Listening to Another Side
by Mark Gutman
One of my Seminary classes dealt with the theology of a large Christian denomination. We were regularly assigned to read chapters in a book by a writer of that denomination. Our professor would then spend a day or two explaining one of that denomination’s teachings (which we’d just read about) in a way that made it sound quite logical and reasonable. Then he’d turn around and show why we disagreed with them on that point. But he told us that the earlier part of some of his presentations would occasionally lead a student to worry, “Are they right on this point?” I was intrigued as I saw doctrines that I had always understood to be unbiblical presented in a way that made them seem logical. I could actually understand how or why someone might believe such a teaching.
Contrast my teacher’s presentations with those of “progressive” or right-wing radio stations. If there’s good about the other side, don’t expect to hear it from those stations. They “take no prisoners.” The logic, the motives, and the integrity of people with a differing point of view are all skewered mercilessly. Being gracious to the other side is out-of-bounds.
Karen Armstrong describes the situation for many: “All too often people impose their own experience and beliefs on acquaintances and events, making hurtful, inaccurate, and dismissive snap judgments, not only about individuals but about whole cultures. It often becomes clear, when questioned more closely, that their actual knowledge of the topic under discussion could comfortably be contained on a small postcard” (Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life, page 117).
Are you more like my professor or a political radio station? How easy is it for you to disagree without being disagreeable? To hold your convictions firmly, but respect the honesty and intelligence of those who hold different convictions? Do you view being willing to allow other beliefs and different views as too compromising and dangerous?
In Blind Spots: Why Smart People Do Dumb Things, Madeleine Van Hecke relates that she assigns students to write a “poles-apart” paper. For the paper they are “to investigate a way of life, an attitude, or a set of beliefs that is poles apart from their own.” So, “a public school teacher discussed home schooling, a born-again Christian explored Scientology, . . . [and] a staunch supporter of President George W. Bush’s decision to wage war on Iraq considered the opposing views of Quakers” (page 123).
The first time Van Hecke assigned the paper, she was shocked at the resistance of the students. She knew that the assignment was different from the usual evaluations or critiques: “(t)he primary goal of learning about the opposite pole was not to evaluate it in an analytical way, but to try to grasp how it was possible to see the world so differently; . . . the aim of the paper was not to create a debate that one or the other side could ostensibly win, but to search for ways to understand how someone very different from oneself views the world” (pages 123,124).
Apparently the students were recognizing risk in warming up to “the other side” in any way. “If we actually succeed in understanding how someone else could believe, think, live in ways that are deplorable or offensive to us, what will that do to the values that led us to pass judgment on these opposite poles in the first place? If their perspective actually makes us realize that we have been somewhat off in how we have seen the world, what else will that realization call into question?” The students “had the intuition that the more clearly they were able to grasp the pole apart, the more difficult it might be for them to judge that perspective as wrong” (page 124).
As Adventists, many of us understand that our set of beliefs is closer to reality and ideal than the set of any other religion or denomination. As Adventist Today readers, many of us feel that our perspective is more informed or less naïve or “infected” or compromised or (you fill in the blank). So why risk learning about others’ error-filled or dangerous views? I’ve heard the situation compared to the work of a Secret Service agent whose job is to detect counterfeit currency. The agent does not need to study the counterfeit; learning the genuine currency will show up the counterfeit automatically. So if we know what’s right, we don’t need to study what’s wrong. Why take the risk? Why lose the ability to call sin by its right name?
In Faitheist: How an Atheist Found Common Ground with the Religious, Chris Stedman relates his experience in becoming an atheist and eagerly collecting all the bad stories about religion that he could find. He sought out any opportunity to point to religion and say,” ‘See! Look how bad it is.’ When you’re looking for garbage, you’ll find it. It became easy to notice the flaws and miss the merits” (page 84). But as he worked side-by-side with those not-so-smart religious people in various projects he couldn’t help but realize their good side and that their religious motivations were motivating them to be helpful to humanity.
Ellen White’s quote gets dragged out to defend all kinds of odd (or unique) views, but probably most of us have read or heard many times that “[w]e have many lessons to learn, and many, many to unlearn. . . Those who think that they will never have to give up a cherished view, never have occasion to change an opinion, will be disappointed” (Testimonies to Ministers, page 30). But sometimes we act as if we’re going to disprove that statement, or at least not have it apply to us in the future. Now that we know so much, why waste time on the inferior beliefs of others?
