Why changing minds is harder than ever
Why motivated reasoning and tribalism are getting in the way of persuasion efforts
Changing minds has never been harder. Not because we lack persuasive arguments, but because people aren’t listening.
Two moments in the last week got me thinking about the challenges we increasingly face in public affairs environments:
Dismissing expertise too quickly. My own family member didn’t listen to a recent episode of my Craft Politics podcast, because, a few minutes in, they decided our guest speaker was “biased” and not worth listening to. Turns out, had the person listened to the full interview, they would have discovered that our guest actually made many of the points they made to me about the topic we were analyzing on the show.
The struggle to empathize. I was asked what it would take to de-polarize political discourse. The person asking me this question was having a hard time comprehending how any individual could support Trump or Poilievre. This same person understood at an intellectual level why these voters vote the way they do, but had a hard time actually empathizing with these people.
These two experiences highlight a growing problem for public affairs professionals: motivated reasoning and tribalism are making persuasion harder than ever.
Thanks, echo chambers
Society is increasingly split into ideological camps that filter information to fit their pre-existing beliefs. Silos and echo chambers are no longer a fringe issue—they are the default for how people consume information.
This didn’t start with the pandemic.
In 2014, the Pew Research Center found that in the United States, for example, Republicans and Democrats are “more divided along ideological lines – and partisan antipathy is deeper and more extensive – than at any point in the last two decades”. And that was before Trump. Before TikTok. Before the balkanization of news consumption on platforms like Reddit, YouTube, Discord, WhatsApp etc.
It used to be that partisans disagreed on a shared set of facts, and even values. No more. Today, partisans not only disagree on policy—they inhabit entirely different realities.
Doubling down on beliefs to spite the facts
History shows that when confronted with evidence that contradicts deeply held beliefs, people don’t reconsider—they double down.
Example: The Iraq War. In 2005, as evidence mounted that Iraq did not have weapons of mass destruction, researchers found that conservative participants shown this corrective information actually became more convinced that Iraq did have WMDs. This is called the backfire effect. Rather than updating their views, people dig in deeper.
We see the same dynamic today:
Despite no credible evidence of widespread fraud in the 2020 U.S. election – and dozens of court cases debunking such claims – large segments of the public remain convinced the election was “stolen.”
A 2023 poll found that over 50% of New Hampshire Republicans believe President Biden’s 2020 victory was fraudulent (a view shared by 85% of those identifying as strong Trump supporters).
But before you blame Republicans, keep this in mind: social psychologists note it “happens across the political spectrum,” as people readily accept stories that flatter their side and dismiss facts that challenge their worldview. There’s even a name for it: Naïve Realism—the belief that our own worldview is the most rational while others are hopelessly biased.
For example, some left-leaning citizens eagerly believed a false online rumour about a political opponent because it confirmed their suspicions.
In case after case, when core beliefs or identity are on the line, presenting contradictory evidence often leads people to entrench further in their original position rather than relent.
Why Facts Don’t Change Minds
What drives this pervasive resistance to persuasion? It’s a question I’ve obsessed over my entire career. And I’m not alone. Decades of research in psychology and political science point to motivated reasoning – the subconscious tendency to fit facts to a pre-determined conclusion that aligns with one’s desires or group identity.
People don’t process information neutrally. Instead, they rely on three powerful biases:
Confirmation bias: Seeking out and embracing information that aligns with pre-existing beliefs while ignoring contradictory evidence.
Disconfirmation bias. Scrutinizing, counter-arguing, and rejecting opposing viewpoints more aggressively than those that confirm our own.
Identity-Protective Cognition – Defending the beliefs of our social or ideological group, even in the face of contrary evidence, to maintain our identity.
These biases act as psychological armour, shielding people’s preexisting beliefs from change. Facts alone don’t change minds that are motivated not to change.
The Limits of Fact-Based Messaging
Despite this, we can’t help ourselves when designing campaigns or messaging. We default to using digital digital outreach, advertising blitzes, and rapid-response fact-checking to sway public opinion. “The facts are on our side!” “If only more people understand the facts, we’d win!” I call this Issue Delusion, and it’s one of the big reasons so few campaigns get the traction they want.
