Public ideas
Two ideas on public discourse
Two writers from different perspectives remind us that the tone of our rhetoric has consequences and involves moral choices.
The murder of Charlie Kirk, and the reactions to his murder, have brought forth an impassioned flow of opinions about the principle of free speech and the norms that should govern public discourse.
Suzi Jamil, writing in Michael Liffman’s Substack Beyond the Faultlines asks how much the tone of political rhetoric has contributed to the rise of political violence, particularly in the USA: When debate turns deadly: Charlie Kirk and the fragility of free speech. She summarizes the process in one paragraph:
When politicians or commentators paint their opponents as enemies of the nation, traitors, or existential threats, they may not intend to invite violence. Yet framing opponents in dehumanising terms carries consequences. If an adversary is not merely wrong but evil, corrupt, or dangerous, then stopping them by any means can feel justified.
The resulting atmosphere of outrage and hostility to the adversary has a chilling effect on public discourse. This can take the form of formal cancellation, or self-censorship among commentators.
She suggests that progressives and conservatives alike are subject to such muzzling. Perhaps this is in the academic style of avoiding any hint of partisanship, but those who control the mass media, and those who are surrounded by protective security when they mount the pulpit, have less to fear when they make inflammatory or hateful comments, as Trump did himself at Kirk’s memorial service. Such asymmetry is bound to arouse feelings of frustration and anger among those who do not have so much power or protection.
Another piece of writing on a related line is by Mark Stephens in his Eureka Street article The problem with comparing everything to Hitler. He reminds us of Godwin’s Law: “As a discussion on the Internet grows longer, the likelihood of a person being compared to Hitler or another Nazi, increases”.
Calling someone a Nazi or a Fascist is a resort to the ad hominem form of discourse, which focuses on the character of the person, rather than what he or she is saying. Avoiding ad hominem attacks is, or should be, a basic rule in public discourse. (It also allows the speaker to avoid referring to specific distinguishing aspects of Nazism and Fascism – they’re different.)
Stephens makes the further point that a focus on Hitler, or whoever replaces him as our model of evil (there are plenty of contenders), steers us towards framing our arguments in terms of what we dislike. “What happens to us when we know who we hate more than what we love?” he asks.
Even if we do not sink to ad hominem attacks, such a concentration contributes to a way of thinking about public policy in terms of what it should not be, rather than what it should be. The latter approach compels us to be clear about the principles behind our preferences. It’s much easier to mount moral arguments against bad public policy than it is to propose morally sound good public policy.
A reader’s comment on early education
An expert on education qualifies the ideas presented in this “public ideas” section in last week’s roundup.
In last week’s roundup there was a post Rules for reformers, about three case studies of policy reform, published in Inflection Points. One of the case studies was about re-establishing “phonics” in school education, in contrast to the “whole language” approach.
A lecturer in education has written, disputing the idea that phonics overtaking whole language learning is a successful reform, and has referred to a research article by Jill Blackmore of Deakin University, A closed circuit of influence: evidence, the science of learning and education learning, This article is highly critical of the “phonics” push, and of the approach taken in the reform described in Inflection Points article.
The article referred to in the roundup was about the reform process, rather than the merits or otherwise of the reforms. The comment from the education lecturer does raise a question about the word “reform”, which generally has a normative meaning, particularly from those responsible for policy change.