WWhen I moved from South Korea to Australia at the age of eight, I learned that the worst part of crossing language lines is adapting to lively conversation—to its fast, layered rhythms and many turns. Once I started, the best I could do was wait for a change of subject or a long pause to regain a foothold. I tripped over loose words and broken sentences, and didn’t go far.
This was a problem because there were many things I didn’t understand about my new home - why all the public figures (including politicians) were presented as sports fans, why strangers were called “buddies”, and why none of the food was eaten. Unable to ask questions, let alone raise objections, I began to wear a distant smile and retreat into private corners of my mind.
When I told my mom and dad my frustrations, they told me to be sympathetic: “Try to imagine things from their point of view.” Teachers described empathy as a hallmark of typical students; In the church, the pastor referred to it as a divine virtue. In my opinion, empathy has taken over the mythical allure of a panacea, but it has remained elusive in real life. The differences between me and my peers seem to be too great a distance to bridge.
Things changed for me when I joined the debate team in elementary school. I was drawn to the activity by the promise of attention - a few minutes in which I could talk without interruption. But I also discovered a body of wisdom, including a new way of thinking about empathy.
I’ve chased these ideas for 15 years, winning two world championships and coaching the national debate teams at Harvard and Australia along the way. The experience led me to become a reporter and now a law student. It has made me convinced that debate can help us improve our lives and our communities in these polarized times.
Consider the rules of the debate: two parties are randomly assigned to defend or against a topic - suppose we must cancel student debts. Each speaker has equal time to speak before an impartial judge who rewards the most persuasive team.
To win the debate, one must understand not only the condition of the individual but also the condition of the other party. The best debaters come to such a double vision through a rigorous process. In the final moments of pre-round preparation, they go through a series of exercises known as ‘side-switching’.
One involves taking a new paper, putting oneself on the other side of the topic and brainstorming the four best arguments for the new position. The other thing is to review one’s condition through the eyes of the opponent, and to put forward the strongest possible objections.
Exercise provides a wealth of strategic insights, but it also has important side effects. For a time, we the interlocutors feel like believing ideas that go against our own. We track the steps a reasonable person (like us) could take to reach conclusions that may seem strange. From this changing situation, we consider the probability that we are wrong.
Together, these aspects of lateral switching form an unusual view of empathy. While most people view empathy as a spontaneous psychological connection or a reflection of virtue, interlocutors define it as an understanding achieved through a series of actions. It is the result and reward of work.
Any group-whether a family, a workplace, or a nation-has to manage its differences, but today many of our arguments are hostile, futile, and painful. In short, we are stuck, shouting at each other from a distance, fixed in our own places. The resulting hostility and contempt undermines the basic ambition of liberal democracy: to build a community around, not despite the differences between people.
Mental habits like switching sides can help us break free. They remove our inaction and force us to think on the other side, not so that we avoid disagreement, but that we better disagree. It requires neither genius nor virtue, only paper and a pen.
Debate contains many other lessons—from building (and deconstructing) arguments to deciding when conflict is useful—that can help us disagree better in everyday life. The activity trains us to change the minds of others with no more than words. It exposes the physics of our differences, even school-age children can use.
Although this education has historically been a mainstay for elites, many graduates have found in the debate the resources to overcome disadvantage. The next US Supreme Court Justice, Ketanji Brown Jacksonof her time as a debater: “I gained a self-confidence that can sometimes be difficult for women and minorities to learn at a young age.”
In practice, few activities are more effective than discussion at exposing flaws in our thinking, and then motivating us to fix them. For this reason, entrepreneurs have sought to capitalize on internal opposition. Investor Warren Buffett He once suggested that company boards appoint two consultants on potential acquisitions — one to defend the deal and one to oppose it. Netflix’s “Culture” note contains the following line: “The bigger the decision, the more inclusive the discussion.”
This is not an innovation. Competitive debate arose from English pubs and coffeehouses which, beginning in the seventeenth century, hosted lively debates about the proceedings of Parliament. Its roots go back to the ancient Greek custom of participation through public speaking.
In the age of polarization we live in, we’ve lost shared values and realities, but we’ve also lost the skills of thoughtful and empathetic argument — and the will to invest in them. As widespread disillusionment with traditional institutions has coincided with a decline in trust in our citizens, the ethic of “finding our people” (and ignoring the rest) has come to prevail.
While thinking about the value of debate in times like these, I find myself returning to the concept of empathy. Lateral switch drills are mirrored in a microcosm that training peers receive. Over the course of a sufficiently long career, the panelists argue both sides on most topical issues. Because they choose neither their side nor the subject, they flirt with ideas, unburdened by expectations of consistency or deep conviction.
Certainly, the ability of the interlocutors to discuss both sides of each issue has its downsides. Everywhere in the public sphere one sees the devastating effect of mercenary rhetoric. Silver-tongued politicians make the art of bowing with the prevailing winds. Unscrupulous media critics are making false comparisons and pushing forward the agenda of the big bidders. In this context, the news that Boris Johnson once penned in an opinion piece in favor of remaining in the EU, as a tool for brainstorming, evokes cynicism and despair. Discussions of the Oxford Union, where Johnson and his peers train, appear online with the disclaimer: “The speaker in this video is a competitive perspective, and therefore the opinions expressed may not necessarily represent their beliefs.”
In fact, most debaters, at some point in their careers, feel skeptical about the ethics of their sport. novelist Sally Rooney wrote in Dublin review On her career as a protagonist: “I no longer find pleasure in thinking about the ways in which capitalism benefits the poor, or the things that the oppressed should do about their oppression. Indeed, I find it frustrating and vaguely immoral.” Some seasoned competitors describe themselves as Hamlet. They are able to see both sides but are unable to commit to either.
I do not believe This debate is counterproductive, but I think it requires us to rethink the term. The traditional view is that strong beliefs are what we bring into the discussion. In debate, convictions are what we get out of such a conversation. The goal is not to protect our past beliefs, but to play and experiment until we find ideas worthy of our commitment. This exploration can lead to confusion and hesitation. It also avoids false clarity of doctrine.
Controversy can empower counterfeiters and opportunists. This aspect of the activity - his penchant for spectacle and insistence on experimentation - requires careful management. But if the debate leads to the graduation of some mercenaries, it also trains the rest of us to recognize and counter their tactics. It immunizes the population against misuse of language and arguments.
I didn’t know any of these things when I found the discussion group at my school. However I felt I might be on the cusp of some great transformation. As I sat on the stage in the assembly hall, scribbling the best arguments for the other side, I felt the distance between me and my opponents begin to narrow. Then, as I stood and faced the quiet silence of the assembled audience, I felt my voice, green and urgent, ready to make itself known.
The art of discord okay by Bo Siu (William Collins, £18.99). You can buy it for £16.52 at guardianbookshop.com