A Daily Happening: The Intellectual Practice

I am going to go on record with the commitment to try to post every day here. I have such a nice page, such a nice blog, and it gets ignored. It’s the perfect place to work on ideas by sharing them with an imagined audience (aren’t they all at some level?). So why don’t I do it?

It’s because I’ve been “spoiling my appetite” with social media – the posting and reposting on Twitter and Facebook fills you up and makes you feel that same sort of goodness that sharing thoughts on a blog does. But the blog comes with a bit more chewing, a bit more rumination. It’s the difference between the calories in a salad versus a sack of Oreos. But I’d rather eat Oreos anyday. . . .

The point of this spot is to work on ideas by sharing them. This is writing as epistemic to be sure, but writing as a critique of epistemology I hope. I hope I walk away from these posts feeling somewhat dissatisfied, ready to type again tomorrow when the time comes. I have a fear that it will be too much of the former and perhaps push me back to something easier. 

To start things off, I’ll share some thoughts about Staughton Lynd, the great historian of the New Left (he was a historian in or during the New Left might be more accurate since he talks little of that time period) and he makes me remember how I used to feel about history when I was studying it and taking classes in it at Texas A&M back in the day. Staughton Lynd wrote a great number of great things but here’s a line that has been haunting me since I read it earlier in the summer: 


from page 138 of  From Here to There: The Staughton Lynd Reader

from page 138 of From Here to There: The Staughton Lynd Reader

What does this quote mean? For me it means that intellectualism is a constant labor/practice focused on clarification of problems as opposed to the distribution of answers. A former student of mine shared a pretty strange article today about a French mathematician who rejected teaching because he didn’t want to “be the one who knows.” Seems to me that the teacher has to be the most uncertain and flexible one in the room for there to be real intellectual practice in there.

Why is teaching intellectual practice? Lynd just assumes it. The reason, I think, is because teaching, no matter what you teach, is about practicing approaches to problems, whether with others or alone. We teach various approaches to identifying, clarifying, and questioning problems. This is what well-taught students can do, they can face things with the tools and experiences we provide as teachers. 

I hate saying “tools” because I do not agree with the black hole of discourse about education these days that simultaneously reduces teaching to both a simplistic material production (“the creation of tools”) and the training of people in right-wayness (“provision of skills and branding for the workforce”). Good teaching needs to be against both of these ideas simply because we have no idea, and should be honest that we have no idea, what problems are going to be out there for our students when they leave the school. 

Our teaching ought to last as well.  Critical thinking isn’t worth anything if it doesn’t last fifty some odd years longer than the class. We can cement this power, I think, by demonstrating intellectual practice and performance for the students ourselves by bringing in the difficult subject matter of our time. That might be the laptop computer or the mobile phone, or it could be Black Lives Matter, or the rise of American fascists (“rise” might be a stretch, maybe “appearance?”). Regardless of what the teacher identifies as the cause of the time, the identification and the bringing of it into the classroom is the first intellectual act modeled by the teacher for the students. That foundation has to be a good one if we hope to build anything over the course of the semester.


2006_staughton_lynd.jpg

What is the “place” in Lynd’s assessment? I think here he means a physical, material activism but I base that on what I know about the man’s life. Does he mean this as a universal? I don’t think so. I think that’s what worked for him. But the question of “place” is a great one for us. I don’t know about you, but I tend to slip into thinking that the college campus is a space distinct from the rest of the world. It really isn’t. The students bring all of their experiences to the campus, and bad professors discount, ignore, or disregard these experiences as a teaching resource. The place to stand is right there with the students in the murk of it all and try to demonstrate for them the approaches you take to clarification. 

Place is also a pretty explicit call to politicize the classroom, which is a funny idea since it is already a deeply politicized space. People who reject politicizing the classroom are those who think that schooling is neutral, or at best objective, so they too need a lot of help with clarification and where to stand. It would be good if all teachers could be intellectuals, but they are not. The classroom remains politicized in favor of the workday, salary, career is your life value party which infects pretty much everything around me in my daily life. 

Politicizing the classroom is probably most frequently done by making the classroom part of the analysis of the class. The practices of the university, the school, or otherwise can come under scrutiny as examples and things like that. You don’t need to bring in giant on-fire issues from the community or society if that’s not for you. What you must do is bring in some reflexivity on the things that are being taught in order to give students some handholds on how this lesson, this class, or unit is not going to expire at the end of the semester – it remains connected. 

