Learn to lose an argument without losing yourself. And have ridiculous fun while doing it.
We bet on the room, not the mind.
The setup
Imagine being asked to make the strongest possible case for something you’d never argue for in real life — ban all chairs kind of territory.
The catch
A few minutes to build it. Someone asks the questions you didn’t see coming. Then you catch yourself mid-sentence, defending it a little too well.
The turn
Usually the premise is ridiculous. But sometimes it’s a hot take, and it hits a nerve.
The Why
You’ve won at least one argument in the shower. But the other person wasn’t there.
People are exhausted — not by disagreement itself, but by how bad we’ve all become at it. Somewhere along the way, having a thought turned into taking sides.
And outside the shower, we don’t get much practice. Every platform promises the same thing: likeminded. Friends like you, dates like you, a dinner table that already agrees with you. Great for a Friday, but terrible for the one skill that actually matters. No one builds for the difference that makes you wobble.
Hard conversations break because no one built the room for them — nothing to keep things steady when it gets hot, and no clean way out if you need one. There’s probably one topic you’ve stopped bringing up at a certain table. That’s not peace. That’s a broken room.
We treat that as a design problem, not a moral failure.
We blame the room, not the person.
So that’s what I’m building. Better rooms.
Like WD-40, but for your brain. Because rusty thoughts squeak.
There’s a longer version of all this.
READ THE MANIFESTO →What You Leave With
Three things worth naming.
Thing one
You’ll notice something about how you actually argue — usually mid-game, usually slightly embarrassing, often useful. (Probably while defending something you'd never pick.)
Thing two
Changing your mind starts to feel like a normal thing. Not a defeat — just a thing that happens.
Thing three
An opinion shouldn’t have to feel like an identity. Practice helps.
What To Expect
Three things you can count on, and the structure handles the rest.
THE SMALL PRINT, IN LARGE PRINT.
Sit it out
You can sit anything out. The room moves on. And no explanation needed.
No fixing
No one is here to fix you. We’re here to practice — not to diagnose, heal, or unpack your childhood traumas.
No sides
You’re not auditioning for a side. Mixed views, mixed everything. No team to join, and no argument to win.
Huh. Still here?
An Evening With In|Betweens
A small group. Different people.
Three rounds, and they get harder. The first one is about being wrong. The second, you argue a card drawn at random from the hat: usually absurd, sometimes a hot take, never your own view. By the third, the views in the room are real ones.
Strangers arguing for things they don’t believe, finding out they kind of do. Eventually, you end up somewhere between the absurd and the uncomfortable. The rest, you find out for yourself.
The What & When
Room 001 has a name:
One evening. Date lands when the room’s ready — not before.
Parts of the evening may get recorded — rounds one and two, while someone reads out a card or argues one drawn at random (usually absurd, sometimes a hot take, never your own view), plus a few shots of the room during the night. Your actual views stay off camera, and never leave the room with your name on them. More in the FAQ.
~10 PEOPLE ~ 2.5 HRS · AMSTERDAM · FREE
Exact time and place to follow.
Who’s Behind This
Built by Antonio. A loud Croatian in Amsterdam who’s trying to win listen better. No credentials — just someone who got quite interested in human behaviour, biases, and better ways to disagree and be wrong. A hobby that got out of hand, especially these days, when the world keeps trying to make everyone pick a team. Which is BS.
The honest reason this exists: underneath it all, we’re different, half-finished humans. Which is mostly fine. We’re not bad people, just a bit contradictory every now and then. But nothing is set in stone. Things change, and so do we.
In|Betweens is roughly 30% built. The other 70% is what these sessions are for. What works, stays. What doesn’t, gets fired. One evening for now, but many more to come.
I’m not here to transform anyone. I’m just here to point at something and see if it helps. The rest is on you.
Want in?
No newsletter. Just me, telling you when there’s a room.
If any of this landed, the door’s open.
The best case for not coming
There’s no date yet. If you need one to decide, wait for it.
There’s nothing to win. If winning is the fun part, this will feel like a game with no score.
At some point you’ll spend a few minutes defending something you think is nonsense, out loud, to people you just met.
It’s a first run, built by one person. Parts of it will be clunky.
FAQ
Will I be recorded?
Some parts, probably. Video might run in the first two rounds, while someone reads out or argues a card drawn from the hat. Beyond that, random photos and clips of the room, never with your name or opinions attached. The round with the real you, the one with actual opinions, never gets filmed. You can always sit out the filmed part. And before anything with you in it is posted, I’ll ask you first — no reply means no.
Is this about politics?
No. Topics come up — politics, religion, whatever — but they’re never the point. What’s off the table: the identity of anyone in the room, their traumas, or lived experience of marginalisation. Those aren’t debate topics here, they’re just people’s lives. Hot takes will still come up, some of them mine. The point is how you argue, not what you argue about.
Am I right for this?
Probably. The structure does the heavy lifting. Loud, quiet, debater, non-debater — the format works regardless. But it isn’t for everyone: anyone coming to win or convert will leave empty-handed.
What if I don’t want to be part of something?
Sit anything out, anytime, no explanation needed. Don’t want to be on camera? Fine. Nobody will make it a thing. And before any video or photo of you goes online, I ask you first. Silence counts as no. Cards carry no names, so what’s written on them may end up online, never tied to you.
What about privacy?
Your name meets your real view exactly once: on one card, in the room, never on camera, never online. Everything else that ends up written on a card is anonymous. One person takes notes on what the room does, not who said what. What’s said in the room stays in the room, for everyone in it, phones included. The only exceptions are the filmed card rounds and general shots of the room, and even then, nothing’s tied to what you actually believe.
How many sessions?
One room, one evening, see what happens. And many more to come.
Why is it free?
Pilot 1. I’m learning, and you’re helping. That’s the trade. Also: friction doesn’t sell. Yet. A couple of weeks after the session I’ll message you one question. Nothing to prepare. Not a satisfaction form — just an actual question.