First, agree that it happened

In many families there is a conversation that keeps happening without ever moving. An older father still drives himself to the mosque, to the market, to his brother's house across Jeddah. His children have noticed the scrape on the bumper, the missed turn, the way he leans towards the windscreen at dusk.

Every attempt to talk about it turns into an argument about whether anything is wrong. The scrape was another car's fault. The turn was a new road. Dusk is hard for everyone. The family never reaches the part of the conversation that could help, because it keeps being pulled back to the start.

There is a useful conversation to be had about what to do. A different time of day. A shorter route. An eye test, then perhaps glasses. A grandson who likes driving. But none of that can begin until everyone accepts what has already happened. The facts are not the argument. They are the floor every sensible plan has to stand on.

It is worth asking why the denial holds. Usually it is not stupidity. Admitting the facts seems to lead straight to an outcome nobody has offered an alternative to: losing the keys, and the independence that comes with them. When people have no better plan, delay becomes the plan. Arguing about the facts buys time.

It buys nothing else. The bumper keeps collecting scrapes. The plan, when it finally comes, comes after something worse than a scrape.

The same shape turns up in shops, neighbourhoods and whole countries. Arguing over whether something happened feels like caution. It is only waiting. Knowing is uncomfortable, and it is still better than not knowing, because it is the only place a plan can start.