I submit that it’s worth it to be willing to listen to differing viewpoints. Whether from reading or from associating with others, we can gain in more ways than one. As Stedman discovered, people whose beliefs were quite different from his atheism were more inclined to listen to him when they found that he was willing to show an interest in them. He sheepishly relates the story of attending a birthday party for Alex, his cousin, who ran up to him and asked if the birthday ice cream was good? “Without pausing, I said matter-of-factly: ‘It isn’t ice cream, Alex. It is sherbet.’ . . . “In my youth, being ‘right’ held ultimacy. I valued precision and accuracy, and was sure to correct anyone I felt was ‘wrong.’ I thought I was doing people a favor by correcting them. Now, I strive to lead with listening instead of lecturing” (page 180).
Smugly explaining that we know nothing about someone else’s viewpoint and making it plain that we have no interest in learning about it closes doors in more ways than one. Like Alex, we may discover that we’ll end up getting our ideas across better as we listen to others. We may communicate our thoughts better because we understand more about our audience. They may be poles-apart from us, and maybe there’s no way we’ll ever see things the way they do. But if we show them the respect of listening to them as human beings, we may be surprised at what we learn.
In discussing religion it is important to remember that we are not discussing facts, but opinions. Respect for other's religion is a wonderful learning opportunity to become familiar with the various beliefs; particularly, if most of your life's experiences so far have been withint one denomination and receiving all education through that same denomination.
Openness to many beliefs is a chance to evaluate them along with your own. The difficulty that some of us have is when believers insist on maintaining they are not beliefs, but facts. This attitude destroys effective communication just as someone who refuses to participate in therapy because they have no problems. It's called denial, a disease of certitude often found in religions.
Mark,
Thank you for reminding us of not only the benefit, but the value we can receive by studying and understanding the why behind contrasting points of view. There is much for us to learn from such experiences. I wish more people would do that with every point of their set of beliefs about God and their faith experience with Him. Doing that was difficult but most beneficial. I grew beyond any measure I could have imagined and continue to grow from it. Testing our faith by questioning the basis for our beliefs is not a denial of our faith, but a recalibration with the potential to make it far stronger. Failing to do it often leaves us unable to stand in the gentle breezes of disagreement when we must be prepared for far more difficult winds of testing in the future.
Listening to 'the other side?' Seems benign enough an idea. And very nicely, thoughtfully, even compassionately, described by Mark. But I wonder if a flaw in the argument exists in its premise. There can only be an 'other side' if one considers one's self to be on the opposite side. The idea of separateness cannot be escaped. Of course, 'Come out from among them and be ye separate' rings loudly at this point. But this is immediately countered with, 'all are one in CHrist Jesus.'
S D Adventism originated in a society where religious thinking predominated. Debates about who was right and who wrong seemed so natural. And biblical 'proof' for one's ideas simply relied on assembling enough relevant or even irrelevant texts. The tide has utterly turned. It is now possible for some in a separatist, proven-correct (Truth-filled) religious organisation to dare to suggest that the old mentality has had its day. Brave pioneering, Mark. May the corollary soon follow.
This is one of the best blogs I have seen for AT that is relevant to our discussions. If we could just practice it. All of our opinions and even religious direction that we choose are based on experiences and background (good and bad) more than knowledge or study. What we choose to study is determined by our subjectivism. It is a rare individual that can acknowledge and analyze his or her own subjectivity and be open to change, even when it is for our best good.
Mark really, really good. I especially identify with that last few words:
'I valued precision and accuracy, and was sure to correct anyone I felt was ‘wrong.’ I thought I was doing people a favor by correcting them. Now, I strive to lead with listening instead of lecturing”'
As an Adventist 'growing up with the Truth,' I used to think it was my Christian duty to correct people about the errors of their ways. As you rightly point out, it isn't just conservative-right-wing people who can be dogmatic. There are plenty of 'progressives' who seem intent on pointing out all the problems with say the Bible, in effect destroying people's faith, and all the while thinking they are doing everyone a great favour.
I grew up in the sort of family that loved JWs and Mormons turning up at the door. Given my parents had given us a pretty good religious education, we were pretty comfortable inviting JWs and Mormons into our lair and then smashing their faith to pieces. We always had the advantage because we knew a lot about their faith, and they usually knew nothing about ours.
