For four years, from the time I was 13 until I was 17, my father handed me a jar every night. In the jar were slips of paper on which he’d written topics, things like “NATO treaty”, “capital punishment”, “the existence of God”, etc. Except for those times when he was TDY, I was expected to take one side of the argument on one of these subjects and debate it with him. I couldn’t go to bed until I had made a reasonable case for or against. I never got to choose which side, by the way.
I’m sure people would consider such a thing child abuse nowadays. Perhaps it was, because there were many nights when I was in tears. I was so bloody tired of hearing my father say, “You’re wrong and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” that I could spit.
Yet those debates were invaluable to the person I became. I can wrap my mind around two sides of an argument because that’s the way my brain works now. It’s a handy skill to have as a writer. I think of ideas and concepts as a wall. I’m able to peer over both sides and see that two separate people can hold divergent viewpoints without one of them being stupid or ignorant.
The other day, I was channel surfing and happened onto Toddlers and Tiaras. The way I feel about this show is rather visceral. I don’t like anything about it. But you know what? I wouldn’t call the mothers ignorant. Nor would I call them stupid. I can understand that they do not hold my viewpoint. I don’t share their viewpoint.
One of the fascinating things about my nightly training in debating is that I always lost when I resorted to emotions. I had to learn to push my emotions aside, especially when I was given the task of defending a point of view that was opposite of what I truly felt. The result is that I can distance myself from the feelings of a particular issue with relative ease.
But I understand that other people weren’t subjected to nightly debates like I was. Some people feel that the only way to win an argument is to call others stupid or ignorant. For them, it’s a normal, natural, and a winning strategy to use pejoratives – or resort to emotionality – if other people don’t share their views. That tactic has always struck me as juvenile, and reminds me of grade school. “You’re a stupid pants.”
My thoughts about dealing with those kind of people? I can’t talk to them. I walk away. It’s a better decision than trying to reason with someone who isn’t using reason. For that, I credit my father and the infamous jar. Am I always able to walk away? No, of course not. But when I don’t, I regret it. I hear my father saying in that booming voice of his, “You’re wrong and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” and I roll my eyes.
How do you handle people who resort to name calling when trying to win an argument?