Lynd’s statement has the tone of a clarification but ultimately just makes me ask a lot of questions and investigate a lot of my practices. Perhaps that’s what good intellectual behavior is – to keep questions alive by continuing to pair down problems. 

 

A Daily Happening: The Intellectual Practice

I am going to go on record with the commitment to try to post every day here. I have such a nice page, such a nice blog, and it gets ignored. It’s the perfect place to work on ideas by sharing them with an imagined audience (aren’t they all at some level?). So why don’t I do it?

It’s because I’ve been “spoiling my appetite” with social media – the posting and reposting on Twitter and Facebook fills you up and makes you feel that same sort of goodness that sharing thoughts on a blog does. But the blog comes with a bit more chewing, a bit more rumination. It’s the difference between the calories in a salad versus a sack of Oreos. But I’d rather eat Oreos anyday. . . .

The point of this spot is to work on ideas by sharing them. This is writing as epistemic to be sure, but writing as a critique of epistemology I hope. I hope I walk away from these posts feeling somewhat dissatisfied, ready to type again tomorrow when the time comes. I have a fear that it will be too much of the former and perhaps push me back to something easier. 

To start things off, I’ll share some thoughts about Staughton Lynd, the great historian of the New Left (he was a historian in or during the New Left might be more accurate since he talks little of that time period) and he makes me remember how I used to feel about history when I was studying it and taking classes in it at Texas A&M back in the day. Staughton Lynd wrote a great number of great things but here’s a line that has been haunting me since I read it earlier in the summer: 


from page 138 of  From Here to There: The Staughton Lynd Reader

from page 138 of From Here to There: The Staughton Lynd Reader

What does this quote mean? For me it means that intellectualism is a constant labor/practice focused on clarification of problems as opposed to the distribution of answers. A former student of mine shared a pretty strange article today about a French mathematician who rejected teaching because he didn’t want to “be the one who knows.” Seems to me that the teacher has to be the most uncertain and flexible one in the room for there to be real intellectual practice in there.

Why is teaching intellectual practice? Lynd just assumes it. The reason, I think, is because teaching, no matter what you teach, is about practicing approaches to problems, whether with others or alone. We teach various approaches to identifying, clarifying, and questioning problems. This is what well-taught students can do, they can face things with the tools and experiences we provide as teachers. 

I hate saying “tools” because I do not agree with the black hole of discourse about education these days that simultaneously reduces teaching to both a simplistic material production (“the creation of tools”) and the training of people in right-wayness (“provision of skills and branding for the workforce”). Good teaching needs to be against both of these ideas simply because we have no idea, and should be honest that we have no idea, what problems are going to be out there for our students when they leave the school. 

Our teaching ought to last as well.  Critical thinking isn’t worth anything if it doesn’t last fifty some odd years longer than the class. We can cement this power, I think, by demonstrating intellectual practice and performance for the students ourselves by bringing in the difficult subject matter of our time. That might be the laptop computer or the mobile phone, or it could be Black Lives Matter, or the rise of American fascists (“rise” might be a stretch, maybe “appearance?”). Regardless of what the teacher identifies as the cause of the time, the identification and the bringing of it into the classroom is the first intellectual act modeled by the teacher for the students. That foundation has to be a good one if we hope to build anything over the course of the semester.


2006_staughton_lynd.jpg

What is the “place” in Lynd’s assessment? I think here he means a physical, material activism but I base that on what I know about the man’s life. Does he mean this as a universal? I don’t think so. I think that’s what worked for him. But the question of “place” is a great one for us. I don’t know about you, but I tend to slip into thinking that the college campus is a space distinct from the rest of the world. It really isn’t. The students bring all of their experiences to the campus, and bad professors discount, ignore, or disregard these experiences as a teaching resource. The place to stand is right there with the students in the murk of it all and try to demonstrate for them the approaches you take to clarification. 

Place is also a pretty explicit call to politicize the classroom, which is a funny idea since it is already a deeply politicized space. People who reject politicizing the classroom are those who think that schooling is neutral, or at best objective, so they too need a lot of help with clarification and where to stand. It would be good if all teachers could be intellectuals, but they are not. The classroom remains politicized in favor of the workday, salary, career is your life value party which infects pretty much everything around me in my daily life. 

