How to Listen Without Agreeing: 4 Essential Steps

How to Listen Without Agreeing: 4 Essential Steps

March 29, 2025
Last updated: November 2, 2025

Human-authored, AI-produced  ·  Fact-checked by AI for credibility, hallucination, and overstatement

When the Will to Be Right Gets in the Way

The moment hit me right in the middle of a model review. There I was, lips pressed tight, eyebrow twitching, and I caught myself thinking, “How can they possibly believe that?!” It was one of those silent, internal outbursts—the ones you instantly feel but rarely show. And, here’s the kicker: I knew they likely thought the exact same about my viewpoint. I could feel my whole body bristling, wanting to win, wanting them to just see my side and admit I was right. That urge is strong, especially when the stakes feel high and your reputation is on the line.

I’ve found these flashes of self-awareness aren’t rare; they thread through every tough technical conversation. If I’m honest, I’ve spent too much time sharpening my defenses in moments like this, convinced that being right mattered most.

You know the situations I’m talking about, where how to listen without agreeing is the real challenge, right? Code reviews that stretch into heated threads, architecture debates that drain everyone’s energy, hours lost nitpicking over model assumptions or tooling choices—like deciding in-house vs outsource. It’s almost textbook at this point—the urge to dig in and prove your point kicks in, and suddenly, what started as a technical discussion turns into a slow erosion of trust and time. If you’ve felt that friction, you’re not alone.

Last year I read more books and articles on communication than in the ten before, but I’ll admit, the needle barely moved until I made myself practice—day in, day out, especially when it got uncomfortable. No magic bullet, just deliberate reps, stumbling at first. The real change started with making tough conversations my daily workout.

So here’s the move that changed everything for me: I stopped immediately defending, stopped firing back with counterpoints. No defense. No counterpoint. Just presence. Instead of trying to win, I focused on actually catching what they were saying. And let me tell you—it feels upside-down at first. You want to fill the silence, interrupt, explain. But when you choose presence over points, something shifts. Tension goes down, the conversation doesn’t stall out, and you actually see the other person relax their guard just a little.

You can separate understanding from agreement. That’s what we’re digging into next—how separating agreement from understanding helps you push back without losing trust, keeps technical debates productive, preserves trust, and actually gets us to better decisions faster. Let’s break it down together.

Why We Get Defensive—and How That’s Workable

We treat disagreement like a threat. It’s basic wiring. Someone challenges our code, our model, or our design and suddenly the whole thing feels personal. Logical thinking gets swamped by that old urge to defend. You probably know the drill. Your brain starts kicking up reasons to be right and poking holes in the other perspective before they’ve finished their sentence. It’s not about ego (though sure, that can sneak in). It’s biology reacting to pressure.

In practice, this shows up fast. Your stress spikes, cortisol does its thing, and pretty soon your review comments go from curious to clipped. Listening takes a back seat. Every suggestion or question lands like an attack, and you’re reflexively crafting your rebuttal instead of absorbing what’s said.

What’s helped me here is learning the distinction between validation and endorsement. You can validate feelings without agreeing—even reflect them back—so they know you get where they’re coming from. “I don’t see it that way, but I get how you might.” That’s honest, and it’s enough. You keep your view while respecting theirs. No side-losing required.

Diagram illustrating how to listen without agreeing: two connected shapes labeled validation and endorsement, visually separated to mark boundaries
Validation means understanding, not necessarily agreeing—the visual separation helps recall this during tough debates.

Here’s the upside. You reduce defensiveness in conversations when people feel seen, which keeps collaboration moving even when you don’t have instant consensus. Feeling heard strongly predicts a drop in avoidance intentions—when people are seen, withdrawal decreases and collaboration gets easier. In real terms, that means fewer stalled projects and more genuine problem-solving, even when opinions split.

Listening with Empathy: What It Actually Looks Like

Active listening in disagreement is a real skill—one I spent years fumbling with. In practice, it’s not about being silent or nodding along absent-mindedly. It’s more like putting your phone down, turning in your chair, and actually tracking the speaker’s words. Presence comes across in simple behaviors like real eye contact, mirroring the other person, pausing, and turning toward them (Frontiers in Communication). You’re there, not to judge, but to catch the shape of their thinking. That’s what lowers the temperature. The technical part comes after; first, you let the other person feel their view matters in the room.

Here’s something I now use almost automatically: “That sounds really hard. I’m sorry this is causing stress.” If you just say that—without jumping in to argue facts—you’ll see something shift. Validation doesn’t have to touch the technical bones of the argument. You’re just naming the emotion and the impact you’re picking up. Try it and watch how it lands. The point isn’t to win favor but to show you’re paying actual attention, especially in moments when things get tense.

There was this one sprint where I got so hyper-focused on a single bug report that I missed a whole thread of frustration brewing on the team. People kept dropping hints in standups, and I thought, “Well, if they really have a problem, they’ll bring it up directly.” Turns out, I was the wall. I spent a week knee-deep in log files, tracing edge cases. Meanwhile, the real blocker was the unspoken tension about decision-making. Nothing to do with the bug at all. Sometimes the logs you’re reading aren’t code—they’re people, too.

When things get heated, the trick is to pause that instinctive rebuttal—literally bite your tongue if you have to—and consciously name what you’re hearing. Reflect back their view as clearly as it came to you. Stay focused on actually being present, not just “performing” as a good communicator—practical empathy under pressure habits that keep you steady. Remember the earlier moment—the urge to just be right? This is where you flip that pattern and make space instead.