Anyway, about 5 years ago two 50-something JW women turned up at my door and I invited them in. I easily brushed their usual spile aside and was about to go on my own counter-attack. And just then it occurred to me – what would be the point? Even if these women believed everything I had to say, if in my wildest dreams I causes them to have a crises of their faith, to what end? They could only look forward to expulsion from their own faith and shunning by their family and friends.
I did drop a few hints, to try and disuade them from their very proof-texting, fundamentalist faith. But I didn't go for the kill, as I used to do. In same ways, I think that different gentler style actually worked better. My point being, even when people have different views from you, one needs to take a 'progressive revelation' approach, as God has used with humanity. Bible (or anti-Bible) bashing rarely works.
All in all, a fine, thought-provoking article, Mark. I like your conclusions. But your route for getting there has a few stumbling blocks. You seem to assume that understanding something or someone is likely to make us more tolerant and accepting. You also seem to assume that the reason people reject "new" ideas or unfamiliar practices is because they don't have enough information or exposure to those ideas and practices. Are you suggesting that the vigor with which one attacks or opposes an idea is inversely proportionate to his knowledge and understanding of that idea or its adherents? If so, I would beg to differ.
It is wonderful to have professors or news commentators who actually present both or multiple sides of an issue. But it is not all that common any more. The other day I was lecturing a group of senior medical students on medical errors and disclosure. In their reading materials, I included both a report from the Institute of Medicine – To Err is Human – and published criticisms of the methods and conclusions of that report, some of which were offered by the authors of the studies on which the IOM relied for its conclusions and recommendations. Just about all of the students had already read the IOM report in their preventive medicine class, and they commented that my lecture, along with the methodological criticisms contained in the assigned reading materials, was a real eye-opener. The professor in the students' preventive medicine class had treated the reformist conclusions of the IOM report, formulated by policy wonks, as incontrovertible predicates for developing action plans to reform health care (quite similar to IPCC reports). There was no discussion of the possibility that the "consensus of 'experts'" was wrong or based on questionable methodology. Fallacy-ridden conclusions, based on selective data mining and faulty analysis, had led the students to assume that medical malpractice, and concealment of the consequences of medical error, were ingrained in the culture of health care. They were extremely grateful to see that the issues weren't as black and white as they had been led to believe.
I don't really see how understanding others will, or should, make us more accepting of them, or less likely to pass judgment on their ideas and behaviors. Understanding the ideological and psychological underpinnings of certain beliefs and behaviors would, I should think, often make us less tolerant of them. How many times on this web site have you seen highly educated commenters condescendingly presume to understand what makes their opponents tick, and proceed to imply that those who strongly disagree with them are narrow-minded, uninformed, and even lacking in moral sensitivity? Understanding is always, to one degree or another misunderstanding. And in today's higher education environment, opening minds to new ideas (especially in the humanities and soft sciences) usually entails a one-sided presentation of ideas and facts which will advance the regnant religion of secularism, and delegitimize views or values rooted in a Christian world view.
It is not so much understanding, as it is knowledge and experience, that we need more of. Whether that will lead one to be more accepting of new ideas all depends on what the idea is. It may actually make one more closed to "new" ideas that can, with the benefit of history and experience, immediately be seen as dangerous rubbish. All ideas are not created equal. Highly educated people, in my experience, have a Pavlovian tendency to accuse those who strongly disagree with them of being afraid of exposing themselves to "dangerous" or "new" ideas, most of which are certainly not new, and are not dangerous except in the hands of those with political power. Just because someone strongly disagrees with you doesn't mean he is closed to information or ideas which challenges his opinions.
I think the Bible teaches us that we should love and accept other people, regardless of what they believe or do, and regardless of whether we understand their values or beliefs. But it does not give much encouragement to those who think that the way to demonstrate intelligence, tolerance, and openness to different ideas is to go and listen to what the Serpent has to say, and to keep an open mind toward the merits of his position. Trust, obey, and courageously speak the truth seems to be the more prevalent message of scripture.
Thank you for the input, Nathan. It gives me something to think about, and also helps me realize that I didn't cover all the bases I thought I did. I am not advocating looking into other views with the high expectation of having a major shift in my own views. I had more in mind the idea of seeing the honesty and humanity of someone who appears to me to be hopelessly wrong on a view (I'll refer to John Doe), even if I am 99.99% sure that I will never see things the way John does. There are reasons John views things differently. If I had his genes, family upbringing, and circumstances, I would probably believe the way he does and want people to treat me as a decent human being. If I (as John) get the feeling that Mark or Nate doesn't respect me, I will not be drawn toward Mark or Nate or their views.
