Agree to debate, not disagree

I've been told that I should respect other people's opinions, and so I should, but I've always had a hard time with this concept of agreeing to disagree. I mean, deep down, how can you really agree to disagree if it's more than a matter of arbitrary preference? Like most people, I hold certain beliefs that I think valid because they seem to follow logically from known and obvious facts. It distresses me to see a friend reject one of these beliefs even after I lay before him all of the relevant facts and logical steps that ought to convince a reasonable mind. No matter, convinced against his will, he stays of the same opinion, and I conclude finally that his mind is not entirely open. Some perverse emotion, some deep-seated prejudice or unexamined preconception blinds him to the truth, and I, frustrated, accuse him of bigotry.

"But wait," you say, "That might not be what's going on!" and you'd be right. After all, I used to believe many idiotic things, e.g. that no smart person could actually be bad at math (retracted only two years ago when I started tutoring at the McGraw Center). In this postmodern age, we have ample argument and evidence for relativism and skepticism. Yes, so much of our "rational faculties" is influenced by our rather arbitrary evaluations of certain "goods." Yes, so much of what we regard as "reasonable" or relevant is determined by the climate of opinion in which we grew up. So yes, even if my friend and I are equally reasonable, equally good-willed and aware of the same arguments and evidences, it's entirely possible - or, at least, not obviously impossible - that we reach diverging conclusions.

But what's that supposed to tell us? That we have different hypotheses, both plausible but neither conclusive; that we disagree on the interpretations and weights we attach to different arguments and evidences. It's manifestly wrong to think that the contended statement becomes undecidable simply because two reasonable people can't reach an agreement. We shouldn't give up here and just agree to disagree.

During my International Pre-Orientation, we had a lecture called "U.S.A. 101" in which we were told, among numerous other comical things, to avoid controversial topics in conversation such as politics or religion and that the traffic and the weather were safe and sound substitutes for them. That's a little extreme, but there's certainly a palpable taboo, much more so in the Unitecd States than anywhere else I've been, against having an argument with anyone other than your closest friends. People seem to take it very personally here: To question their opinions is to question who they are.

Whatever the cause of this taboo may be (my best guess being a silly mashing of simplistic interpretations of democratic and egalitarian principles together with political correctness and the desire to avoid all forms of conflict), the results are pretty dangerous.

First, such taboo stifles open-minded and intellectually engaged debates - one of the principal things intellectual liberty exists to promote. Much of the potential value of our community's diversity is wasted due to the far-too-common "Oh-my-God-he's-challenging-her-religious/political/cultural/societal-views" reaction.

Second, without a sustained culture of debating, the intermittent debates are reduced to rhetorical manipulations and populist speeches, as unfortunately seen in the presidential debates this fall or even last week's Singer-D'Souza debate. The democratic system easily lends itself to such demotion, since a rhetorician naturally ends up employing whatever techniques persuade the majority of his audience.

Third, there are issues that cannot avoid being debated, like policy matters. Sure, if one regards the question of the origin of life as mere philosophizing, there's no duty as such to debate it; but in terms of science education policy, the presentation of evolution and "intelligent design" is a serious matter of great consequence. Simply refusing to argue and leaving it up to the democratic process absent of dialogue is anti-intellectual and anti-democratic: Democracy isn't so much about everyone getting a say as much as about everyone being included and involved in a dialogue.

If you are happy to accept all of your senses of good and bad, right and wrong, just and unjust, as the manifestation of your Nietzschean will-to-power, and regard politics as nothing more than a power process, fine; I cannot argue otherwise. If not, then unfortunately, I don't really see an alternative to enduring the frustration and trying harder. On Wednesday, despite my initial cynicism, the Equality Action Network and the Anscombe Society respectably demonstrated in their public debate that it's possible to separate the arguments from the personal characters of their opponents; I only wish that there were more such genuine debates. We shouldn't be too certain about our positions: The issues are often complex, and it'd be intellectually prudent to be cautious and be open to the possibility that our analyses aren't watertight. It's not only consensus that we should embrace; it's disagreement as well - it's pretty much the only thing that occasions us to critically examine our beliefs.

Eric Kang is a physics major from Christchurch, New Zealand. He can be reached at eakang@princeton.edu.