deliberation

The Quality of Our Public Discourse: A Closer Look at the Shortcomings of the First Presidential Debate of 2020

October 8, 2020 by Kyle Broxton Leave a Comment

A little over one week ago, more than seventy-million people witnessed what is commonly referred to as the first “debate” of the 2020 United States presidential election. Throughout the event, the two participants used every opportunity to interrupt, criticize, and crosstalk with each other as well as the moderator. By one count, President Donald Trump interrupted the moderator or his opponent 71 times in 90 minutes; former Vice President Joe Biden did so 22 times. In the days following the event, near-universal criticism centered around the overall failure of the participants to respect each other, each other’s viewpoints, and the rules of the “debate.” But why are we in general agreement that this “debate” was unproductive? Is there something fundamental about this form of discourse that explains where the two presidential candidates fall short of what should have been expected?

It is important to know that many forms of discourse—debates included—are rule-based. Rules are especially important for adversarial forms of discourse as they serve to mitigate the inclination for participants to make rapid, emotionally charged remarks as opposed to articulate, objective arguments. An example of this kind of rule is one mandating that interruptions be kept at a minimum. As this did not occur on September 29th, it follows that the quality of the “debate,” insofar as it involved free and open participation, was poor.

Discourse ethics identifies respect as another indicator of a quality discourse. Respect can be divided into two distinct indicators, respect toward the participants as well as the arguments employed by the participants. Despite the significant difference in political opinions between Mr. Trump and Mr. Biden, the existing norms of presidential debates suggest that they should highlight these differences while maintaining respect for one another and the arguments that each uses. To show respect for one’s fellow debater does not take the form of many of the remarks the candidates made, such as “there’s nothing smart about you,” or “will you shut up, man?” And to respect the arguments the other has made—though admittedly difficult in the context of the event—is nonetheless possible. For example, one debater could recognize the motivations behind the other’s arguments, while still disagreeing with their construction or importance. When participants show such mutual respect, debates can be more ethical and productive.

Recognizing the importance of following the rules of a debate makes it obvious why the exchange between the two candidates was found to be as problematic as it was. A failure to adhere to the rules results in these indicators of a quality discourse being substituted with frequent interruptions, personal attacks, and antagonism towards each other’s views.

Though the Commission on Presidential Debates (CDP) specified that “the moderator [would] regulate the conversation so that thoughtful and substantive exchanges would occur,” the moderator himself, Chris Wallace of Fox News, admitted he had not been prepared for Trump’s behavior. Ultimately, the quality of the debate left the CDP open to adding more structure “to ensure a more orderly discussion.”

This is to be expected should the goal of these presidential debates be to identify the candidate with the stronger arguments, a goal that cannot be fulfilled if the candidates cannot speak without being interrupted. Furthermore, respect toward the opponent’s argument can only be met if the speaker acknowledges the argument to begin with. Therefore, calls for additional structure in future presidential debates—in the form of muting mics upon interruption or requiring that candidates respond directly and respectfully to the preceding arguments of their opponent—are made in the interest of productive and quality discourse.

Debate and Deliberation: Commonalities and Contrasts Through the Lens of the First Presidential Debate of 2020

October 1, 2020 by Cadie McNaboe Leave a Comment

By Cadie McNaboe, DCI Fellow

On September 29^th, countless Americans tuned in to watch the first presidential debate between President Donald Trump and Former Vice President Joe Biden. For those who persevered through the antagonistic comments and arguments with the moderator, Fox News anchor Chris Wallace, it was clear that it was impossible to call the back and forth exchange a deliberation, and unlikely to term it a debate. NBC anchor Lester Holt, right after the debate had closed said, “If hearing that this debate is over was music to your ears, you may not be alone … I’m at a bit of a loss for words here to describe what we’ve just witnessed.” I stand in agreement with him.

While this is only my third round of presidential debates (that I remember-it’s distinctly possible my parents set me in front of the TV to watch the debates as a child), my years of competing in debate taught me about the rigidity and rules of debating, none of which were present in this debate. The DCI defines debate as structured discourse that is oriented towards highlighting differences and exposing weaknesses; with previous presidential debates, it also has been utilized to signify an alignment towards policy and an opportunity for a “winner” to emerge through their use of political prose and powerful rhetoric. This debate, with its insults, interruptions, and cross-talk intended only to derail the moderator’s questioning, should be considered more of a reality-TV scene than anything else.