Politicizing the classroom is probably most frequently done by making the classroom part of the analysis of the class. The practices of the university, the school, or otherwise can come under scrutiny as examples and things like that. You don’t need to bring in giant on-fire issues from the community or society if that’s not for you. What you must do is bring in some reflexivity on the things that are being taught in order to give students some handholds on how this lesson, this class, or unit is not going to expire at the end of the semester – it remains connected. 

Lynd’s statement has the tone of a clarification but ultimately just makes me ask a lot of questions and investigate a lot of my practices. Perhaps that’s what good intellectual behavior is – to keep questions alive by continuing to pair down problems. 

 

The Motion: Live Debate Education debate on Islamic Culture in the United States


integrate.jpg

The Motion: Live Debate Education is a monthly club that meets in Manhattan to debate pressing and important issues in order to improve the debate abilities of the members. It is a safe, non-partisan space for the consideration of argument quality. I advise them on various issues from time to time, and one of my great pleasures is attending the debates and writing up my thoughts about them. 

On August 24th, there was a debate on the motion: It is not possible for the United States to successfully integrate or assimilate Islamic culture.

Here’s an audio recording of that debate, followed by my commentary.

This debate was a great example of what happens when we don’t put audience first in the development of debate strategy. The best points in the debate came from the audience who demonstrated that they were keenly aware they were not being given the appropriate tools to make a sound judgement from the speakers. The speakers did an excellent job with speaking, but failed to provide more than a few facts and judgements here and there in their arguments – not once did a speaker reach out to the audience to say, “here, let me help you reach a conclusion.” Often times in our society we hear about the lack of facts in judgement. This was the important opposite end – what happens when there are only facts, or only conclusions offered to the audience. The questions posed during the audience portion were incredibly great suggestions of ways to set this debate up for judgement, but were not heeded by the speakers as we ended the debate. Here’s the play by play:

First Speaker (Proposition)

This was a list of different facts and information about Islam in the United States, but not very much was offered as to how this information informs our decision on the motion. For example, what does it mean that most violent or terroristic Islamic people converted to Islam while in the United States? This information is given to us as if it is obvious what we should do with it. However, it’s not clear – this information really helps if it is placed within a context of reasoning: “Because of this information, we can conclude that Islam is perceived as a reaction to US culture” or perhaps “Because of this we see that most people come to radical Islam while living in the US, it is in opposition to US values.” Of course, these claims need a bit more support than just this, but it’s a start that helps give a hand-hold to the audience for a decision. The story about Chechnya was also compelling, but was added as almost an afterthought to the end of the speech. This sort of parallel, historical example is one that really should have been a metaphor or story thread through the whole debate, not just something to end with.

Second Speaker (Opposition)

The second speaker in the debate offered a legal argument that it is perfectly acceptable under American law for Islamic immigrants to come into the country. The research here was good, but again, what value are these facts or this information without a larger frame or a larger machine to show us what to do with them as an audience. What do these legal decisions prove beyond the idea that it is legally acceptable for Muslims to live in the US? This was never explained. More valuable I think was the speaker’s use of the arguments from the “American Creed.” This is a rubric for judgement. The speaker could explain how violating this creed upends our other ethical commitments and our ideology in ways that are unacceptable. Violating our moral and ethical code would be incommensurable with our larger values. This is a weighing mechanism for the audience to use when they compare arguments from each speaker. But it was not brought into focus the way it should have been.

Third Speaker (Proposition)

This speaker was without a doubt incredibly dynamic and captivating. The speech was powerful – and I think the audience vote swinging greatly toward his side was due to a desire to reward his passionate speaking, not his argumentation. The arguments presented were not arguments, but claims of fact about the history of Islam. There are some fledgling enthymemes here – arguments that require the audience to complete the claim based on assumptions they bring to the speech – but they are not developed enough or placed within a context clear enough to let the audience use them properly. The thing to ask yourself about this speech is this: “What, if anything, does this information show me about the ability of Islamic culture to coexist with American culture?” Most of what he said does not meet this test, so again, we have a speech of information without much argument.

