The New York Sophist

Teaching The Order of Things this semester has been quite good for my own thinking process, but boy was I wrong about this book when I first read it in undergraduate. It’s hard for me to accept sometimes that I am no longer just figuring things out as a student would. The primary reason for this is because I am still figuring things out as a student would. It’s a big barrier to overcome in perception, as you can plainly see.



I wonder if anyone has written a similar study of Eastern Thought, primarily China? I was having a conversation the other day about Chinese forms of political discourse, and some things Foucault is saying near the end of this book have me returning to that conversation quite a bit.



For example, is there a study that accounts for the rise of differing views of what counts as appropriate distribution of wealth in China that goes beyond opinion, and into the heart of what are appropriate objects of thought and study during the time of Lao Tzu, Sun Tzu, and Confucius?

The course I am teaching this book in is our newly minted Senior Seminar that has the overt goal of giving all of our graduates a common ground to stand on and synthesize their experience. As the first teacher of it, I’ve selected research methods as the focus of the course. This is why we are starting with Foucault, a book that they seem to enjoy, but are universal in agreement that it is the most intense and difficult book they have read in college.

There really shouldn’t have been much of a break – but the world decided I should take one. The world being really, really poor internet due to our hotel in Mexico (not Mexico, which was really great, and had some wonderful free public wi-fi that was superior to what we have in New York City for the most part) and spending much needed time with family in Houston in between teaching sessions for the Houston Urban Debate League summer camp.

While teaching at HUDL the Olympics were in full swing. I would teach some World Schools debate, and see a bit of Olympics on my friend’s phone or at night on TV, or out at a bar. The combinations of a global competitive event showcasing excellent athletes from all over the world combined with teaching a competitive event of excellence in verbal and mental gymnastics was not lost on me, and still isn’t. Policy debate, a favorite target of those who support more recent forms of debating, is always seen as hard and confusing by new students, and that difficulty is touted by its defenders as the best thing about it.

Why do events become so insanely difficult?

I would like to create a similar image about American policy debate. But this image is analogous to the difference in what counts as a good debate in the mid-century United States, and what counts as a good policy debate in 2012. No better or more direct image is required.

Transcripts from 1950s debates that I have read indicate the exact same breadth of difference as a vault from 1956 and today. “Sticking the landing” or “the launch” are the same technical considerations that policy debaters face when preparing for competitions.

Which of these two images is better? Which one is the one we should structure our debating competitions around? Which one should be properly called “The Vault?”

And why is vaulting, or policy debate, so hard?

The answer is deceptively simple – competitive events that people love and that people are drawn to participating in change and grow as competitors innovate the practices of the form. It appears so hard, because it is an amalgamation of a variety of beliefs about practice.

This innovation has no risk of destroying the competitive form as long as participants are becoming the coaches and teachers of the event. If you notice, all critics of contemporary policy debate practices come from people who have explicitly or implicitly left it. In their mind, the practices they were involved in are more like the image on the left. The way a debate looks to them today is more like something on the right – “how in the world can someone do that?” they ask. They are also concerned that nobody, upon watching a debate on the right, would be able to believe they could do that. It seems beyond them.

The answer is that through practice and through innovative pedagogy, people are able to perform. It is an illusion that someone would need to master the practice on the left in order to master the practice on the right. It is also an illusion that someone would need to master some basic form of debate to then advance to being good at policy debate. Teach the twist right away, I say. Teach the event and teach it well.  Don’t teach an artificially constructed evolution or some sort of development of progress made up in your own head.

In fact, those at the top of policy debate these days are practicing something that looks more like a basic form of debate. But don’t be fooled by that, it is much more self aware and much more complex than it appears. It looks like the vault on the left, but contains within it the vault on the right.

Policy debate is so difficult because it can be either image, or hide one image as the other one. Which vault is more difficult? Which is better? In gymnastics, the performance is inter-subjectively verifiable. In debating, we have no such luxury.Policy debate is hard because it is the vault of appearances and meaning.