That’s because evidence shows that these tactics are usually insufficient to penetrate entrenched beliefs on their own. The “spray and pray” approach of blasting audiences with facts, data, or ads runs up against the mental firewalls described above.
Studies find that even well-intentioned fact-checks backfire. Political scientists Brendan Nyhan and Jason Reifler observed that corrections “frequently fail to reduce misperceptions among the targeted ideological groups” – and in some cases, corrections actually increase misperceptions, as committed partisans double down in response.
In other words, presenting people with evidence debunking a false belief can reinforce that belief if it threatens their identity or worldview. How often have you seen this play out online? A myth-busting article intended to set the record straight ends up being rejected as “biased” by those who needed it most, who then become even more convinced of the original false narrative.
Why do information campaigns so often hit a dead end? One reason is that they typically operate on a “deficit model” of communication – assuming that the target audience simply lacks information, and that providing the correct facts will change their mind.
In reality, decades of experience show this assumption is flawed. People do not approach new information as blank slates.
As one behavioural scientist explains, “past experiences and beliefs can act as a perceptual filter” through which all new facts are interpreted .
In many controversial domains, a person’s cultural and political identities “have a greater influence in shaping…opinions…than actual knowledge about the topic”.
As we saw during Covid, simply giving people more scientific data about vaccine safety will not persuade those whose identities are tied to skepticism of those issues. They view the information through an ideological filter, often dismissing it as fake or untrustworthy.
The deficit model is consistently faulty. And yet, it’s the first thing we grab for when we need to education people about our cause or issue. We do this in the face of digital media and echo chambers, which reinforce motivated reasoning rather than overcome it.
Online, people self-select news sources and communities that reflect their existing views (confirmation bias in action).
Misleading claims spread quickly among like-minded followers, while corrective voices struggle to gain traction.
The modern fake news epidemic is driven as much by our psychological tribalism as by the tools of technology. We tend to label any countervailing information as “fake” simply because it challenges our worldview.
So let’s be real: no volume of tweets or banner ads will convert someone who is psychologically motivated to reject the source.
For public affairs campaigns, the implication is sobering: data dumps, fact sheets, and digital ad campaigns alone rarely break through entrenched beliefs.
If anything, a barrage of facts from the “other side” can trigger reflexive pushback.
To truly shift opinions, we need a different approach – one that goes beyond broadcasting information and instead engages people at a human level.
Deep, In-Person Conversations
While people resist impersonal persuasion, they can be reached through deep, meaningful conversations.
Growing evidence suggests that face-to-face dialogue – built on trust, empathy, and personal connection – is one of the few strategies that can soften defences and open minds in a lasting way.
This approach, called deep canvassing, involves longer, empathetic discussions rather than transactional exchanges. Instead of arguing or overwhelming someone with facts, the persuader asks questions, listens, and shares personal stories.
Pioneering research by UC Berkeley’s David Broockman and Yale’s Joshua Kalla has shown that even one 10-minute conversation on a contentious issue can substantially reduce prejudice for months. These conversations work because they tap into personal reflection rather than triggering defensive reactions.
These brief but thoughtful exchanges – which included the canvasser asking the voter to reflect on a time they themselves felt judged or ostracized – produced a greater drop in bias than would normally occur over a decade of societal change . Notably, the attitude change persisted even when the voters were later exposed to opposing campaign messages, indicating that something fundamental had shifted in their perspective.
It goes against everything we know to be true about modern-day communications. In a world of short-form content, don’t we need to figure out how to deliver a message in three seconds? Well, maybe, if you’re selling a product. But when selling an idea? A policy change? You need more than three seconds.
This is what I find compelling about these studies: a respectful conversation achieved what countless ads and fact sheets could not.
Similarly, Broockman and Kalla found that when advocates “ask questions, listen sincerely and engage [people] with stories,” they significantly increase their chances of changing minds on hot-button issues.