Fourth Speaker (Opposition)

Again we have a speech that deals in information but never connects it to a weighing or judgement mechanism (rubric) for the audience. The story of the young man on September 11th, 2001 was nearly the entire speech, and could have been shortened to two sentences to make the point that was trying to be made. What is important here is to clarify for the audience how to determine incompatible cultures. September 11th was a unique, traumatic event, hardly the sort of thing you want to bring up as your central narrative for determining if one set of cultural practices can co-exist with another set of practices. The everyday interactions between cultures seems to me to be what the speech needed to examine.

So after four speakers we have a lot of information – about other places in the world, about Islam, about particular people’s experiences in the US – but no articulation about what to do with all of these pieces. This is how I felt about the debate by the time we reached the audience questioning period:

The audience felt the same way I think as the questions were dead-on for what the debate needed for evaluation.

One audience member asked, “What parts of Islam are most incompatible with assimilation or integration?” The speaker replied, “All of it.” Again, this is putting factual accuracy or ideological truth ahead of helpful heuristics for judgement. 

Another asked, “Can Islamic Culture be tolerant of other religions?” This is an audience member very smartly trying to operationalize the terms of the motion in order to make them work like a machine that can render a decision. Again, this was not treated as an invitation to explain how to decide, but an invitation to toss more facts at the audience.

A final question was, “What does it mean for integration or assimilation to be successful?” This really gives another way for the debate to be decided, suggesting that perhaps they are incompatible but could be brought together “successfully” if we had a better sense of what counted for this? Again, the speakers did not take the invitation and continued to speak about “reality.” 

This debate was a stark reminder that facts and information do not speak for themselves, and that being right has very little to do with being convincing or persuasive in debating. What is always needed are ways for the audience to see how you think, not what you think; to see a path where all they could see before your arrival was impassable forest. Facts don’t help us, framework does. 

 

 

The Motion: Live Debate Education debate on Islamic Culture in the United States


integrate.jpg

The Motion: Live Debate Education is a monthly club that meets in Manhattan to debate pressing and important issues in order to improve the debate abilities of the members. It is a safe, non-partisan space for the consideration of argument quality. I advise them on various issues from time to time, and one of my great pleasures is attending the debates and writing up my thoughts about them. 

On August 24th, there was a debate on the motion: It is not possible for the United States to successfully integrate or assimilate Islamic culture.

Here’s an audio recording of that debate, followed by my commentary.

This debate was a great example of what happens when we don’t put audience first in the development of debate strategy. The best points in the debate came from the audience who demonstrated that they were keenly aware they were not being given the appropriate tools to make a sound judgement from the speakers. The speakers did an excellent job with speaking, but failed to provide more than a few facts and judgements here and there in their arguments – not once did a speaker reach out to the audience to say, “here, let me help you reach a conclusion.” Often times in our society we hear about the lack of facts in judgement. This was the important opposite end – what happens when there are only facts, or only conclusions offered to the audience. The questions posed during the audience portion were incredibly great suggestions of ways to set this debate up for judgement, but were not heeded by the speakers as we ended the debate. Here’s the play by play:

First Speaker (Proposition)

This was a list of different facts and information about Islam in the United States, but not very much was offered as to how this information informs our decision on the motion. For example, what does it mean that most violent or terroristic Islamic people converted to Islam while in the United States? This information is given to us as if it is obvious what we should do with it. However, it’s not clear – this information really helps if it is placed within a context of reasoning: “Because of this information, we can conclude that Islam is perceived as a reaction to US culture” or perhaps “Because of this we see that most people come to radical Islam while living in the US, it is in opposition to US values.” Of course, these claims need a bit more support than just this, but it’s a start that helps give a hand-hold to the audience for a decision. The story about Chechnya was also compelling, but was added as almost an afterthought to the end of the speech. This sort of parallel, historical example is one that really should have been a metaphor or story thread through the whole debate, not just something to end with.

Second Speaker (Opposition)

The second speaker in the debate offered a legal argument that it is perfectly acceptable under American law for Islamic immigrants to come into the country. The research here was good, but again, what value are these facts or this information without a larger frame or a larger machine to show us what to do with them as an audience. What do these legal decisions prove beyond the idea that it is legally acceptable for Muslims to live in the US? This was never explained. More valuable I think was the speaker’s use of the arguments from the “American Creed.” This is a rubric for judgement. The speaker could explain how violating this creed upends our other ethical commitments and our ideology in ways that are unacceptable. Violating our moral and ethical code would be incommensurable with our larger values. This is a weighing mechanism for the audience to use when they compare arguments from each speaker. But it was not brought into focus the way it should have been.

