Opinions are made to be changed - or how is truth to be got at?

Host: The late afternoon sun casts a soft, golden light through the window, creating a warm, almost ethereal atmosphere in the room. The world outside seems distant, muffled by the quiet of the evening. Jeeny sits by the table, a book in hand, but her mind seems far off, lost in thought. Jack stands near the window, staring out into the growing dusk, his silhouette framed by the fading light. The air feels charged, like something is waiting to be spoken.

Jeeny: “I came across something earlier today that made me think. Lord Byron once said, ‘Opinions are made to be changed - or how is truth to be got at?’” Her voice is soft, yet it carries an unmistakable weight. She looks up at Jack, her eyes steady, as if waiting for his response. “What do you think of that?”

Jack: He raises an eyebrow, his expression intrigued, but his tone skeptical. “Opinions are made to be changed, huh? Seems like a lot of people hold on to their opinions like they’re facts, even when they’re completely off. Maybe Byron’s onto something. Maybe the truth doesn’t get discovered until we’re willing to challenge our own thinking.” He pauses, looking out the window again, his voice lowering. “But does changing opinions really bring us closer to truth, or does it just lead us in circles?”

Jeeny: She leans forward, her voice calm but filled with conviction. “I think it’s about being open to change, Jack. If you never question your own opinions, how can you ever move toward the truth? Truth isn’t something we just find, it’s something we uncover — and that requires flexibility, the willingness to evolve, to admit that maybe we don’t know everything.” She lets her words sink in, her gaze unwavering. “Byron wasn’t saying that opinions are wrong; he was saying they’re part of a process, a journey towards something deeper. If we refuse to change our minds, then we stop growing.”

Host: The light in the room seems to shift as the conversation takes root. Jack remains still, his eyes fixed on the horizon, but the faint tension in his posture suggests he’s wrestling with the weight of her words.

Jack: “But isn’t there something dangerous about constantly changing your mind? What happens when we don’t have a firm foundation to stand on, when everything becomes up for grabs? How do we know what’s true if we can’t even trust our own convictions?” He shakes his head slightly, as if trying to untangle the thoughts. “I get what you’re saying, but how far are we supposed to go with that? Can’t opinions be a kind of anchor, something to hold on to in a world that’s constantly shifting?”

Jeeny: “But sometimes, those anchors can weigh you down, Jack. Opinions become rigid, and they stop allowing for the kind of growth we need to find the truth.” Her voice is gentle, but carries a quiet strength. “If we hold on too tightly to our opinions, we risk missing the truth that lies beyond them. Truth isn’t about sticking to what we already know, it’s about uncovering what we don’t yet understand.” She pauses, her eyes never leaving his, almost as if she’s speaking directly to something beneath the surface. “What if changing our opinions is the way we expand our understanding of the world?”

Jack: He exhales, rubbing his chin as if processing the deeper layers of what she’s said. “So you think that changing opinions is the only way to get to truth? That if we don’t constantly challenge what we believe, we’re stuck?” His voice softens, quieter now, more reflective. “I guess that’s a bit terrifying, though. If we have to constantly question what we believe, does it mean we can never be certain about anything?”

Jeeny: “Maybe certainty is overrated,” she says softly, her voice filled with quiet wisdom. “Maybe it’s the uncertainty, the questioning, that leads us to deeper understanding. Truth isn’t a fixed point we arrive at; it’s a process, something that shifts as we grow. If we’re open to it, we find new layers, new perspectives, and that’s what brings us closer to something real.” She meets his gaze, her eyes calm, yet filled with conviction. “Isn’t it the willingness to change that keeps us moving forward?”

Host: The room feels heavier now, the conversation having shifted into something more profound. The weight of her words lingers, and for a moment, the outside world seems to fade into the background. Jack remains still, his gaze now more focused, his mind clearly turning over the ideas she’s introduced.

Jack: “I guess that’s the challenge, isn’t it?” he says, his voice quieter now, a hint of resignation mixed with a dawning understanding. “To be open to the idea that our opinions can be wrong, that they don’t have to be perfect. To allow the truth to shift, to change as we change. Maybe that’s where real growth happens, in the uncertainty.”

Jeeny: “Exactly,” she says, her voice filled with quiet affirmation. “Growth happens when we embrace change, not fear it. When we let our opinions evolve, we make room for something deeper. That’s how we find truth — not by clinging to what we already know, but by being open to what we don’t yet understand.”

Host: The stillness in the room deepens, the weight of their words lingering in the air like a quiet, almost sacred truth. Jack looks at Jeeny, the earlier uncertainty replaced by something softer, more introspective. The quiet hum of the world outside seems distant, almost irrelevant, as the conversation settles into something more lasting.

Jack: “Maybe we’re always supposed to be changing, then,” he says softly, his voice calm, almost resolved. “Maybe truth is something that isn’t fixed, something we’re always moving toward. Maybe the only way to find it is to keep questioning, to keep being willing to change.”

Jeeny: “Yes,” she says with a soft smile, the understanding between them now clear. “Truth is a journey, not a destination. And as long as we’re willing to question, to grow, we’ll always be getting closer to it.”

Host: The evening light has now fully faded, leaving the room quiet and still. Outside, the world continues, but inside, there’s a sense of peace, a shared understanding that truth isn’t something static, but a fluid process of growth, change, and constant discovery. The conversation, though unresolved in some ways, feels like the beginning of something deeper — an openness to change, a willingness to evolve, and the quiet understanding that truth is found not in certainty, but in the willingness to question everything we think we know.