Having one's views rejected often is equated with personal rejection, but I'm not advocating accepting John's views so that he'll feel accepted. In learning more about why John believes what he does, I may learn more about myself even as I learn about John. I may learn more about my own views even as I look into his. (I learned more about the English language as I studied French.) I may come away from my investigation even less likely to agree with John, but at least I want to be as open as I would like John to be. I am willing to accept him as an honest seeker, and I hope he sees me that way, even if he realizes that I will never come around to his perspective. Respect for a person allows closeness and learning that contempt can’t.
It's too bad we don't all have the wisdom and insight of Jesus, so that we could know the circumstances in which we should seek to understand and exercise forebearance, and the circumstances in which it is appropriate and necessary to call out, as "children of the devil" and "whitewashed sepulchres," those who would obscure and distort the truth.
I know you are correct that some people personalize opinions, so that to discredit their opinion feels to them as a personal attack. My response: "If you can't stand the heat…" When discussing opinions and moral issues on a website such as AToday, there is no particular reason to respect or disrespect the conversationalists with whom I engage. I am really only interested in the relative merits of the idea that is advanced. In fact, if you really want to irritate me, the best way is to try and explain my idea or way of thinking by my genes, my family upbringing, or my life circumstances. In fact, doing so is a logical fallacy. I readily acknowledge that environment and genes influence my values and behavior. But I vigorously reject the notion that the merits of my values and beliefs cannot stand apart from who I am as a person. They do and they should.
I think there are different environments for interactions and exchanges of ideas, and most healthy, intelligent people modulate their approaches accordingly. Once you realize and accept that a blog conversation is not personal; that neither you nor the person with whom you are dialoguing is a naive, honest seeker of truth – a tabula rasa, as it were: and that the goal of the interaction is not to build respect, trust, or closeness, then I think the attempt to achieve clarity and speak the truth can be ill-served by seeking closeness and respect, or treating intellectual rubbish with a kind of faux deference. But your advice is certainly excellent counsel for marriages, families, and other personal relationships built on trust and respect.
If I thought I could explain your way of thinking that differed from mine by your genes or whatever, I doubt if I would mention it (unless it was in a friendly conversation). Explaining that you see things a certain way because you are a ____ or you were taught by ____ can be used to explain why I see things the way I do. It doesn't deal with an idea on its merits. If I tell you that 2 + 2 = 5 (or some other goofy idea), you don't need to make reference to my ancestry or my elementary school to respectfully disagree. Your criticizing my teachers won’t show me what’s wrong with my math.
But if I think your scientific or religious ideas are rubbish, I still don't understand how I gain by refusing to treat you as an honest human being, as close to honest as most of us get. Even if I think you are uninformed, I presume a lot of biological and circumstantial shaping has gotten you to where you are now, same as for me. Some ideas that I used to oppose I now espouse. Why not be kind to people who believe the way I used to, even as I point out the problems with such views? Adding venom or scorn doesn’t make my argument more convincing or compelling.
Jesus could read people in a way that I can’t. I’m aware of too many times when I learned something about someone that gave me sympathy that I hadn’t felt, even if I still felt that someone was mistaken. I’m all for pointing out differences – it’s why I’m writing this just now. But I don’t need to get personal to ask questions or challenge statements. I can firmly point out that certain ideas or ways of thinking have harmful consequences. But my harsh or condescending talk will certainly not win over the person I’m disagreeing with. And if it wins others, I’ll wonder whether they were won to my emotion or to my logic.
Okay Mark, good points. But let me ask you this: How do you respond if you think someone is truly being intellectually dishonest, intentionally distorting your position or the position of others in order to set up a straw man or advance an agenda? Would you not think it reasonable and necessary to register an indignant protest, and forcefully point out what that person is doing?