Third Speaker (Proposition)

This speaker was without a doubt incredibly dynamic and captivating. The speech was powerful – and I think the audience vote swinging greatly toward his side was due to a desire to reward his passionate speaking, not his argumentation. The arguments presented were not arguments, but claims of fact about the history of Islam. There are some fledgling enthymemes here – arguments that require the audience to complete the claim based on assumptions they bring to the speech – but they are not developed enough or placed within a context clear enough to let the audience use them properly. The thing to ask yourself about this speech is this: “What, if anything, does this information show me about the ability of Islamic culture to coexist with American culture?” Most of what he said does not meet this test, so again, we have a speech of information without much argument.

Fourth Speaker (Opposition)

Again we have a speech that deals in information but never connects it to a weighing or judgement mechanism (rubric) for the audience. The story of the young man on September 11th, 2001 was nearly the entire speech, and could have been shortened to two sentences to make the point that was trying to be made. What is important here is to clarify for the audience how to determine incompatible cultures. September 11th was a unique, traumatic event, hardly the sort of thing you want to bring up as your central narrative for determining if one set of cultural practices can co-exist with another set of practices. The everyday interactions between cultures seems to me to be what the speech needed to examine.

So after four speakers we have a lot of information – about other places in the world, about Islam, about particular people’s experiences in the US – but no articulation about what to do with all of these pieces. This is how I felt about the debate by the time we reached the audience questioning period:

The audience felt the same way I think as the questions were dead-on for what the debate needed for evaluation.

One audience member asked, “What parts of Islam are most incompatible with assimilation or integration?” The speaker replied, “All of it.” Again, this is putting factual accuracy or ideological truth ahead of helpful heuristics for judgement. 

Another asked, “Can Islamic Culture be tolerant of other religions?” This is an audience member very smartly trying to operationalize the terms of the motion in order to make them work like a machine that can render a decision. Again, this was not treated as an invitation to explain how to decide, but an invitation to toss more facts at the audience.

A final question was, “What does it mean for integration or assimilation to be successful?” This really gives another way for the debate to be decided, suggesting that perhaps they are incompatible but could be brought together “successfully” if we had a better sense of what counted for this? Again, the speakers did not take the invitation and continued to speak about “reality.” 

This debate was a stark reminder that facts and information do not speak for themselves, and that being right has very little to do with being convincing or persuasive in debating. What is always needed are ways for the audience to see how you think, not what you think; to see a path where all they could see before your arrival was impassable forest. Facts don’t help us, framework does. 

 

 

Review of The Motion’s debate on whether religion is a harm or good to society


I had the opportunity to attend a debate held by The Motion in New York on Wednesday, here’s my commentary about the round. I am sorry the recording is not great quality, but I made it as good as I could! Next time I’ll get closer to the speakers. 

The Motion is an amazing community organizaztion that is doing the hard and important work of providing a place and some space for people to practice the hard art of deliberation, argument, and oral persuasion. This is something that even universities have trouble providing. The Motion has done an excellent job of offering a great place in which to do this important work. I already look forward to the next one. 

Below is my overall audio commentary for the debate if you care to listen to that as well. Here are my thoughts:

First Speaker for Proposition

The speaker set up a comparative case, which is an interesting way to frame this debate. The metaphor that kept appearing throughout the debate – and in the meta-commentary of the moderator – was that this was like a “trial.” Was religion guilty or not-guilty of . . .something. But the first speaker’s comments indicate another path to evaluating the debate. He argues that religion has been used to justify the greatest evils perpetuated by people against people. The second half of his speech is used to argue that any good that religion accomplishes in the world is done better by secular organizations.

It’s a good strategy to indict and then try to head-off the argument, “Well yes but they do such good” with some alternative. The only thing missing here was the case-study. A case study helps the audience ground your argument with some specific story from the world. For example, the speaker could make the argument that secular organizations to it better, then provide a story about a secular organization that came in and served a community better than the religious organization that had been there. Also, the power of narrative can play into things here: A story about someone who was failed by a religious organization that tried to help and one about a secular organization would have gone a long way.

