We have all been there. You are in a comment section or a group chat. Someone says something that isn’t just wrong—it’s fundamentally confused.

Maybe they think an AI chatbot is a conscious person because it said “I’m sad.”

Maybe they think they understand war because they play Call of Duty.

Maybe they think running a business is easy because they managed a guild in World of Warcraft.

You type out a reply. You explain the facts. They reply back, digging in deeper. You reply again. Three hours later, you are exhausted, angry, and you have convinced absolutely no one.

Why does this happen?

It’s not because you aren’t smart enough. It’s not because they are stubborn.

It’s because you made a mistake the moment you hit “Reply.” You thought you were having a debate. But you were actually negotiating reality.

The Price of Being Wrong

To understand why these arguments fail, you have to understand one simple concept: The Price of Entry.

In the real world, true understanding comes from risk.

• If a pilot makes a mistake, the plane crashes.
• If a business owner makes a mistake, they lose their home.
• If a parent makes a mistake, their child suffers.

This is called a Formation Cost. It is the price you pay for being wrong. This risk is what shapes us. It forces us to be careful, to be humble, and to respect reality. It “forms” us into experts.

The Simulation Trap

The problem with the internet is that it is full of people who want the status of expertise without the cost.

The person arguing that AI is “alive” hasn’t spent years studying neuroscience or computer architecture. They have no “skin in the game.” If they are wrong, nothing happens. No one dies. No money is lost. They just close the browser tab.

They are playing a video game. You are flying a plane.

When you argue with them, you are trying to use Pilot Logic to convince someone using Gamer Logic.

• You say: “This is dangerous because if X happens, people get hurt.” (Reality)
• They say: “But if we just reprogram the code, X won’t happen!” (Simulation)

You aren’t debating facts. You are debating consequences. You live in a world where consequences hurt. They live in a world where you can just hit “Restart.”

You cannot negotiate reality with someone who pays no price for being wrong.

The Solution: The “Truth Marker”

So, what should you do? Let them be wrong?

Yes and no. If you stay silent, it looks like you agree. But if you argue, you validate their fantasy.

The solution is the Third Way. It borrows wisdom from the oldest, smartest communities on the internet—like open-source coders and fanfiction archivists—who learned long ago how to survive the noise.

Here is the protocol:

1. Lurk and Assess (The Reality Check)

Before you type, ask one question: “Has this person paid any price for their opinion?”

If they are wrong, will they suffer? If the answer is No, stop. You are not talking to a peer. You are talking to a tourist. Do not engage deeply. You cannot explain turbulence to someone in a flight simulator.

2. Talk to the Room, Not the Person

Realize that for every one person commenting, there are 100 people silently reading. They are your real audience. They are the ones trying to figure out what is true.

3. Place Your “Truth Marker”

Write one clear comment. State the reality. Keep it short.

Old-school hacker communities (like OpenBSD) have a rule: Trim the Noise. Don’t write a wall of text. Don’t quote their whole argument back to them. Just state the boundary.

• “You can’t program ‘pain’ into a computer. Without a body that can die, an AI is just doing math. It doesn’t care if it’s right or wrong. We do.”

4. The “Opt-Out” (Drop the Mic)

This is the hardest part. Do not reply to their response.

Fanfiction communities (AO3) live by the motto: “Don’t like? Don’t read.” It’s a boundary. Once you have placed your marker, you scroll past.

• When you reply back and forth, you make it look like a tennis match—two equals battling it out.
• When you say one true thing and walk away, you make it look like a Lesson.

Warning: Don’t Become the Simulation

There is one danger to this method. If you always place markers and never listen, you might start believing you are always right. You risk building your own “Echo Chamber”—a simulation where your ideas are never challenged.

To avoid this, use a Self-Check:

• Ask yourself: “If I am wrong here, what do I lose?”
• If the answer is “nothing,” be careful. You might be drifting into Gamer Logic yourself.
• The Fix: Occasionally invite someone you disagree with to challenge you—but do it on your terms, in a space where you are listening, not fighting.

The Takeaway

Stop trying to invite people into reality who haven’t paid the entry fee.

State the truth. Set the boundary. Save your energy for the people who are actually flying the plane.