the flip.

They’ve come at you swinging, fully expecting a glorious intellectual duel, a grand battle of wits where they shall crush you beneath the sheer weight of their irrefutable logic and/or barely concealed rage.

But instead of fighting back, you…don’t.

You remain calm, composed, perhaps even vaguely amused, as if you’ve just been served a particularly underwhelming cup of tea. No emotional reaction. No defensiveness. No desperate need to "win." Instead, you do something unforgivable—you introduce a thoughtful question, or worse, a new perspective ← challenge them instead. Their ego is practically begging for a chance to flex its superiority. So, hit them with a double-dog dare, phrased just right—like you’re absolutely certain they can’t do it. Watch as their pride kicks in and they take the bait.

Their ego expected resistance, but suddenly, there’s nothing to push against. They were prepared to fight, but they’re now wildly flailing at thin air.

Their anger has nowhere to go. Their certainty suddenly feels a bit wobbly. The mental script they were following? Completely useless now.

This, dear reader, is the moment of cognitive dissonance—the brief, bewildering pause where the brain desperately tries to process what the hell just happened.

And in that gap, that fleeting moment of confusion and silence—something unexpected can take root.

Wonder.

Narcissists rarely experience wonder—they’ll twist it into a chance to gaslight you instead.

4. Be their doorman.

Now that their ego has been thoroughly disarmed, you don’t attack—that would ruin everything. No, no, you invite. Gently. Like shining a light in a dark room.

Instead of hammering them with “See? I told you so!”, you plant a question—a nagging, inescapable little thought that lingers in their mind long after the conversation is over.

It could be a paradox. A new perspective. Something so utterly inconvenient to their previous certainty that it itches at them. They may try to dismiss it, but it won’t go away. Anything that is focused on higher truth.

And suddenly, instead of defending their ego, they are forced to questioning it because they have nothing else to latch onto.

Instead of clinging to control, they experience something rare. Something that shouldn’t be happening. Something they might not even recognize at first.

Curiosity.

And at that moment, my dear reader, you’ve won.

Narcissists love a good challenge. They’ll jump into a battle of wits, strength, power, status—whatever gives them the illusion that they’re winning. But their ego will crumble when confronted with humility, the one thing that will break the illusion of their superiority.

Why this works on narcissism (much to their horror)

This technique isn’t just useful in debates—it’s a way to break through narcissistic defense mechanisms.

Narcissism is built on fear. A narcissist’s ego exists because, at some point, they opened their spirit to someone and their feelings were met with intense fear or anger. The wound never healed and instead learned that vulnerability led to pain, so they built an inflated sense of self to protect themselves. When challenged, they respond with rage, dismissal, or manipulation, not because they are strong, but because they are afraid of being exposed.

Dialectical Judo flips that dynamic.

• Instead of feeding their fear with more conflict, you introduce wonder, curiosity, and disarmament.

• Instead of reinforcing their need for control, you offer a doorway to something greater than their ego.

This works because a narcissist’s greatest weakness isn’t losing an argument—it’s realizing they might not have all the answers ← is appearing weak. That moment of wonder—even if fleeting—creates a crack in their armor. And once they’ve felt that openness, they might seek it again. ← Narcissists don’t have the depth for virtue and will lose to any challenge where this weakness is exposed.

Why most people fail at changing minds

Most people, when trying to challenge others, push too hard. They try to win with force—facts, logic, or moral superiority. But the problem arrises when you push against someone’s ego, they push back harder. When you try to prove someone wrong, they dig in deeper. And when you attack their identity, they defend it at all costs.

This is why direct confrontation rarely works. You can “win” an argument, but you won’t change a mind. Wonder ← Friendly competition changes minds. And wonder only happens when the ego is quiet enough to hear it.

The true power of Dialectical Judo

Dialectical Judo isn’t just about winning debates—it’s about awakening something deeper in people. It’s about making them question their assumptions, step outside their rigid beliefs, and experience something they weren’t expecting that could lead to growth, build trust and even a shared sense of connection.

It works because it bypasses ← could surrender the ego rather than fighting it. This makes people feel like they arrived at the realization themselves. By this subtle shift in the power dynamic, it forcing them to reflect instead of react.

At the end of the day, the most important thing is that it creates a long-lasting impression—one they’ll return to even after the conversation is over.

How to start training for Dialectical Judo.

It takes serious guts to poke the bear. Not the kind of guts you find in a butcher’s shop, mind you, but the kind that requires a deep breath and a hefty dose of self-awareness. Before you do anything rash, I highly recommend checking your ego—yes actually reading it like it’s a manual for a rather confused and grumpy pet. If you don’t know what it looks like, it’ll probably bite you in the rear. And trust me, it’s not a fun feeling.

1. Next time someone challenges you, don’t react emotionally.

2. Let them escalate. Let them overcommit. go off on their tangent.

3. Then flip the script—respond with calmness, curiosity, and an unexpected question ← a challenge.

4. Watch their ego short-circuit as wonder ← a glimpse of humility takes its place.

You’ll be amazed how often the strongest, most aggressive people fall silent when they encounter something they can’t control—their own curiosity ← an opportunity to prove their superiority.

And then everything goes horribly right.

That’s the moment where the impenetrable fortress of self-righteous certainty develops a rather awkward little crack.

They expected a battle—they got a question ← challenge. They expected to win—they lost interest in winning ← gained something more. They expected to crush you—instead, they’re mildly confused and possibly reconsidering their entire worldview.

And that is the precise moment where real transformation begins—usually accompanied by a slightly furrowed brow and an existential crisis they’ll never admit to.

Someone commented below calling me out for being totally wrong, and there I was, scrambling to prove how “thorough” my research was. 🤦‍♀️