Here at Argument Clinic, we are great fans of pointless surrealism. But we do not venerate it, nor do we mistake it for a learning experience.
Is this the right room for an argument
Sadly, some elements of the atheo-skeptical community have adopted debating as a blood-sport, mistaking a form of entertainment for a means of convincing people. In order to understand this, we need to review a bit of history: in the early oughts, there were several atheist/skeptics that stood forth prominently and were recognized as spokesmen. These men were not simply well-educated in the sciences, they had some skills at rhetorical pugilism – and they were willing to use those skills to poke holes in religion. It’s all good fun; after all, watching Steven Fry and Christopher Hitchens reveal a group of churchmen and ultra-conservative parlimentarians as fools is far more exciting than pulling the wings off of flies. There were, naturally, debaters on both sides – so you could watch the wretchedly pseudo-intellectual William Lane Craig say the same things he always says (now that’s a thrill!) or see Ken Ham assert once again that, yes, he really believes that stuff. In the early excitement of seeing atheism pound on the faithful, many atheists and skeptics appear to have forgotten that debates don’t teach, reach, or inform – they’re just a battlefield for rhetorical strategies. But the habit was formed: it became fashionable to challenge one’s opponent to a debate, like some kind of intellectual cage-match.
The difference is that a cage-match actually might decide something (who is the best at controlled violence) whereas the debate does not; debate allows us to see who is better at rhetoric and debating, it doesn’t help us get at the underlying truth of anything, really. Suppose one of you wished to debate the staff here at Argument Clinic, regarding a particular point of technique – even if you triumphed (as you well might) it doesn’t show that you’re right or wrong – it just shows whether or not you are a better debater. We recognize that within our very own commentariat ™ we have high-level verbal pugilists; we would be hesitant to debate them under any circumstances even if we knew we had truth on our side.
Ken White (popehat) once did an article about speaking to the FBI and being one’s own attorney [pope] and it contained some profound words of wisdom that rocked our crooked little world:
This is not a casual conversation about who took a bite out of the roll of cookie dough in the fridge. This is serious complicated stuff, and your whole life hangs in the balance. Platitudes aside, going into a law enforcement interview armed only with the attitude “I’ll just tell the truth” is poor strategy.
Here’s why.
No offense, but you may be a sociopath. If the FBI wants to interview you, it’s possible you’re some kind of Big Deal — a politician or a general or a mover and shaker of some description. If you’re kind of a big deal, there’s a significant possibility you’re a sociopath. You really don’t know how to tell the truth, except by coincidence. You understand what people mean when they say “tell the truth” but to you it’s like someone saying you should smile during the interview. Really? Well, I’ll try, I guess, if I remember. You’ve gotten to be a big deal by doing whatever is necessary and rather routinely lying. It may be difficult for you to focus and remember when you are lying because lying feels the same as telling the truth.
White could just as well be explaining why some people want to debate: they realize (consciously or otherwise) that they can browbeat an opponent and score points against them that are irrelevant to truth – or, they want to be in the audience while someone gets such a verbal ass-kicking. Wishing to see a bloody-knuckled debate ought to be a warning sign that there may be something wrong with your philosophical education. If you watch a heavyweight boxing match, there is one truth that may emerge: who is the better boxer. If you watch a debate about a matter of philosophy, the only truth that can emerge is: who is a better debater.
Now we come to “The Tedious Part of The Piece Wherein We Offer Advice”: If you think that a debate is a good way of getting your point across, you may be a sociopath, because you almost certainly cannot be a lover of the truth.
Here is how lovers of the truth debate: they marshal facts to support their opinions, and hold the whole mass together with ropy layers of analysis. Most importantly: they attempt to communicate clearly, and they are not afraid to expose their analysis and ideas to the test of time.
If you are familiar with the “Gish Gallop” – [wik] that is the antithesis of an honest attempt to clearly communicate analysis and fact. It is, in fact, an attempt to obscure fact; which is a technique that often serves a debater but never serves a scientist, or a skeptic. Let us be more clear: if you are saying “you should debate so-and-so” you are saying, in effect, that people’s mere opinions may hold sway over matters of fact, and you are comfortable encouraging scenes in which that can happen. When a skeptic says this, your first response should be something like:
Skeptic on Youtube comments: PZ Myers should debate Jordan Peterson!