If we only conversed with folks that were honest seekers of truth, rather than smug knowers of truth, iconoclastic rhetoric would certainly be most inappropriate. In a courtroom, my intended audience is a "neutral" jury. I am not trying to change the mind of opposing counsel, nor is that a realistic hope. My target for persuasion is the undecided and relatively open-minded who might be swayed by what I believe to be seductive misrepresentations of the evidence by opposing counsel. That possibility is greatly increased if I treat his or her arguments with respect, or in any way concede that opposing counsel, like I, is simply searching for the truth. If in my handling of the evidence and argument to the jury I treat opposing counsel and his witnesses as "honest human beings," I am likely to suffer the same fate that Romney suffered in the last election. When honest seekers of truth perceive that the person advancing an argument is basically an honest, highly intelligent person of good-will, it makes it rather difficult for them to conclude, as they sometimes should, that the the argument being advanced is deliberately dishonest, and is based on false and misleading information.
Perhaps the best way to describe the somewhat nuanced differences between us on this topic, Mark, is to observe that your caveats are most important when you have a realistic hope of persuading your interlocutor of your position, or of moving the discussion, as I think we have done here, to a higher level of abstraction to see if we can find agreement. But where that is not a realistic hope, and the goal is to make sure other readers or listeners are not sucked in by wolves in sheep's clothing, I think different, more robust rhetoric is sometimes called for.
Nathan,
This is either a pretty weak case for occasional incivility on these boards, or a pretty strong case for occasional ad hominem argumentation; or maybe even both. In either case, I don’t buy it!
Whenever the interlocutor goes personal and/or goes on a character attack or critique of his/her counterpart/listener, it’s needy, sad and unbecoming; even, or especially, when I do it.
Stephen, I wholeheartedly concur with your condemnation of character denigration or personal judgments of the person making an argument, no matter how ridiculous the argument seems. I have not argued for incivility or ad hominem attacks. Perhaps you need to reread what I have said. Rather, I have contended for the legitimacy of lively exchanges and robust honesty such as you and I often engage in. Of course I realize that we live in the land of the easily offended, and what I take no offense at, may really hurt others. It is my experience that sensitive folks usually prefer to avoid disagreement altogether.
I must admit, Nathan, that I've never dealt with a jury or recently spent much time in the situations you describe, and I'm sure that some of my ivory tower advice would get modified if I ran into situations with more at stake than my relationship with a person. But do I need to be obviously angry to forcefully call the arguments of the attorney (or witness or professor or whoever) misleading or incorrect? Anger does motivate (and yes, I get angry), but if my brain gets too stirred up I'm less likely to make my argument effectively. When I hear someone speaking in anger, I notice his tone more than I notice his words. Perhaps a speaker can use an angry tone to grab attention, and then settle into a calmer (but still forceful) way of speaking.
If I know you well enough to believe you are deliberately dishonest, can't I just state that "I know you know better than that" or "I know you don't believe that" and back up my statement? I don't have to treat your arguments "with respect." I'll tackle them the best I can, even as I wonder what led you to this type of behavior. An undiagnosed brain disorder? You’re getting some reinforcement I don’t understand from your dissembling, and my goal is to keep others from being misled by it and to help nudge (or push) you back to a more reasonable position.
Mark,
I hope you didn’t misread my post as “reinforcement” of Nathan’s disagreement with you. For what it’s worth, I was stating that I disagreed with his position.
The content of your disagreement, Stephen, would suggest that you didn't listen to what I said. There is nothing in what I said that could lead a reasonable person to believe I am in favor of personal attacks or ad hominem arguments. Often times, when we see another person through emotional filters or stereotypes, we reflexively impose those filters and/or stereotypes on what they say, creating a straw man, and pejoratively imputing something to their argument that they neither said nor intended. It is therefore often helpful, before one puts the argument of another in a box of their own making to clarify whether the other person intended the inference you have drawn from his statement.
In regard to listening to the "other side," I believe that, whenever possible, one should try to get their opponent to speak as freely and openly as possible. If they are your opponent for good reason, they will, in due time, make your case for you (see Romney, Mitt re: "the 47%" remarks, or multiple postings, since removed from this site, on the Trayvon Martin case).
Not sure I follow your point here, Preston. Going off on a tangent to light a political match is probably precisely the type of thing that Mark is trying to discourage. As President Obama knows very well, statements made in what you think are private gatherings with like-minded people, where you don't know you are being recorded, can indeed expose insensitivity and come back to haunt you. Generally, such statements do not make a case for anyone but the already convinced. Usually they merely create opportunities for demagoguery, which, to those who engage in it, is sometimes mistaken for serious debate.
Perhaps Mark might want to add another caution: When a person has drive-by emotional baggage that he needs to tendentiously fire into a discussion, it probably does not bode well for good listening or mature discussion of ideas on their merit.
