Debate Yourself

I've spoken before about external barriers and the need for accountability from those in power. What I haven't really shared is my perspective on personal accountability, and the need to take ownership of your life, your outcomes, and ultimately, your inputs.

In Embrace the Difference, I touched on my concept that "nothing is what it is" and the idea that you should "be your own genesis." To be fair, those are pretty good overarching taglines for how I think about accountability. But they don't quite get into the heart of it.

So, let's do that.

As someone from a colorful background, this is probably the topic I'm most passionate about. It hits home for me, and I'll tell you why.

I've always been the Devil's advocate in a conversation. I've always tried to find the flaws before I find the assets. I've always wanted to be the person who didn't miss anything, even when seeing what others overlooked meant ruffling a few feathers.

That tendency has shown up in almost every area of my life: conversations, work, relationships, decision-making. But where it has shown up the most, and where people can't see it, is within myself.

I believe that in order to truly be great, you have to know where you are less than great. Or at least, I think so.

I remember being a small child and my mom complaining that I always thought I was right. My response was, "I only speak about things I know, so I guess, in turn, I would always be right."

God bless my mom for dealing with my budding personality and fearless tongue.

In a similar way, I was raised on the idea that if you know better, you do better. Because of that, one of the core principles of my life has been constant internal and external assessment.

Do I know this?

Am I actually good at this?

Could I be wrong?

What might be the better option?

What's keeping this situation from evolving the way I want it to?

It's a constant, almost incessant questioning of the world around me and my place within it.

But here's the interesting part: I only do this when I deem something relevant.

Funny how the mind works.

For a nail color, a dining room table, or even when I chose my first car, the decision was simple. I could assess the options, make a choice, and move on.

But when the stakes are higher, when the decision has something to do with who I am, what I've done, or the life I'm creating, that same instinct for analysis becomes something much more consequential.

Because accountability requires you to ask questions that aren't always comfortable.

Not just, "What happened to me?"

But, "What did I contribute to this?"

Not just, "Why am I here?"

But, "What choices brought me here?"

And perhaps most importantly: "What can I do differently?"

I'll tell you a story, self-assessment aside, that may make this more real for you.

I was on the debate team in high school, and I absolutely loved the art of debate. To this day, I'll sometimes rewatch old presidential debates just to listen to how people navigate the assessment of one another. There is something fascinating about watching two people with fundamentally different positions dissect each other's arguments, identify contradictions, and make a case for why their position is the stronger one.

A lot of those same principles can be applied to the assessment of self. In fact, I think we should.

A good example of this came during the second presidential debate in 2012. When the conversation turned to American jobs and China, Romney criticized the administration's approach to trade and argued that China needed to be held accountable for unfair practices. Obama didn't just argue against the policy. He examined Romney's own history and pointed out the tension between Romney's position on China and his past investments in companies that outsourced work there.

That's debate.

You don't simply listen to what someone says they believe. You examine the history behind it. You look for contradictions. You ask whether their actions support their stated position. You identify the gaps.

And then you do the uncomfortable thing:

You do it to yourself.

Take a position you hold about your life. Maybe it's about your career, your relationships, your finances, your health, your parenting, or simply where you are in life right now.

Then, for a moment, pretend you are debating yourself.

What do you claim you believe?

Do your actions support that belief?

What does your history suggest?

Where have you contradicted yourself?

What patterns keep showing up?

What part of the outcome can you reasonably attribute to circumstances outside of your control, and what part can you attribute to your own decisions?

And if someone were arguing against you, what would they point out?

That last question is the one I find particularly uncomfortable, because it forces us to step outside of our own narrative.

It asks us to stop being the person making the case for ourselves and, for a moment, become the person cross-examining it.

That, to me, is where accountability begins.

In my case, I have been denied roles I was qualified for, capable of succeeding in, and historically a front-runner to receive. It is entirely possible that I didn't get some of those roles because of politics, relationships, or factors rooted in unfairness. And it's okay to sit with that. It's okay to acknowledge that something wasn't fair and to validate the feelings that come with it.

But eventually, you have to assess yourself.

Was there something I could have done that would have put me in a position to be more politically favored?

Were there relationships I could have built before those interviews that might have changed how I was perceived or assessed?

Were there actions I could have taken leading up to that moment that would have given me an advantage, even if those actions weren't technically part of the process?

What would have had to be true for me to get that role?

Those questions don't invalidate the possibility that the process was unfair. They give me something else: agency.

Because what you're really doing in that moment is giving yourself a choice the next time.

Maybe I don't want to play the political game. Maybe I want my career to be rooted entirely in merit. Maybe I'd rather work somewhere where relationships and internal politics play less of a role. Maybe I decide that I'm willing to play the game when it benefits me.

All of those are valid choices.

But they are choices I can only make once I've honestly assessed the environment I was operating in.

And that's the part of accountability I think we sometimes misunderstand. Accountability isn't always admitting that you were wrong. Sometimes it's simply being willing to understand the entire equation.

What happened?

What was outside of my control?

What was within my control?

What did I contribute?

And what could I do differently next time?

If you refuse to analyze why something happened, you surrender your ability to change the probability of a different outcome next time.

You don't get to control every outcome. But analysis gives you information, and information gives you choices.

Without analysis, you will continue to encounter the same failures without understanding why.

I wholeheartedly believe this.

If you don't identify the gaps in yourself, you leave those gaps unexamined and give yourself very little opportunity to change them. But when you are willing to analyze yourself honestly, you give yourself the opportunity to decide who you want to be, what you want to improve, and what you are willing to accept.

The goal isn't to convince yourself that everything is your fault.

The goal is to understand what is yours.

Because what is yours is what you can change.