6 min readJun 10, 2026 03:11 PM IST First published on: Jun 10, 2026 at 03:11 PM ISTA recent social media post by Chinese scholar Keji Mao told an instructive story: “I gave two presentations on how China builds its industrial and technological ecosystem,” he wrote, “one for an Indian audience and one for a Vietnamese audience. Although the content was largely the same…, the feedback from the Vietnamese and Indian participants was strikingly different. When I discussed the gaps between Vietnam and China, my Vietnamese friends listened very attentively to my analysis of Vietnam’s weaknesses. They even proactively acknowledged Vietnam’s deficiencies and asked me to analyse more specific issues in greater detail. However, when I compared China and India, many Indian friends became quite argumentative. They tried to compete with or challenge the Chinese perspective on almost every point, to the point where I could barely develop my analysis. As a result, they might have won the debate, but missed a valuable opportunity to have a meaningful exchange. So,” he added, “I came to know which country would be the real winner for ‘China+1’ many years beforehand.”This anecdote provides a jarring, yet necessary, mirror for a phenomenon frequently observed in intellectual and diplomatic circles. It echoes an observation of the late Canadian Ambassador David Malone, who once noted that a great failing of Indian diplomacy is that its practitioners are “better at winning arguments than at winning friends.” This is not merely a critique of our diplomats; it is a commentary on a broader cultural reflex.AdvertisementIndian history is rich with the tradition of samvad — the art of dialectical discourse. Ancient Indian thinkers thrived on rigorous debate, where the goal was to dismantle an opponent’s argument to reach a higher truth. In this context, argumentation was seen as a virtuous pursuit, a crucible for knowledge. However, in the modern era, this cultural predilection for debate has arguably morphed into a performative contest. When the goal shifts from synthesis (learning from the other) to victory (defeating the other), the spirit of samvad is lost. We often see engagement not as a bridge-building exercise, but as a zero-sum game, where conceding a point is interpreted as a surrender of intellectual or national standing.Beyond the historical framing, there lies a more contemporary psychological driver: A profound, often subconscious, defensive insecurity. India is a nation that has spent centuries navigating the trauma of colonial imposition and the subsequent struggle to assert its agency on the global stage. This creates a pervasive need to validate our perspective and standing. For generations, Indian intellectuals had to defend our traditions, history, and economic potential against Western critiques that were often patronising or motivated. Consequently, there is a deep-seated suspicion that foreign insights are not objective observations, but rather strategic moves in a broader game of geopolitical or cultural dominance. When an outsider, especially one representing a competing power or a different developmental model, offers a critique, it is frequently reflexively internalised as an attack, rather than an objective analysis. The impulse is to deflect, counter, and dominate the narrative, to protect the image of the nation and the ego of the interlocutor. So a Chinese scholar like Keji Mao offering a critique of India’s industrial ecosystem is not received as a neutral teaching but as a data point in a comparative assessment between a “superior” China and us. To accept his insights is, in the minds of Indian interlocutors, to accept a position of inferiority. As India seeks to assert its place as a global power, there is an intense anxiety about wishing to be “seen” as we see ourselves and to “set the record straight” when we are judged negatively.Also Read | Dear Gen Z, you don’t need to be treated like cockroaches, you can change the system from withinAll this is understandable but self-defeating. As Mao rightly points out, the irony of this approach is that while Indians may “win” the argument, they lose the opportunity for a meaningful exchange. In the modern globalised landscape, where collaborative problem-solving is the currency of influence, being the loudest voice in the room often results in isolation rather than leadership. When we prioritise winning the argument, we effectively shut down the feedback loops necessary for growth. The Vietnamese took actionable insights from what they heard from Mao and benefitted. Defensive posturing, while emotionally satisfying in the moment, creates an intellectual echo-chamber that stunts the capacity for strategic growth.AdvertisementIt is odd that a society that traditionally respects the wisdom of the Guru behaves this way; one would expect a culture that prizes the transmission of knowledge to be a sponge for global insight. But when an Indian engages with a foreigner — or even with an Indian peer they do not personally venerate — the traditional hierarchical framework of the Guru-shishya parampara fails. Because the foreigner is not a “Guru” within the recognised tradition, he is not granted the automatic pass of respect. Instead, he is treated as an equal or a competitor in a secular marketplace of ideas, where the cultural reflex shifts from reverence to rejection.you may likeReforming this tendency does not require abandoning the Indian passion for debate. Instead, it requires a conscious shift in the intent of that debate, from defensive to strategic. True confidence is marked by the ability to accommodate uncomfortable critiques without feeling compelled to immediately refute them. Learning to distinguish between a challenge to one’s ego and a challenge to one’s assumptions is the hallmark of a mature strategic culture. Before launching a counterargument, one might ask, “Does this response contribute to my understanding or solve the problem, or does it merely serve to assert my position?” The challenge is to privilege learning over dominance in our mental hierarchy of preferred outcomes.If India is to successfully navigate the complex geopolitical and economic currents of the 21st century — particularly regarding initiatives like the “China+1” strategy — we must reconcile our vibrant tradition of discourse with a pragmatic openness. Ultimately, the ability to win friends and gain insights is far more valuable to our national trajectory than the fleeting satisfaction of winning an argument.The writer is a fourth-term Congress MP from Thiruvananthapuram