Ars Argumentem

An Articulation of My Aims and Methods

This week in my Creative Writing class, we discussed how to write about difficult topics, whether personal or political. Regarding the latter, I advised my students to think about audience.

In my unpublished textbook for the class, A Work in Progress, I write:

As writers, whether poets, fiction writers, or essayists, we don’t live in a vacuum, and we have to decide how we’re going to situate ourselves with regard to the controversies of the day. Are we going to ignore them or engage them? If we engage them, do we do so directly or indirectly? And who are we going to engage with? Are we going to rally the forces or try to make converts? Are we going to write to those in the middle whom we think we might be able to sway or are we going to try and shore up the resolve of those with whom we already agree?

I explained to my class yesterday that the latter course, “preaching to the choir,” is not an ignoble one, despite the pejorative use of that term. Choirs are composed of humans, and humans, even devout ones, need support. When the pastor preaches to the choir, he is helping to strengthen their resolve, soothe their doubts. That’s important stuff.

But it made me think and/or rethink my experience over the past few weeks posting political opinions leading up to the elections. Why was I doing it, and who was my intended audience?¹

Was I trying to shore up support for Trump among the already convinced? Was I trying to convince independents? Or was I trying to change the mind of diehard Trump haters?²

I suppose part of me was, indeed, preaching to the choir, and part of me did, in fact, hope to sway some independents. But I don’t think either was the main reason for my posts.

I think³ what I wanted to accomplish was not to convince anyone of anything other than the following: a decent, well-educated, well-meaning, intelligent person could support Trump. To what extent I succeeded in that is debatable, but that’s what my aim was.

The decency I tried to model in my tone. The well-meaningness and intelligence in my substance.⁴

Though by substance, I don’t mean “research.” I was not engaged in constructing researched arguments but in explicating my state of mind as it currently exists based on everything I’ve learned through reading, watching, and lifelong observation. Again, my aim was not to convince anyone of anything other than that a reasonable person could support Trump.

---

Why did I feel the need to do that?

Because I’d witnessed since 2016 pundits, intellectuals, scholars, colleagues, and everyday internet folks assert over and again that Trump supporters were uneducated, uninformed, racist, bigoted, homophobic “deplorables.” And because I was so intimidated by such characterizations that I kept my conservatism and support of Trump hidden from all but family and the closest of friends.

And I didn’t like that everyone from my fellow professors to other writers to literary agents felt free to post their politics (literally) on their doors, profess them in the classroom, and post them online while I had to keep my political leanings hidden like some shameful perversion.

So I came out, and like many people who come out, I spent some time celebrating and advertising this hidden part of myself and then went about trying to convince others that I’m just like them.

Maybe that’s not such an amazing strategy, now that I think about it. . . .

---

One temptation in such a case is to spend all one’s time and energy celebrating one’s suppressed identity. That’s not what I intend to do, though it may look like it to some readers. I hope to get back to talking about Judaism, literature, and comic books soon, and I have some ideas about columns on depression and health.

But if you can’t write about politics in the weeks leading up to and following this historical election cycle, when can you?

---

On debating

Another issue I’ve faced in posting these notes is how to respond to those who disagree with me. Again, I’ve tried to maintain a stance throughout of this is just how I think. I could be wrong, but I don’t feel like I’m wrong. And I just want you to see that people like me exist and are not hateful, uneducated, and stupid.

In rare cases, I’ve had positive exchanges with people who disagree with my political notes. But mostly not. More often, they go like this.

Me: I believe X.

Them: That’s ridiculous, absurd, stupid, ignorant.

Me: Explain why.

Them: Here’s a list of reasons and some articles to read.

Me: I see. I’m familiar with some/much/all of that argument. I still feel the way I do for X reasons.

Them: You can’t possibly believe what you just said. You’re either “intellectually dishonest” or “in denial” or just a venial person.

Me: You’re making this personal. I’d like to discuss this politely.

Them: Fine, sorry. I’m sure you’re a nice person. Here’s why you are wrong. Here are some more articles to read.

Me: I’m familiar with these arguments. I disagree for the following reasons.

Them: You are deluded! You are ignorant! You’re a fool! You know nothing about history/politics/civics. You’re an “f-ing old man!

Me: You’re blocked or ignored.

I’ve tried to make sense out of why this happens.

Am I, indeed, in the wrong business? Do I “need to get a new hobby?” as one such person suggested? Should I stay in my lane (religion, philosophy, literature, comics)? Are these just trolls winding me up? Are they projecting onto me their own partisanship/intellectual dishonesty/mental illness?

I’m honestly not sure. What I do believe, though, is that I’ve allowed myself to get sucked into arguments that go nowhere and accomplish nothing other than getting me (and presumably the other writer) worked up.

