I read the chapter for an argument class that waxes on summarizing or paraphrasing arguments and how to do so. In total contrast to its banality, the author ended with Susan Jacoby’s “First Amendment Junkie.” I encountered it elsewhere but time hasn’t blunted the editorial’s clarity. On a lark, I read the suggested exercise for the chapter. If the professor had assigned it, I would be writing 250-500 words about freedom of speech. Specifically, the author solicits opinions in regard to a hypothetical letter to the editor in a school paper that included a racist/ethnist remark (“deny Arab immigrants entry because they want to destroy America”). He even did some of the work by offering three general responses that reaction letters gave both in favor and against (favor).

For a couple seconds, I considered answering unabashedly, as practice. In my notebook, 350 words is roughly a page and three-fourths. But, I can’t let myself. Obviously, the prospective task tests neither our summarizing ability nor our conclusion. It is practice forming a reasoned argument, how cute. The likely majority of responses suffer from a general lack I sense in argument classes (and some philosophy classes): conveying a sense of a totalized context.

What would I normally write? “Our country was (somewhat) populated by religious exiles. They fled the notion that the beliefs they espoused were spiritually deviant. [Feh, argument from Authority.] We, a more enlightened populace can ignore the intellectually bankrupt rather than censor them.”

Alternately, I can argue the opposite just as easily. “The editors were chosen to ensure a level of quality within the publication that the ethnist letter subverts. Certain acts are impermissible in any society that endeavors to escape self-immolation. [Snore, slippery slope.]  Giving space to similar opinions cultivates the impression that all is encouraged and nothing is forbidden.”

These – and any artificial debate constructed between those two representatives – fails because they are ships passing in the night. Namely, they are trading premises, or selected facts supporting them, without either listening or convincing the other. The pointless exchange happens in every forum’s political/unrelated section. The atheist says “god doesn’t exist;” the theist says it does. (Oh, that is why it is so important that people take these critical thinking classes. They progress past the juvenile mud slinging.) No, not at all. Here they learn about sophist tricks to use and catch opponents invoking; but, no one pursues a totalizing view of the world so as to make lasting decisions. (Nicholas, that is outside the scope of any single class.)

Yes, that is why I pursue a major in History. I am not interested in teaching history (at least not initially). I am not interested in learning the daily routines of the third Ming empress and Charles De Gaul. History, to my mind, presents the simplest means of obtaining a totalizing education.

Consider a ‘perennial problem:’ recreational drugs. Nimrod says, “Addiction drives people to steal and impoverish their families.” Dimwit responds, “Such already happens to alcoholics, even underage alcoholics.” I want these student presentations to involve greater depth. (Presumably they encounter that depth in the books they use to write their research papers.) Fine, permit superficiality as a consequence of impacted time. But, my coworkers, my father argue or exchange complaints about the world at that same level.

I acknowledge that the level of competence I desire for myself and others demands a lifetime of study. Rigorously testing the idea of only legalizing marijuana requires searching out specialized statistics that even congressional commissions and reports summarize. That constitutes the reply to ‘read a book about it.’ Which book do I read? The great majority present facts and eloquent arguments in support of a specific thesis. Any student of history knows this bias as Historicism. To my understanding, a totalizing view can counteract, or at least indicate the level of compensation required to mitigate limited viewpoints.

I am not the only person to desire a totalizing reference. Consider the Utilitarian, who survives in the mainstream under the aegis, “do the greatest good for the greatest number.” Obviously, that is a gross simplification of the philosophy. Still, generally utilitarians should subscribe to a periodical of the sort I imply. If I am to spread the fruit of my labor to those who most benefit from it, it is imperative that I be able to compare the (universal) return of donations to surgically correcting cleft lips versus paying for African’s school supplies. Yet, previous searches returned nothing. (Perhaps, the problem is my search term.) Nevertheless, without a central (usually liberal), comparative encyclopedia, the utilitarian relies on the inefficient osmosis his social circle offers. (Hey, check out this new NGO I learned about.) For any committed Utilitarian, the philosophy represents a rejection of suboptimal charity schemes that typify factionalized altruists (communists, Christians).

This post can not end effectively. (Unfortunately?) I am self-aware enough to know I did what I discourage: declare my core belief and bid you adopt it. (Well, attitudes are rather hard to measure and correlate against ‘decadant’ societies.)

Learn all you can about an issue before forming (arguing) an opinion about it.

Oh, but I don’t have time to learn about minutia. This particular Aspect ought to shock you into agreement anyway.

Well, here is an opposing (limited) set of facts to counter-balance your own. Is this really an effective way to learn about contrasting facts? We are in an arena where one is called to integrate and respond to them with short notice. Sure, we could go home and research the other’s citations, but wouldn’t I have done that if I were interested beforehand?

Well at least more facts are aired in these situations than people otherwise encounter.

But the presentation is somewhat jarringly structured. Who are we informing, a mythical ‘undecided’ person? Those who hold – comparatively – weaker convictions will more likely hear soothing arguments to support their initial feelings than use this as an opportunity to rethink the issue entirely, especially with the hectic pace of conversation.

You short-changed my side of the argument there, reflecting your own bias, Nicholas. You haven’t transcended your position because yours isn’t neutral. Despite dismissing the ‘for or against’ positions to the question of free speech as superficial, your entire thesis revolves around examining all facts and interpretations of those facts. You can’t bootstrap yourself beyond the dualistic answers via any logocentric dialog.

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