Vivid, emotional examples help to make a point that is intentional. When engaging with those with whom you disagree, it can be helpful to get them to be as comfortable as possible. When they feel safe in stating their position, you can hear both "the words and the music behind the words." They will, likely, reveal the feelings that infuse their position with such passion.
I do not believe that most people (educated folks, in particular) take positions based on facts or logic. People (self included) generally use facts to justify and decorate conclusions arrived at selfishly or emotionally.
"Vivid emotional examples help to make a point that is intentional."
Well I agree, Preston, with your observation that most people of superior intelligence and education, do not, at least not in today's highly politicized environment, take their ideological cues from facts or logic. But I cannot concur with the observation I highlighted above. In fact, vivd, emotional examples usually drown out one's point and become a distraction from reasoned conversation. As I have pointed out, they are usually associated with demagoguery rather than persuasion.
I remember studying A Theory of Justice, by John Rawls, as an elective when I was a student at U.C.L.A. Law School in the early 70's. The book had just been published, and it was an instant classic. The entire semester was devoted to the study of Rawls' fascinating arguments. I'm certain, Preston, that as a political scientist you are very familiar with that instant classic in political philosophy. Remember the distinction that Rawls drew between what he called weak analogies and strong analogies? I was not previously familiar with those terms. Weak analogies, he observed, are good and useful to advance an argument. Strong analogies, on the other hand, shift the focus from your ostensible argument to the truth of the analogy, and build resistance to your argument. Weak analogies are generally not debatable. Strong analogies are quite controversial.
For example, suppose I wanted to advance the proposition that those who constantly criticize and find fault with their church should not be surprised if they don't feel a lot of trust and inclusiveness from their fellow church members who exhibit, in conversation and actions, love the church despite its faults. I could use the following analogy to support my argument: "If you want to build a strong, loving relationship with your wife, you can't spend the majority of your conversations with her fault- finding and analyzing what's wrong with her." The response from a church liberal might be, "Well, that's a bad analogy; I'm not married to the church." But no one would argue with the truth of the analogy. It may be an infelicitous analogy, but it is a good (weak) analogy in the sense that it keeps the conversation focused on the topic rather than the truth of the analogy. If your analogy evokes a strong negative response from the church liberal, "Nonsense! I know lots of strong, loving marriages where the husband constantly criticizes his wife, both publicly and privately," then the conversation is likely to be dragged away from the nature of the relationship between members and their church to the truth of your analogy.
Now let's try an example of a strong analogy to "support" the same argument: "Those who constantly criticize America, despise its past, and can only love it to the extent that it can be transformed into a collective 'village'," should not be surprised if a large number of Americans do not trust them and question their patriotism." Now you might respond, "That's a bad analogy – our civic relationship with democratic republics of which we are citizens is vastly different from our moral and spiritual relationship with the church." But I think such a response to this strong analogy is highly unlikely. I can assure you that such an analogy would, in most circumstances be a huge – no doubt intentional – distraction, and would cause the conversation to veer sharply off topic into heated political exchanges, just as a drive-by gunshot crashing through your living room window would distract you from a quiet evening watching television or reading a book. (See, there's an example of an emotionally neutral, weak – and useful – analogy.)
So when someone uses a vivid, emotional political example (a strong analogy), claiming to only be making a point – a point that is really tangential to a discussion about effective communication styles and strategies – it is akin to the feeling one experiences when a sulphuric smell suddenly wafts through a crowded elevator.
Maybe we all need to preface strong analogies with a caveat: "My objective is not to persuade or advance an argument; it is to bully and/or personally offend some listeners/readers by tweaking them or the individual/group with which I think they identify."
I get it. Since I apparently misunderstood/misinterpreted what you were saying, and since “a reasonable person” wouldn’t have so misunderstood/misinterpreted you…ipso facto I am not a reasonable person.
I understand Mark’s blog much better now.
In retrospect should’ve asked you to clarify; but it seemed fairly straightforward to me. I certainly shouldn’t make that mistake again.
“If in my handling of the evidence and argument to the jury I treat opposing counsel and his witnesses as ‘honest human beings,’ I am likely to suffer the same fate that Romney suffered in the last election.”