That’s because data fails, especially compared to human stories and lived experiences. Listening is more powerful than talking. Give someone a voice and listen to their concerns. In doing so, they will lower their defensive walls. It’s more humane and effective than lecturing them. And when we’re pumping out our “facts” and correcting the record in our campaigns, we’re lecturing.
The power of deep conversation lies in building personal connection and trust, which can alleviate the identity threat that fuels motivated reasoning.
In a one-on-one conversation, individuals feel more respected and less attacked than when they see an opposing argument in a Facebook post or a TV ad. They have space to explain their perspective and feel heard.
A skilled conversationalist can then gently introduce new viewpoints or facts in a non-confrontational way, often by sharing their own story or finding common ground.
This method doesn’t trigger the same knee-jerk “reject/defend” reaction that a blunt fact-check might. Instead, it invites reflection. Psychologically, the person’s motivation shifts – they no longer see the interaction as a zero-sum battle between tribes, but as a mutual search for understanding.
Sure, not every conversation will succeed. Meaningful dialogue takes time and effort. But the evidence of what can work gives hope that even in today’s polarized climate, minds can be changed one conversation at a time.
Strategies for Deep Engagement
What does this all mean? It’s time to get sober on the limits of traditional outreach and instead prioritize deep engagement over “communicating.” Here’s how:
Step One: Ditch digital for in-person wherever possible.
Organize trained volunteers to engage in face-to-face discussions instead of relying on impersonal digital outreach.
Equip canvassers to ask open-ended questions and listen more than they talk.
This isn’t cheap. But you know what’s often more expensive? Failing to engage your community, failing to change minds, and ultimately, losing.
Step Two: Use narrative framing instead of data.
Humans are storytelling creatures. Frame advocacy in terms of values and emotions rather than just facts.
Example: Instead of using climate change statistics, share a farmer’s story about how erratic weather has affected their crops.
Narrative framing also involves aligning the issue with the audience’s core values. Research in moral psychology shows that reframing a message in terms of the values of the listener can make them more receptive. For example, environmental protection can be framed in terms of purity/cleanliness (a value that resonates with conservative audiences) or national pride in our natural heritage, rather than in terms of preventing harm to distant others.
Similarly, a public health campaign might frame vaccination as an expression of community loyalty and protection for one’s neighbors. By telling stories and invoking shared values, you reduce the instinct for the audience to see the issue as “us vs. them.” Instead, you invite them to see themselves in the story.
Listening to your audience’s values and fears should inform how you frame your narrative. In practice, this could mean adjusting campaign messaging after holding focus groups or town halls to hear how the public talks about the issue in their own words. Let those real concerns guide the story you tell. But also, don’t dismiss what you hear if it doesn’t line up with your expectations. The voter is always right, even when they’re wrong.
Step Three: Embed empathy into campaign strategy
Invest in active listening training for teams.
But the bigger thing is to inject empathy into everything you do. Actively look to spend time with your constituents or key audiences. Not just to say you have, but to listen to how they feel.
Embed empathy into the campaign plan. Allocate resources and time for deep engagement: for instance, budget for field organizers who specialize in community dialogue, or schedule fewer but more interactive public meetings rather than a plethora of one-way press releases.
Set metrics that value quality of engagement (e.g., number of substantive conversations held, shifts in sentiment in follow-up surveys, testimonials from participants whose views evolved) in addition to quantity of impressions or clicks. Importantly, ensure leadership buy-in – senior decision-makers should champion the idea that changing minds is a long game, and empower their teams to prioritize relationship-building with the public.
Conclusion
In a fragmented, tribalized public arena, changing minds is extraordinarily hard work – but it is work that must be done. And it can be done. Just not en masse, and not in a scaleable way.
Mass messaging and digital ad targeting will continue to yield diminishing returns when audiences’ mental guards are up. If you’re serious about shifting public opinion, you’ll need to embrace the harder path of authentic engagement.
Changing minds one by one is slow, painstaking, and often uncomfortable – but it is the only reliable way to combat the balkanization of public opinion.
If we want to slow the splintering of society into isolated ideological camps, we have to do the unglamorous work of talking with people, not at them.