 

First Speaker for Opposition

After the set up we get from the previous speaker, this speaker oddly chose to ignore nearly everything that was said and discuss a very specific and detailed rubric for the audience to determine a winner in the debate. He narrowed the entire decision to the question of whether or not religion is beneficial to the oppressed, and warned the audience not to decide based on an atrocity scorecard. I do think this second point is quite good, but should have been the opening line of this speech. Instead, the speaker quickly departed from this line of reasoning into a very detailed list of instructions to the audience of what to do and what not to do when deciding the debate.

In debating, one of the most important tasks you have as a speaker is what I call disruption. You need to create some static in the clarity of the picture of the world provided by the other side. They are trying to tell a story about how things are, and you need to raise doubt about that story’s coherence or realism. Better yet is if you can simply provide opportunities for the audience to raise those issues on their own. In the first case, it depends on your credibility as a speaker; in the second case it does not – the audience becomes a co-author in the story you are telling and is less likely to disagree with what they have come up with on their own.

There were several opportunities to disrupt the tale of the proposition. Most notably is the assumption that using religion as a justification for atrocity makes religion atrocious. This undermines the first half of what proposition offered. Secondly, it should be mentioned that if secular organizations do such a good job, where are the examples of them outshining religious ones?

Instead, the speaker makes only one response – that religion is a catalyst for secular aid work. This has the unfortunate effect of allowing the audience to read that religion, even at its best, is merely an aid or motive to the actual good done in the world by secular groups. The argument should be something along the lines that a world with flawed religion is a much better world than one with no religion at all. The argument of inspiration that is offered precludes this position from being established.

The speaker ends with some examples of times religion helped oppressed people. But the speaker has never explained why the debate should be limited to this very small realm. This is something I see quite a bit in debates where the speaker mistakes an example for a paradigm. The example is only an instance that needs to be placed into a larger narrative. In this case, the narrative was outshined by the possibilities of the example. Religion didn’t just help the oppressed people but became a symbol for who they were (identity) and what they could accomplish (agency).

 

Second Speaker – Proposition Side

The third speaker overall, second for the proposition, did a couple of stylistic things that at first glance don’t seem important, but when engaging in debate are incredibly powerful tools that help the audience move toward your point of view.


The first is a powerful introduction – the speaker started off with a quote that reoriented the debate like a breeze on a hot day. Always consider the start of a debate speech to be a chance to cleanse the intellectual palate so the audience can appreciate the flavors of what you are bringing to the debate.

Secondly he used the rhetorical form of repetition, noted for its power in influencing minds by some of the earliest Greek thinkers on rhetoric. His repetition of “think about” and the concern creates a buffet of reasons the audience can choose to align with for this side of the motion. Repetition has the power of a cadence – we get swept up in it as it dissolves our resistance to the ideas.

This speech had good information too – about the happiest countries in the world and the UN report on religious extremist violence – but this information was never slotted into a story, it was just handed to us, like a flyer as we walk by (and we all know how well that works).

There was a confusing (at least for me) argument at the end about how communism is an ideology while atheism is not. I think that both of these concepts (communism and atheism) are so vast that there’s plenty of room for both to be an ideology or not. What the argument needs to do is contextualize both in the terms of “good of society.” For example, I might say “There’s plenty of space for both atheism and communism to do good and harm, but let’s look at what happens when we incorporate both into society as ideology.” This story then can paint a picture for the audience of either one, and show that the harms of communism are not necessarily the harms of atheism.

Second Speaker for the opposition

What a great command of great thinkers and quotes this speaker had. The style he chose to present his arguments really helped their side a lot. This speaker, much more than any other, used the enthymeme, an argument type described by Aristotle as one that leaves the completion of the thought up to the audience. For example, when directly responding to the arguments about slavery, the speaker spoke about John Brown and the Third Great Awakening. He never said, “So therefore, we see two historical examples of religion adjusting society toward the good.” This doesn’t need to be said; it’s better if the audience makes the conclusion themselves. Some think of the enthymeme as an argument that unwittingly recruits the audience as a co-conspirator, making it very unlikely they will disagree with arguments that they have unwittingly helped construct.

