Thursday, October 13, 2011

Thoughts on the nature of debate

I'm one of the few people who can say they honestly enjoy both art and science.  My brain enjoys the science and my heart enjoys the art, and they're in constant disagreement.  I can remember taking a Physics exam and sitting in an empty room with a white board and drawing equations all over the board.  After my head had been in mathematical clouds for awhile, I stood back, and noticed how beautiful the equations were.  The equations made life fit together; they had a "correct" answer; they gave us solutions.  Math really seems to be more black and white.

Art is a completely different concept.  While math tries to capture the truth, it's art that tries to capture beauty.  Art is something you have to see to understand in a relational way.  Christians have been saying for a long time that there is only one definition of art and beauty, but it's funny how they've never been able to present that definition.  Let's face it: even if there is just one definition of art, we haven't found it yet.  Art is something you have to experience for yourself.  If two people view a math problem, one could come up with an "incorrect" and "correct" conclusion; but in art, it's hard to say someone is viewing it "incorrectly".  As sophisticated as we have become, art still maintains its illusive mystique.  

Asking for a definition of good art is like asking your mother when you know you've fallen in love.  She'll just look at you and say, "you'll know it when it happens" (trust me, I've asked).  Art - and perhaps love for that matter - is something that happens to us.  And I don't think we get over it very easily.

Someone asked me the other day if debate is art or science.  In my opinion, good debate is almost totally art form.  I've heard painters say they come alive with a paintbrush.  I think I come alive with a microphone.   It's something that makes me feel alive.

Good debate reminds me that people are not just walking brains.  People's souls - their psyche - have to be persuaded.  Even people who have incredibly high IQ's make decisions on their emotional state.  Good debate and good communication is what reaches a whole person.  You can't debate if you can't understand people.

Debate is letting your ideas be vulnerable in the arena.  My ego is what usually ends up being the casualty in the ring.  I've always wondered why I love a sport that completely rips up my ego.  Perhaps it's because the same sport nurses my ego back to life.

I don't feel like I've really bonded with a person until we have a good argument.  Whether it be in the kitchen over dishes, at my desk, over a cup of coffee, or in the classroom, if my ideas have not been in the ring with another person's ideas, I don't feel like we've truly met.  People who always agree are seldom very interesting company.

Children love to argue, that's why I like them so much.  Most importantly, children are good at arguing about things that are actually important.   Grown-ups argue like politicians.  Children argue like rational human beings.  Grown-ups are still arguing about when life begins; but children don't.  They already know.  They don't need science or politics or books with big words to give them evidence; they go by what makes the most obvious sense in the world.  Grown ups are always questioning their presuppositions; children are the ones who seem to have the firmest foundations.

The better I get at debate, the more simple I've had to become.  Simplicity reminds me that finding the right answer is not as important as asking the right question.  Perhaps my ego needs to become childlike again; something that is tender and willing to grow.

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