Greg Mumm Greg lives in South Dakota and his interests include 4-Wheeling, fly-fishing, and camping. |
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The Open Gate
March/April 2010
By Greg Mumm
I re-learned a lesson earlier this week. Simple lesson, but important.
Let’s call him Bob, and Bob was irritating me. The ignorance with which he was approaching the issue we were dealing with was amazingly narrow-minded. There didn’t seem to be anything that I was responding with that Bob would even listen to. He just wouldn’t break his focus on the one part of the issue that had less to do with the issue than any of the other issues at hand. It seemed like the more I discussed it, the less willing he was to even hear a single thing I was saying.
On top of that, Bob started interjecting personal remarks in his comments, with me as the butt of those cheap shots. I mean, really, was it necessary to bring my dog into it…?
This was all taking place in a small meeting of leaders. Because the intent was to work through differences between user groups, I sat back and took a deep breath to clear my mind enough to seek a different path. In that short time span, someone else jumped in with some things and gave me a little more time to think.
This wasn’t my first encounter with Bob on the subject. Over the phone in a couple of conference calls—and in a previous face-to-face meeting—we had argued through this already. Unfortunately, Bob was just one of those personalities that I am unwilling to back down from and especially when I’m sure I’m right. What was most frustrating here was that I had convinced him in the previous meeting that the direction we needed to take was more advantageous to everyone collectively. He had bought in… at least, that is what I had thought at the end of the meeting (and pretty much what everyone else thought too). But here he was, once again, back to pushing the same lame line.
This switchback was baffling to me and this meeting we were now in was at a critical juncture. I watched for a bit as the discussion continued and one of the other guys, Steve, picked up where I left off with Bob. Steve asked a couple of questions and then he listened—intently. Bob talked. Steve acknowledged by shaking his head. When Bob seemed to run low, Steve would ask him another question. And Steve was sincere.
I sat there and watched Bob talk himself directly into the right answer. I was dumbfounded. Steve didn’t talk Bob into anything. Bob talked himself into it.
I blew it. I had badgered Bob and, in my own myopic focus, forgot the Cardinal Rule of convincing other people.
He that complies against his will,
Is of his own opinion still.
Which he may adhere to, yet disown,
For reasons to himself best known.
How stupid was that?
So what does this have to do with land use? Everything… and with everything else we do.