Deliberation, on the other hand, has something else to offer the American public. Based on cooperation rather than competition, deliberation seeks to build collective and individual understanding, and works to bridge the divides across the political spectrum so frequently apparent at the national level. Going beyond the constraints of debate’s binary pro-con style, deliberation calls for good-faith arguments, ones that seeks to understand our commonalities rather than our differences.

Through deliberation, with its use of an active facilitator, connections can be woven, and viewpoints can be shared through the strategic use of stories, statistics, productive cross-talk and thoughtful consideration of new perspectives beyond our own. This non-adversarial approach builds on the unique perspectives each deliberator holds, and their inherent power to share their perspective with others.

Deliberation also stands to provide an opportunity to enable action after its closing. In a debate, participants would shake hands (pre-COVID), get the judge’s feedback and “scoresheets” and then proceed to move to the next topic of concern. Instead of positing a temporary topic of concern, deliberation allows and encourages voluntary action as a relevant part of the deliberative process. Communication around these contentious issues is essential but does little without action tied to it.

This is why after each D-Team meeting or deliberative forum, the DCI sends out Beyond the Deliberation, a compilation of tangible action pathways for participants to consider if they feel inspired to pursue any of them. These pathways, with ways to get informed, get connected, and get involved, contribute to the autonomy of each deliberator, who can individually and collectively continue the work our democracy requires. After watching the first presidential debate, it’s easy to feel unsure about the state of our country, but if instead of a reason to forfeit anything related to politics, we must use that debate as a call for cooperation as a collective response. If we do that, then we are empowered and also well positioned to begin the lifelong work of deliberation and action – for the benefit of ourselves and our democracy.

A Democracy Worth Pursuing

September 24, 2020 by Tyler McLaren Leave a Comment

By Tyler McLaren, DCI Fellow

John Locke, a founding philosopher of liberalism, offered that, “Men being, as has been said, by nature, all free, equal and independent, [cannot] be […] subjected to the political power of another, without his own consent.” Why is it then, that in our American society, which is built upon liberalism and where this ideology is so highly regarded, so many citizens have abandoned their right to make their voices heard, to vote and to engage in civil discourse, when the result is a complete forfeiture of power to a government that does not serve their interests? Why would anyone give up this power and self-agency?

One may advance the common belief that our elected officials in Washington have not listened to the American people for decades, and that political engagement is a lost cause given the government’s complexity and polarization. Simply put, it is not the American people who have given up on democracy—the government has.

Dr. Daniel Layman, Assistant Professor of Philosophy at Davidson College, offers that there is a favorable alternative to current practice both in Monday’s “Deliberation Nation – Why Deliberative Democracy is our Best Option” lecture and in his peer reviewed article, Robust Deliberative Democracy.

Layman contends that if we choose to deliberate with our fellow citizens on policy issues, instead of participating in the bargaining and bickering which has become the norm, we all have a say in politics, we all exercise our right to be equal and independent, and we are all truly free. Democracy is a team effort, and if we are to save it from apathy, disengagement, marginalization, and polarization, no players can be on the sidelines.

Skeptical? I was too before Layman moved from a utopian depiction of deliberative democracy to expose us to two core problems with deliberative democracy, which he then refuted— restoring faith in his argument, and by extension, the likelihood that we could pull this off.

First, there is a knowledge problem. If the average citizen does not know the name of their senator, what makes us think they have the knowledge to debate about contentious issues in our country? Deliberative democracy, however, does not require excessive knowledge —it is based on moral deliberation. Morals are plentiful and diverse in the American polis. We should therefore be able to define the moral parameters within which acceptable policy can be made.

Second, there is the incentive problem. Many Americans have little incentive to take politics seriously and are disinclined to devote time, energy, and resources to a political process that yields little in their favor. Yet deliberative democracy does not ask citizens to abandon their own self-interest in favor of others. Instead, it asks our citizens to conceptualize their self-interest and their ability to voice their needs as centrally dependent on their freedom from arbitrary government or others’ personal wills. It makes little logical sense, then, why anyone would subject themself to such unfreedom, under this assumption.

With a strong case as to why deliberative democracy is not just manageable, but worth managing, we must begin thinking about how we can make it possible for our citizens to begin “sharing reasons” with one another and accepting others’ offerings to arrive at some common ground first, and then the most rationally supported policy becomes possible. Efforts promoting deliberation are a good start, but are often limited to those fortunate enough to receive a college education. If deliberative democracy is to work, everyone must be invited to the table. Deliberative forums must be accessible, inviting, and come at no cost to the participants. Deliberation cannot privilege those who fit the mold of what politics is “supposed” to look like; everyone must have the ability to express their reason in their own way. For this reason, I’m excited about the DCI’s current efforts and future plans to partner with local organizations to host deliberation opportunities for all members of our community, regardless of their background.