Argument Clinician: Ah, so you’re not concerned with truth, you’re just interested in watching some people exchange bruises?
Skeptic on Youtube comments: What do you mean!? If PZ knows what he’s talking about, he’ll destroy Peterson!
Argument Clinician: No, because such a debate is not a serious exchange of ideas, it’s showmanship. You’d learn as much if PZ challenged Jordan Peterson to a hot-dog eating contest; what you’re learning in such a debate has nothing to do with the merits of the ideas and everything to do with the rhetorical skills of the proponents. You don’t appear to be interested in honest skepticism, you’re acting like one of those ‘political correctness’ goons who believes that truth is subject to the pressure of opinion.
Another way of approaching the “you ought to debate someone” meme is this:
Skeptic on Youtube comments: You ‘Argument Clinic’ snotheads ought to debate Jordan Peterson. He’s more “meta-” than you and he’d demolish you.
Argument Clinician: He’s not a serious debater. If he were a serious debater, he’d seek an exchange of ideas in a reviewable forum – one where his ideas have to stand the test of time and independent analysis. He is, in fact, probably afraid of that, since the lectures of his that I have seen seem to be a rapid assertion of a lot of labels and umbrella-concepts that he leaves undefined. It’s pretty clear that he’s doing a pseudo-intellectual’s “Gish Gallop” – why would we wish to subject ourselves to that? That’s like being invited to clean someone else’s stable – I’ll just get sweaty and dirty and in the end, it’s still going to be a stable.
Further, you can point out how the Serious People do it. They seldom bother debating: they write a book. James Baldwin famously debated William F. Buckley Jr, but he wrote his argument in book form, first. He could have walked up to the podium and asked Buckley, “did you read my book? No? Very well, then I shall have to give you a synopsis.” When Bruce Schneier debated Sam Harris, Bruce did his research and realized that Harris was fond of claiming to be taken out of context, so Bruce agreed to do it only if Harris’ views would be recorded in Harris’ own words, for outside analysis. The end result speaks for itself – Harris comes off very badly, because as he begins to write down his thoughts, it becomes apparent that they are thin, indefensible, and uninformed. [schn] Harris has no opportunity to say he is being taken out of context, or to try to cherry-pick his facts, because it’s all there in black and white. Bruce is a gentleman, too, and has refrained from referring back again and again to Harris’ arguments, picking them apart with tweezers – he already won because he has awkward facts on his side. Another Serious Person who does not “debate” is Noam Chomsky. Chomsky will, also, engage in public back-and-forth exchanges, where he presents his best argument, and his ‘opponent’ does likewise. Chomsky’s pretty good at the rhetoric, too, but well enough that he knows those tricks and does not wish to subject himself to them. Glutton for punishment Sam Harris ‘debated’ Noam Chomsky, as well, which was a fascinating performance – Chomsky kept consistently saying the same things he has been saying since Sam Harris was a child, and Sam Harris thrashes around making a lot of noise and trying to score rhetorical points that might have worked in a live debate but look obvious when written down. [har]
We suppose we could offer Sam Harris as an example of why nobody should wish to debate a serious topic, but Harris probably thinks (as Ken White says) that he’s kicking his opponents’ asses. He just doesn’t understand why people keep taking him out of context and laughing at him.
Let us put this to you from a final angle: imagine you were invited to debate with Christopher Hitchens. We used to enjoy watching Hitchens debate, but – would you willingly subject yourself to the interruptions, the glibness, the digressions?
How does debating get at some deeper truth? It’s an inefficient way to convince anyone of anything.
“… they are not afraid to expose their analysis and ideas to the test of time.” – We added that bit specifically as a forward-hook in case we needed to discuss William Lane Craig or Dinesh D’Souza – two characters who use the same arguments over and over in spite of the fact that they have been adequately refuted years ago. That’s not intellectual honesty, that’s trying to carry one’s point through vigorous repetition, i.e.: it’s propaganda. If you are ever challenged by either of those characters, you should reply that you’ll be happy to discuss your opposing views with them, in writing, but not if they intend to simply present the same refuted arguments they have been relying on for the last decade. Scientists learn and update their views and hone their arguments, they don’t just keep referencing the Kalam Cosmological Argument, which has been taken to pieces over and over again since the 11th century. The analogy we gave earlier, to cleaning a stable, is apt: no matter how often you clean a stable, if it’s got horses in it, there’s more shit to clean up.