Speaking of honest discussion, you could not have expected that political drive-by to go unnoticed or left alone. The implication was unmistakable; Romney treated Obama as an “honest human being”, which of course he is not, and got his hat handed to him. Preston simply reciprocated. Are these both examples of strong analogies? Your caveat would have clarified things immeasurably.
Should we assume any “emotional baggage” from the results of the 2012 general election?
(Of course, in the spirit of honest discussion, I would certainly have had additional emotional baggage had political fortunes been reversed.)
Stephen, Stephen Stephen…sigh – Our conversations sometimes seem to be a series of miscommunications and misunderstandings. First of all, I sincerely apologize for implying that you are an unreasonable person. I do not believe that, and should not have made that statement. What I did mean, and should have said, is that "No reasonable interpretation of anything I said could lead one to conclude that I endorse personal attacks or ad hominem arguments."
Furthermore, I did not say, nor did I intend to insinuate, that Obama is not an honest human being. In fact, he has, in my opinion, demonstrated far greater integrity and honesty in his political convictions than Romney. My point was that affirmation of the basic honesty and goodness of your opponent in a debate, to show what a nice guy you are, doesn't generally win people to your side, and it may actually appear to be a sign of weakness. I was simply using what I thought was a pretty non-controversial observation – that Romney's constant affirmations of President Obama as a person did not win over voters – to illustrate my argument that debates over issues should not be freighted with personal considerations, be they positive, empathetic feelings or negative, judgmental feelings.
And no, I really don't think I have any emotional baggage from the 2012 election – at least none that I didn't have before the election. As an Adventist, who sees signs of fulfillment of prophecy more in the infringements of personal liberty by the federal government than in the intrusion of religion into civic values, I was not among those who indulged buoyant expectations about the outcome of that contest. I am a happy pessimist. I hope for the best, but expect the worst. So I live with a deep sense of gratitude and equanimity. Even when my hopes are dashed, I can say that I was right. And when life exceeds my expectations, as it generally does, I feel incredibly blessed.
Yes, i also agree… Mark, in desiring to share his views of human relations, received in Nathan's first
sentence in response, "I like your conclusions"; then his second sentence "but" your route for getting there has a few stumbling blocks"….Wow, not being sensitive would still be a putdown for many. Pray tell, isn't the route to understanding for most of us a stumbling & humbling trek? Unknowingly, Nathan, by his immediate analysis of Mark, and his following long-g-g-g-g exlanation of how he saw things, only further proved disheartening to Mark, and some of us here.
Nathan, a couple of your quotes, "if you really want to irritate me, the best way is to try to explain my
idea or way of thinking". Is this not what you unthinkingly, expressed to Mark?
Also, "if you can't stand the heat". Nathan, i believe by your responses to Mark, you innocently conveyed to him by your analysis, that your methods and success were more straight forward and superior. Encouraging others does not begin with psychoanalyzing them, and verbally telling them if you have problems, don't you want to know it? We all have problems in communicating our thoughts and perhaps fallible knowledge.
Nathan,
Because you (likely) didn't like my examples (they were not analogies), you used them as a pivot point to divert from my point — and (then) agree with your own (which was interesting, but, in my opinion, off-point).
My point is that when a person (in this case, an adversary) is most comfortable, they tend to, quite literally, speak their mind. In doing so, they tend to articulate the points of debate that are most objectionable to their adversary, and, in turn, isolate the locus of the disagreement.
Whether or not the speaker agrees with the objections of or the conclusions drawn by the listener, candid discussion tends to sift out polite cover and expose the true feelings of the speaker. The merits of the conclusions drawn from the speaker's position are justified by "facts" or, in some cases, as Churchill eloquently stated, protected by "a bodyguard of lies."
Candor is, I believe, best achieved in an atmosphere of proactive listening.
Preston,
You wrote: "Candor is, I believe, best achieved in an atmosphere of proactive listening." I hope you did not intentionally paraphrase that modern philosopher of mass deception, Saul Alinsky. To put it in the words uttered by a flood of proponents for a certain persuasion whose leader resides at a famous address on Washington, DC, "Candor is when you quit using facts to test and refute what I'm saying and start believing that everything I say is the truth."
No, William, these are actually my own thoughts. I will leave it to Newt and you to argue with Saul.
Again, my point is not that candor IS the truth, but that it often reveals the truth about what the speaker believes — regardless of the facts presented (for example, Mitt's 47% number was not the locus of a factual challenge).
Listening allows this to happen.