Although there is much work to be done, I have faith in the American people’s ability to find common ground not because they have to, but because it is important to their freedom.

Party Conventions and…Deliberation?

August 27, 2020 by Graham Bullock Leave a Comment

For those who have watched any of the Democratic and Republican National Conventions over the past two weeks, the notion of deliberative citizenship was probably not the first thing that came to mind. Facing the realities of the current pandemic, these events have completed their transformation into fully ritualized and performative exercises for the parties involved. This process began decades ago, arguably first with the decision to broadcast the convention live on the radio in 1924 and on television in 1940.¹ It was then accelerated by the primary/caucus system that made the outcomes of the conventions all but pre-determined.

But conventions have not always been so staged and predictable – the first Democratic Convention heard over the radio in 1924 required 103 ballots to determine its nominee (JohnDavis) and the first televised GOP Convention in 1940 nominated a surprise “dark horse” candidate (Wendell Wilkie).² Some commentators have lamented the loss of the deliberative element of conventions that drove this unpredictability but enabled a broader range of the party faithful to engage with one another on the future of their party.³ Before conventions were organized in the 1830s, presidential nominees were selected by each party’s congressional delegation of senators and representatives.⁴

Even the first conventions, however, were constrained by efforts to project unity and unanimity in preparation for the coming general election. The Chairman of the 1835 Democratic Convention, for example, asked for the proceedings to be “marked by a spirit of the utmost harmony and union” and that delegates “be willing to sacrifice all personal predilections and preferences.”⁵

Given these dynamics, how can we make sense of the role of party conventions? In theory, they are designed to enable parties and their members to exercise the three forms of civic agency that Danielle Allen outlines – “disinterested deliberation, prophetic frame shifting, and fair fighting.”⁶ They bring together people who share at least some interests to listen to each other and collectively plot a path forward, in terms of ideology, policy, and electoral strategy. They provide a platform for them to then share their vision with the broader public, and to continue the process of fighting – ideally following ethical norms of fairness – to win at the ballot box.

In reality, however, these forms of civic agency can often be in tension. Some prophecies may create strategic problems or not be accessible to deliberative exploration; deliberation can be seen as hampering the process of both frame-shifting and election-winning; and the short-term focus on racking up wins may undermine both deliberative and prophetic efforts. Great prophets may not make good deliberators or good strategists; great deliberators may have an aversion to both prophetic declarations and political battles, and great fighters may not always see the utility of either deliberation or prophecy.

Given these tensions, conventions may have bit off more than they could chew, and it was perhaps inevitable that they would shed at least one of these civic functions. Deliberation was the natural one to go, particularly as advances in communication technology enabled long-distance coordination on party priorities. Deliberation also can project a sense of discord and dissension among the ranks. Party members can deliberate with each other in person, over the phone, or now over Zoom – why do they need to do it at a convention?

But the unfortunate reality is that such “grassroots” deliberation is not that common. Polls have found that only 1 out of 4 people discussed politics in the last week with family or friends, over half have stopped talking about politics with someone and find it stressful and frustrating to talk about politics with people they disagree with, and nearly two-thirds feel the political climate prevents them from saying things they believe.⁷

This is a problem because democracy, in short, needs deliberation. It needs it not only between those who deeply disagree, but also among those who at least appear to agree on many things. Done poorly or ended prematurely, it can indeed reveal and exacerbate sources of tension and conflict. But done well, deliberation enables us to understand the experiences, emotions, and reasons that underlie each other’s political positions. It provides us with a space where we can share our prophetic commitments and can reveal to us why we should fight fairly with one another. And it compels us to seek out and implement new solutions that address all of our concerns, not just our own. But it takes time and planning, and it often seems expedient to prioritize action over talk.

Both talk and action are important, and sometimes action needs to come before talk. But it is also important to realize that talk can also be a form of action, and it is necessary to create any real sense of unity, whether it is within an organization, a school, a party, or a nation. Without such unity born out of meaningful deliberation, any action we take risks being reversed by those we never spent the time to truly talk with. And such lack of unity creates the conditions for the implementation of policies that threaten our democratic freedoms under the pretense of an illegitimate demand for order and a false claim of fraternity.

So conventions may not be, and may never have been, the best way to foster such deliberation, but we still need to find, or create, the forums in which we – as party members, as citizens, as human beings – can productively deliberate with one another. Our democracy depends on it.

Picture above from Cornell University Library