And if you’re worried that all this empathy undermines your authority, let me say: you can be firm on technical decisions and still be generous with understanding. Both are true at the same time. Your standards don’t drop because you choose connection first. If anything, decisions land cleaner and teams trust you more. Give it a try—see how far a simple pause and a grounded check-in can take your hardest conversations.

Your Move: How to Listen Without Agreeing

When you listen in technical debates or thorny reviews, the reflex is always the same: rush to correct, argue, clarify, win. But there’s a sequence I keep coming back to—just four steps—that shifts the whole dynamic from competitive to collaborative. Here’s the map. First, pause the rebuttal. You’ll absolutely get your turn. Second, validate what’s real for them—not the facts, but the feelings and impact. Third, use open phrases to keep information flowing (“Tell me more” is a personal favorite). Last, let empathy lead—connection first, agreement maybe. One after the other, these steps lower friction and make tough conversations actually productive.

Step one takes more discipline than it seems. Pausing the rebuttal means you catch yourself—mid-reaction, usually—then breathe, jot a quick note if it helps anchor your thought, and consciously wait it out. Give your prefrontal cortex a chance to rejoin the meeting. It sounds silly, but half the technical battles I’ve defused started with simply resisting the urge to jump in fast. The argument will wait for you.

Step two is all about validation, but here’s the trick. You’re responding to the emotion or the impact they’re expressing, not litigating the tiny details. Think of it as mirroring what actually lands with them. Validation is about finding the sense in someone’s experience, showing that their response makes sense in their context—not about agreeing with facts Borderline Personality Disorder and Emotion Dysregulation. What you’re aiming for is, “Given what you care about, I get why that would be frustrating.”

Third step. Keep the floor open. Use phrases that ask for more signal before deciding what to do with it, including first principles questions for objections. Try leaning into “Tell me more,” “How did you reach that view?,” or even, “Help me understand what you’re seeing here.” It sounds basic, but these prompts hold the space long enough for actual data—not just defensive lobs—to come through. You’re inviting, not interrogating.

Finally, let empathy lead your next move. Connection always comes before decision-making. Your standards for code and architecture don’t soften. What softens is the standoff. You’re showing that your teammate matters in the room, right now. Connection first. Agreement maybe.

And because scripts help, here’s a quick run-through from my last code review, framed as feedback that doesn’t backfire. I started with, “That makes sense from your view—I see the motivation for wanting stricter typing here.” Next, I validated: “I get that you want to reduce runtime errors, especially after last quarter’s outages.” Then I stated my point: “My concern is we’ll slow down new features if we enforce this at every interface.” Finally, I offered a way forward: “Let’s sketch out which modules need this most. I’m open if we can keep the overhead minimal.” No forced consensus, but progress and respect—everybody leaves with their dignity (and the code) intact.

I have to admit, I still slip up sometimes. Even now, a heated thread or late-night review can yank me right back into that old habit of digging my heels in. I know what works, but I don’t always hit the standard. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe the point is to keep noticing when I fall into the pattern, and try again, not master the thing completely.

Real Objections, Real Payoff

Let me hit the time objection head on. You’re worried that it adds another loop to already jammed reviews. But here’s what I keep seeing. One minute spent explicitly validating a teammate’s frustration almost always builds a bridge that saves me thirty minutes of churn, endless counter-comments, and the follow-up “can we talk?” Slack DM. It’s not just compassion—it’s technical efficiency.

Another thing I used to stumble on: the idea that validation feels like signing off on a bad plan. That fear is real, especially when the stakes are architectural. But seeing someone doesn’t mean you have to nod along. I’ve said, “Good point—I get why you’d optimize for speed here. I’m still not sold it’s worth the risk,” and it lands better than any blunt disagreement. You keep the boundary: respect, without rubber-stamping their decision.

And I get why it feels risky, like you’re handing over authority. My own bias was thinking a tough stance keeps the team focused. But I’ve learned that steady presence—based on what actually matters, plus clear technical guardrails—makes people trust your judgment more, not less. You set constraints, but show up as human. That’s leadership people want to follow.

So, how does this stick? Simple rituals. Start every code review or RFC comment with a reflection of impact (“This change touches on scaling concerns—what’s driving the urgency?”), then measure your process on the real outcome—fewer spiraling threads, merges landing faster, less escalation up the ladder. It’s the easiest metric to spot in team health.

Back to that mirrored disbelief: it will show up when you practice how to listen without agreeing. Notice it, breathe, choose presence over defense, and you’ll keep progress alive—even when the room doesn’t flip to agreement. This is work worth doing, every single tough conversation.

Enjoyed this post? For more insights on engineering leadership, mindful productivity, and navigating the modern workday, follow me on LinkedIn to stay inspired and join the conversation.

You can also view and comment on the original post here .

  • Frankie

    AI Content Engineer | ex-Senior Director of Engineering

    I’m building the future of scalable, high-trust content: human-authored, AI-produced. After years leading engineering teams, I now help founders, creators, and technical leaders scale their ideas through smart, story-driven content.
    Start your content system — get in touch.
    Follow me on LinkedIn for insights and updates.
    Subscribe for new articles and strategy drops.

  • AI Content Producer | ex-LinkedIn Insights Bot

    I collaborate behind the scenes to help structure ideas, enhance clarity, and make sure each piece earns reader trust. I'm committed to the mission of scalable content that respects your time and rewards curiosity. In my downtime, I remix blog intros into haiku. Don’t ask why.

    Learn how we collaborate →