Healthy competitive events evolve and change over time in order to make themselves more interesting. But the motive at the time is competitive victory. Innovation that might benefit the whole field comes from raising the bar by increasing difficulty in the event. At the time, it might seem like the event has changed. Some will say for the better, some will say for the worse. But all will say that the two images are virtually unrelated, except that they are called the same event – “The Vault” – whatever that means.

“Debate” – what does that mean? What should it mean? What counts as innovation in debating? What should count?

Is it possible to go too far in innovation? At what point does debate no longer resemble itself? At what point are we no longer engaged in debating?

These questions – often the direct and apparent subject of policy debate rounds – are the reasons that policy debate is so hard.

And it will continue to become more so as students and their teachers continue to innovate and create on campuses all over the U.S.

There really shouldn’t have been much of a break – but the world decided I should take one. The world being really, really poor internet due to our hotel in Mexico (not Mexico, which was really great, and had some wonderful free public wi-fi that was superior to what we have in New York City for the most part) and spending much needed time with family in Houston in between teaching sessions for the Houston Urban Debate League summer camp.

While teaching at HUDL the Olympics were in full swing. I would teach some World Schools debate, and see a bit of Olympics on my friend’s phone or at night on TV, or out at a bar. The combinations of a global competitive event showcasing excellent athletes from all over the world combined with teaching a competitive event of excellence in verbal and mental gymnastics was not lost on me, and still isn’t. Policy debate, a favorite target of those who support more recent forms of debating, is always seen as hard and confusing by new students, and that difficulty is touted by its defenders as the best thing about it.

Why do events become so insanely difficult?

I would like to create a similar image about American policy debate. But this image is analogous to the difference in what counts as a good debate in the mid-century United States, and what counts as a good policy debate in 2012. No better or more direct image is required.

Transcripts from 1950s debates that I have read indicate the exact same breadth of difference as a vault from 1956 and today. “Sticking the landing” or “the launch” are the same technical considerations that policy debaters face when preparing for competitions.

Which of these two images is better? Which one is the one we should structure our debating competitions around? Which one should be properly called “The Vault?”

And why is vaulting, or policy debate, so hard?

The answer is deceptively simple – competitive events that people love and that people are drawn to participating in change and grow as competitors innovate the practices of the form. It appears so hard, because it is an amalgamation of a variety of beliefs about practice.

This innovation has no risk of destroying the competitive form as long as participants are becoming the coaches and teachers of the event. If you notice, all critics of contemporary policy debate practices come from people who have explicitly or implicitly left it. In their mind, the practices they were involved in are more like the image on the left. The way a debate looks to them today is more like something on the right – “how in the world can someone do that?” they ask. They are also concerned that nobody, upon watching a debate on the right, would be able to believe they could do that. It seems beyond them.

The answer is that through practice and through innovative pedagogy, people are able to perform. It is an illusion that someone would need to master the practice on the left in order to master the practice on the right. It is also an illusion that someone would need to master some basic form of debate to then advance to being good at policy debate. Teach the twist right away, I say. Teach the event and teach it well.  Don’t teach an artificially constructed evolution or some sort of development of progress made up in your own head.

In fact, those at the top of policy debate these days are practicing something that looks more like a basic form of debate. But don’t be fooled by that, it is much more self aware and much more complex than it appears. It looks like the vault on the left, but contains within it the vault on the right.

Policy debate is so difficult because it can be either image, or hide one image as the other one. Which vault is more difficult? Which is better? In gymnastics, the performance is inter-subjectively verifiable. In debating, we have no such luxury.Policy debate is hard because it is the vault of appearances and meaning.

Healthy competitive events evolve and change over time in order to make themselves more interesting. But the motive at the time is competitive victory. Innovation that might benefit the whole field comes from raising the bar by increasing difficulty in the event. At the time, it might seem like the event has changed. Some will say for the better, some will say for the worse. But all will say that the two images are virtually unrelated, except that they are called the same event – “The Vault” – whatever that means.

“Debate” – what does that mean? What should it mean? What counts as innovation in debating? What should count?

Is it possible to go too far in innovation? At what point does debate no longer resemble itself? At what point are we no longer engaged in debating?

These questions – often the direct and apparent subject of policy debate rounds – are the reasons that policy debate is so hard.