Hell, I generally don’t even like watching videos. Give me written text.
robertbaden@#1:
Hell, I generally don’t even like watching videos. Give me written text.
I’m with you. There was a time when I’d watch Christopher Hitchens debates and go back and forth and take exhaustive notes and deconstruct what he was saying. That was, unfortunately, how I lost respect for him: I came to see him as a sad character who was more concerned with being seen as right, and who was flippant and glib, not the serious thinker he was held up to be.
Oh, here’s a snark-attack that I’ve seen used as a response to a debate challenge:
“Why should we go out of our way to both look like fools?”
It would be bad enough were this culture of grandstanding public debate limited to the semi-popular fringes of academia. At least then the stakes would be so low as to make it pretty much irrelevant.
The problem is that it has become embedded in electoral and legal systems. Although we now have significant procedural rules to help mitigate it, election campaigns and jury trials are still focused on an adversarial debate, and decided by whoever most of the audience believes. As if the truth of a matter was as much about rhetoric as evidence.
Which seems rather odd, really, given that we’ve known about this problem for two and a half thousand years. Aristophanes’ Clouds lampoons the modern 5th century fondness for rhetoric and learning oratorical skills by having the main character – Strepsiades – enrol his son in Socrates’ new school in order that he learn to speak well and hence argue his way out of all his gambling debts. Socrates introduces him to personifications of “stronger argument” and “weaker argument”, fighting and bickering with each other, and it becomes apparent that when brought out into the light it is very difficult for the public to tell which is which. In Athens, of course, legal trials were conducted in front of 500-strong juries and guilt decided by majority vote. There were no professional judges – the people decided after both sides had spoken in prosecution or defense. But the problem is still a relevant one today, particularly in the court of public opinion presided over by the media.
One might even agree, with Aristophanes, that using rhetorical tricks to give an argument more or less force than it could command by logic and evidence alone is a fundamentally immoral act.
Several years ago, I saw Hitchens & D’Souza “debate” at the University of Florida as part of a multi-campus tour they did together.
Not once did either of them refer to anything said in previous stops along their route, or show any other sign of mental engagement with each other or the ideas under discussion, except as reading from their respective scripts. CH got in a few zingers, DD’S a few Quotes From Authority, and both fielded a few questions from the audience with reasonable skill, but I left with the strong impression that each participated only as an exercise in $how Bu$ine$$.
Unfortunately, yes. The debate format itself is a problem. You cannot explain and prove complicated arguments in a few minute speeches. Nor can you provide references to scientific research and studies that are supposed to back up your arguments. That being said, theoretically a debate that allows people to learn from it is actually possible. It requires: 1) debaters on both sides intentionally abstain from using logical fallacies and rhetorical tricks and agree to stick to the topic at hand; 2) the debate topic is something that does not require talking about facts (those cannot be fact-checked in the middle of a debate) and does not require giving any references to scientific research. You can talk about principles (for example, freedom, equality), which does not require getting into details, and you should stay away from anything that requires fact-checking and referencing.
By the way, when you are the speaker, you learn a lot by debating (prepare your speeches, learn about the opposing position, prepare rebuttals for anticipated arguments).
Here my attitude is the exact opposite. If I believe that I have truth on my side and I can think of good arguments, I’m perfectly happy to participate in debates. It’s not like I perceive myself as such an amazing debater that I will never lose. I’m well aware that there are other better debaters out there in the world. It’s just that I’m no longer afraid of losing a debate. I have already managed to embarrass myself in debates often enough (and once, in one of my first debates, it was so bad that I actually wanted to crawl under a table and hide; my debate teacher sure knew how to humiliate newcomers and I got a hell of a beating from him). Sure, it’s very unpleasant, but I know I can survive that. Overall, debating is fun (most of the time). If shit happens and I lose, oh well, so it goes. I’ll survive. But I have this attitude only because I participate in debates for the sake of having fun. If I had to care about my reputation, I wouldn’t be so willing to debate.