And I don’t have time for that. I have a wife, a child, a dog, a job, bills, writing, and a ukulele all calling for my attention, and why should I devote any of it to sparring with people I don’t even know, many of whom want to hurt me in some way because I disagree with them?

---

I’m still trying to figure this out because I want to be engaged with my audience, such as it is, and, if possible, to model proper argument.

In my view, proper argument involves stating premises and explicating logically what conclusions you draw from them. Sometimes, it involves appeals to authority, i.e., citing sources, but not always. Proper argument involves stating your views honestly and with humility and being, theoretically at least, open to being proven wrong.

I can see no role whatsoever for any form of ad hominem attack. Here are a few categories of that that crop up frequently:

Assertion of Ignorance: You don’t agree me; therefore, you are uninformed.

If you think your opponent is insufficiently informed, you can certainly point that out and explain why, but if they do not accept your counter-evidence or do not have time to read every article they foist on you, calling them ignorant is not a proper tactic.

And it is especially improper to impute ignorance simply because someone disagrees with you. That is arrogant and is, itself, uninformed. How do you know what I’ve read, watched, studied, observed?

And, besides, I can guarantee any reader this: Whatever source you provide or expert you cite supporting your assertion, I can, if given the time, provide counter-evidence and point to experts better educated on the topic than both of us who would agree with me.⁵

Assertion of Dishonesty: Your opinion is diametrically opposed to mine, and, therefore, you are lying to yourself or me.

To assert that someone is lying to you or is “in denial” because they look at the same evidence as you and come to a different conclusion feels to me, itself, like a form of intellectual dishonesty.

I understand the impulse but try not to indulge it.

I have a friend to whom I have often expressed my inability to understand how people on the left can look at things so differently than I do. I’ve even proposed to her we do a podcast to explore this because she is on the left and though we like and respect each other, we see things very differently.

It’s maddening sometimes, I get it. But, frustrating as it is, I accept it.

You, for example, can believe that a man can menstruate, which, to me, is a logical contradiction of terms and a complete denial of reality. Yet if I were to debate you on this, I wouldn’t, I hope, call you crazy or dishonest or uninformed or a menace to society.

Assertions of Mental Incapacity: Your opinions are so vile they must represent either a low IQ or your capture by a “cult of personality” or by “patriarchy” or by “succumbing to misinformation, listening to Joe Rogan” or some such thing.

People who make such assertions seem to assume they are smarter than you, more mentally healthy than you, and somehow better able to detect and resist “outside influences.” They have no basis, other than their disagreement, for any of these beliefs.

Assertions of Hatefullness: Some people seem to believe they can see into the souls of others—or they are so convinced of the logic and truth of their position they can only believe someone who contradicts them does so out of a fundamental flaw in their character ranging from a pathological lack of empathy to outright hatefulness.

Again, one is tempted to attribute this to projection, but then that would be mind-reading on my part. Regardless, we must accept that we cannot read motive out of argument. We must assume that people argue from good faith, otherwise, what’s the point?

And here, I guess, I would have to ask my detractors, if you believe I’m ignorant, dishonest, in denial, hateful, why argue with me? If I felt the same about you, I would ignore you.⁶

---

How do I respond to such attacks?

My basic rule of thumb is that when I feel that the other person is trying to goad me—or has goaded me—into making personal attacks against them, when I start fantasizing about all the clever and hurtful things I could say to them, it’s time to end the conversation and probably to block them.

Blocking is necessary to free my mind of such toxic dialogue and, frequently, because such people try to demand attention. Even as they call me dishonest, venial, uninformed, and deluded, they urge, even beg, me to continue the debate. Again, I don’t know if that’s trolling, pathology, or just something I don’t get.

---

One is tempted to drop the politics altogether. But, of course, maybe that’s the real aim of the ad-hominem attackers, to get people they disagree with to, as they would—and sometimes do—say “STFU.”

I think a lot of people STFU because of it. I don’t think that’s a good thing.

I don’t want to spend much more time on politics or the art of argument, but I write about what’s on my mind, and that’s on my mind, and all the STFUppery in the world is not going to change that, I hope.

And that’s about all I have to say for now. Peace out.

1. Questions that more than one reader posed to me.

2. Which, obviously, would have been tilting at windmills.

3. One reader recently attacked me, “You sure say ‘I think’ a lot; I guess you don’t know anything!” Another accused me of writing as though I knew everything.

4. Though, TBH, I also considered my credentials some evidence of this, which is to say that, though there are people who have gone to better schools than I and gotten more degrees, I’m certainly in the upper 98th percentile of educated persons in America, having graduated from Vassar College (BA), New York University (MA) and the University of Chicago (PhD) and that ought to count for something—at least among my fellow elites.

5. This is the problem with “expertise,” which I hope someday to write about.

6. Is it because you’re worried about my “influence?” You want to publicly expose my inanity? Really? Me with my 550 subscribers? Aren’t there richer target environments for you to bomb?