And it will continue to become more so as students and their teachers continue to innovate and create on campuses all over the U.S.

It’s one thing to go around spouting off Buddhist quotes because they sound good, or because they are apt to the situation/audience (like a good Sophist does, so I try to do). It’s another thing when you encounter a moment that really hits you, where you are so squarely and so completely struck that the only thing that can be thought is that everything, all of it, all the things you’ve been reading and thinking about for years, all those things that swim around in your head, are all true. I have never been persuaded like this before, but this happened to me in Philadelphia this past weekend.

What I thought was, or what thought me, or what struck me was this – everything is connected. This very simple propositional idea from Buddhism that is at the core of any koan, any Dharma talk, any quote, or any stura that you may come across.

A large part of my recent troubles has been brought about by my own anxiety driven desire to have a compartmentalized existence. This is clearly not only impossible, but so incredibly imaginary there is no way to make it plausible even inside the fantasy. It is a fantasy of fantasy.

The reality is that my problems are all mine, and mine alone and I get to be with them forever if I want to be. The reality is also that it’s incredibly easy to blame other things for my issues. But the best reality out of all of these is that when I go a bit too far, or blame too much on external factors, the universe nicely snaps back with clean and clear reminders that I have ordered things this way.

What is actually going on though? Everything. The elements I would rather not have in my life are providing me excellent people, conversations, experiences, thoughts, and being. The things I would like to fill my life with are providing me with sadness, misery, want, lack and frustration. Of course both of these sentences can be easily flipped back and forth. So there really is no way out. Which is fine. Because “no way out” – the recognition of it, is the way out. Until you think of it that way, then the door is shut. No escape.

I know this is a bit extreme, but it was an extreme weekend. I had a great time. I was reminded of a lot. I forgot a lot. I thought a lot. I tried to speak French in front of Independence Hall. I drank a bit too much. And I was very happy to be there. Not just there at my friends’ wedding but very happy to be there.

Tomorrow it’s time to teach debate again, and I wonder what other connections will appear/be revealed.  There are a lot of vehicles toward realization, and teaching debate seems to be the one I am in right now.

It’s one thing to go around spouting off Buddhist quotes because they sound good, or because they are apt to the situation/audience (like a good Sophist does, so I try to do). It’s another thing when you encounter a moment that really hits you, where you are so squarely and so completely struck that the only thing that can be thought is that everything, all of it, all the things you’ve been reading and thinking about for years, all those things that swim around in your head, are all true. I have never been persuaded like this before, but this happened to me in Philadelphia this past weekend.

What I thought was, or what thought me, or what struck me was this – everything is connected. This very simple propositional idea from Buddhism that is at the core of any koan, any Dharma talk, any quote, or any stura that you may come across.

A large part of my recent troubles has been brought about by my own anxiety driven desire to have a compartmentalized existence. This is clearly not only impossible, but so incredibly imaginary there is no way to make it plausible even inside the fantasy. It is a fantasy of fantasy.

The reality is that my problems are all mine, and mine alone and I get to be with them forever if I want to be. The reality is also that it’s incredibly easy to blame other things for my issues. But the best reality out of all of these is that when I go a bit too far, or blame too much on external factors, the universe nicely snaps back with clean and clear reminders that I have ordered things this way.

What is actually going on though? Everything. The elements I would rather not have in my life are providing me excellent people, conversations, experiences, thoughts, and being. The things I would like to fill my life with are providing me with sadness, misery, want, lack and frustration. Of course both of these sentences can be easily flipped back and forth. So there really is no way out. Which is fine. Because “no way out” – the recognition of it, is the way out. Until you think of it that way, then the door is shut. No escape.

I know this is a bit extreme, but it was an extreme weekend. I had a great time. I was reminded of a lot. I forgot a lot. I thought a lot. I tried to speak French in front of Independence Hall. I drank a bit too much. And I was very happy to be there. Not just there at my friends’ wedding but very happy to be there.

Tomorrow it’s time to teach debate again, and I wonder what other connections will appear/be revealed.  There are a lot of vehicles toward realization, and teaching debate seems to be the one I am in right now.