I enjoy watching debates. Just like other people enjoy watching movies or stand-up comedy shows, I enjoy watching debates. And it’s not like I’m expecting to further my education or learn some truths by watching debates. It’s just fun. Of course, this is true only when debaters on both sides are good speakers and stick to the topic without resorting to logical fallacies and rhetorical tricks. Majority of debates I have seen in my life were total crap and boring to watch. But the good ones, well, some people are really amazing at this and can make fantastic performances.
A lot depends on the topic too. I don’t watch Christian vs. atheist debates, because those are pointless. For the scientific community it’s already pretty damn clear what the truth about God’s existence is, therefore any further debates about the topic are pointless. Debating makes sense only about topics where there is no clear scientific truth. For example, I once watched a rather entertaining debate about this topic: “This house regrets the strong social norms in favor of lifelong monogamy.”
This problem is always present everywhere. Human communication happens with words, therefore rhetorical skills matter everywhere. If you are reading a book or watching some professor’s lecture in the university, their rhetorical skills (or writing skills) are going to be an important factor in determining whether the author succeeds in convincing you.
Unfortunately, yes. I’m not aware of ever succeeding in convincing somebody during a debate. Everybody comes to watch a debate with their preexisting opinions and they go home after a debate with the same opinions they never even considered changing. Being very reluctant to change one’s opinions seems to be part of human nature. How do you convince people? It seems for me like it takes time. A well written book or a university course might do the trick. A short debate or a blog article probably won’t work, though.
I still have my reasons for participating in debates (and watching them):
1. It helps me learn about other people and the world I live in. I’m interested in finding out what opinions other people have and why they have them. When other people disagree with me, I want to know what they are thinking and why.
2. It lets me test my own opinions. In a debate somebody will be trying to refute my arguments and prove me wrong. This forces me to carefully consider what I believe. (I actually have changed some of my opinions after realizing that I cannot logically defend them.)
3. It is fun and exciting. I perceive arguing as a sport, as a form of intellectual exercise. For me it’s just more fun than playing chess or various other games.
@#1
When the debaters happen to be bad orators, then, yes, a written text is nice to have. But I also know plenty of debaters who are so amazing that I could listen to them for hours. I can appreciate good speaking skills. Besides, that’s a form of art too.
@#4
You should be glad that you have never seen political debates in Latvia. Here they are so awfully pathetic. UK politicians tend to be better than what we have here.
Anyway, what other alternatives are there really? Firstly, for many political decisions there is no scientific “truth.” Instead, it’s a matter of how humans choose to live and organize their societies. Secondly, we all know damn well that political debates are staged just for the show. Politicians don’t give a fuck about what the voters want. Decisions are made by the oligarchs. Debates are simply staged so that voters have something to watch.
Yes, of course it’s easy to manipulate the public opinion. What can be possibly done about it? I see no other options. Stripping the public of their right to make decisions and letting some experts decide instead isn’t any better.
I think that rhetoric, properly applied, can emphasize truth, or present truth in a more understandable way, or in a better light. Some examples that I’ve been thinking about:
“There is no evidence that the Exodus narrative has any basis in history” ⇐ True, but weak.
“The Middle East, including Egypt, Sinai, and the rest of the Levantine region that includes modern Israel, Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria, have all been extensively explored and their archaeological records have been dug up, sifted through, and documented and cross-referenced. No record of the Israelites ever having been in Egypt has been found when we would expect there to be, nor any period of disaster in Egypt that would correspond to the supposed plagues, nor any remnant of mass graves or animal middens in the Sinai that would correspond to the stories in the bible. The lack of expected archaeological evidence contradicts the Exodus narrative.” ⇐ Provides a clearer picture of what is known about the time and place the claims are being made about
Ieva Skrebele above:
I can read a shitload faster than I can listen (even when I crank it up to 1.5x), and I can easily random-access text content — not to mention Ctrl-F for bits. And I can skim without missing content. So, for actual information that doesn’t require images, text is far superior for me.
Why then would I settle for the lesser medium, given the choice? :)
—
OP:
On a topic with which I am familiar, sure. Interruptions, glibness, and digressions are no biggie — it was his erudition which made him a tough debater IMO. I doubt I’d fare well, but it would be fun.