The speaker pointed out the only error in his argument himself – he quoted Hayek, that without theory, facts are silent. I think that the speaker needed a grand narrative of the history of religion in social justice radicalism, particularly in the United States (as that was where most of his powerful examples originated). A narrative frame can be a theory – an approach to understanding why facts matter. Facts are not reasons on their own. Without a frame, they spin like tops, going wherever their own energy takes them and falling when we least expect it. This lack of narrative framing is a small issue to pick on due to the compelling delivery of the speaker, which was appreciated by everyone in the audience, no matter their opinion on the motion.

The Crossfire

The crossfire was not as informative as I expected it to be as both sides played a very cautious game with the questions and answers. There are a couple of good opportunities that came up in the crossfire that were missed because of the cautious game that everyone played.

First for proposition – in the struggle to distance atheism from communism, a lot is lost that is beneficial for atheism if you admit that it has a lot of flaws. Anything can become a dangerous tool of oppression. The difference is that secularism has built-in critical tools to check back this overzealous use of it as a weapon. Religion encourages this use. If this had been capitalized upon, it would sway the debate toward their side pretty easily. But I think that these debaters were interested in a defensive game. The problem is that you cannot debate to “not lose.” If you do, you won’t win. Persuasion must be high energy and it must be assertive. People don’t get energized to endorse you if there’s nothing wrong with what you are saying. They get energized when you provide vision and articulate reasons why you are right.

For opposition – The continual return to the strange rubric of “only in cases of oppression” was a waste of time. This is irrelevant to how the audience is thinking about the debate. They are interested in a large judgement. You can win that religion is helpful to the oppressed and still have the audience vote against you. They probably agree with this statement, but it doesn’t help them find reasons to support the side of the motion you are representing. There was a mention of Nietzsche during crossfire, which has the potential to be another winning approach. Religion helps us deal with uncertainty by forcing us to continuously struggle with faith. Nietzsche believed that God was dead, but this meant that values have to be derived from our own selves. The struggle with faith is one of these places. Values dictated from on high are no longer going to do it. Religion provides practice in faith which allows people to wrangle with uncertainty in life in better ways than secularism can provide.

More robust questioning would be good, ways to get the other side to explain their position a bit more would help the audience.

The Final Statements  

Proposition –

Great to speak to the idea of a God who is with us in all situations. Unfortunately, this wasn’t laid out against all the claims of the other side because of the strange obsession with proving to us the uncontroversial point that religion helps those who are oppressed improve their life.

If a point does not seem controversial, it probably isn’t a good thing to talk about in a debate.

 

Oppositionn First Closing Speaker

This speech started off with some strange claims about how legally people had to be religious which explains why religion stimulated many discoveries. This strange point was contrasted with a better point near the end which was the metric of taking action – we must have a perspective that allows us to act in the face of oppression. Now the speaker should add the reasons why religion discourages this sort of action.

 

Opposition Second Closing Speaker

I think this speech tried to do too much. As a closing speech it should be a birds-eye view of the issues. There was some of that closer to the end of the speech where the speaker discussed the “cosmopolitan context” of secularism along with materiality. Bringing this forward as the thesis of the last speech, the speaker could have provided a nice rubic to judge the role of religion in society. If a cosmopolitan context cannot exist with religion then a choice must be made. But if they can coexist, the discussion is whether one dilutes the other. Might be best to assume a cosmopolitan order and speak as if that was a given. The final point should be that religion adds necessary value to cosmopolitanism that it cannot do without.

Proposition Second Closing Speaker

This speech was quite scattershot and had a lot of powerful personal narratives that should have been in the first speech he delivered. These stories feel like extra information when they are provided at the end. I think they are very powerful framing devices to help ask a central question that proposition wants the audience to think about: Would such violent incidents happen if people had no access to a supernatural order of things? If they were not the instruments of enforcement of a higher spiritual law?

As I said above, I think the idea that atheism is not an ideology is a less powerful argument than saying atheism is an ideology just like religion except for the fact that it as ethical and reasonable checks to it becoming a hegemonic force like religion. Rationality and reason can be just as terrible as Christianity in the wrong hands, but at least secularist thinking has some ways to make sure this doesn’t happen. Religion encourages this result.