Debates as logic
When defining a logical system, amongst other things, we define axioms and inference rules. From the application of the latter to the first, we aim to prove validity of statements in that logical framework, the holy grail of that process, the true goal of that ultimate quest, being the sanctified tautology, a statement true in itself (although bound by the system, but not dependent on any other), a stable result, unquestionable. The parallel between this structure and that of an argument, taken in the sense of a discussion, could not be clearer: speakers argue for certain ideas (their axioms) to be considered, and, through applications of inference rules to that newly found common ground, both aim for the tautology, a statement the other cannot refuse, a conclusion going their way. And, of course, the meat, the heart, of the debate truly is the vivid game of “attacking” and “defending” one’s axioms that ensues, done through evocation of counterexamples, meta-proofs of contradiction, so on and so forth. But why is it then that so many debaters focus on the inference rules instead?
Indeed, a great amount of discourse, notably coming from contrarians, seems not to focus on debating statements, assertions, but proving the opponent’s inference to be wrong, ill-willed, and thereby not claiming anything of their own, no weight to bear themselves, simply attacking the assumed stability of the opposed discourse. I present here my (very surface-level) understanding of that phenomenon, argue for a looser, non-formal understanding of what a debate is, and tell you why I believe such a behaviour to be dangerous to discussions as a whole.
Logic of debates
First of all, let us consider that formal logic parable once again. I argue this focus on structure misses the point of real debate. In a previous essay (although written in godforsaken French), I considered a list of characteristics any interaction must obtain for them to earn that title. Most are irrelevant to our matter, but one of them is essential for us: debaters address a double discourse, directed towards both their opponent and the audience, attempting to convince the latter. Notice how the opponent can also themselves be part of the audience, making cases of debates behind closed doors still compatible with that criterion.
I have to say, however, that this definition is not ideal, but practical: it helps characterise what many debates end up nowadays going for. Listen to any political roundtable, for instance; for people represent parties and ideas they are not themselves allowed to concede to adverse arguments, and thus often playing deaf. The debate cannot be happening for them to change their mind. Crucially, this results in this double discourse being unbalanced, where debate between opponents is more akin to a demonstration, a play, rather than an actual discussion, of which the real point is to convince the audience.
Logic in debates
But convincing the audience of what? Suppose there is an election, with two parties, the “Classicalists” and the “Intuitionist”. Classicalists could either try to convince the audience of accepting its axioms or rejecting the ones Intuitionists argue for. But, there is another more insidious option: presenting the Intuitionist narrative, i.e. argumentation, as unreasonable, contradictory, illogical. And to do so, Classicalists would not aim for the throat of axioms Intuitionists defend anymore, but their goal would instead be to show that the inference rules Intuitionists apply to them are invalid. This would make Intuitionists appear unstable; and soon questions follow: yes, I may agree with their premisses, but how can I be sure they will derive the right conclusion from them? What good is there in someone defending what I believe if they do wrong with it?
And what I believe is that this argument is even stronger than advocating for axioms of your own. As mentioned before, it doesn’t involve commitment to any ideas, it allows to present oneself as the great keeper of the well-order of the discussion, the repeller of all subtle fallacies and simplifications, an arbiter of sort, granting authority on the debate, even though one is still a participant. And all this can hardly be viewed in a negative light: serious debate should be kept to an upmost standard of validity, who would want to listen to politicians who don’t even make sense? It is then completely possible, understandable, (and, here, sadly, the parable leaks heavily into reality) to have Classicalists uniquely attack Intuitionists’ inferences, without presenting, nor defending, their own axioms, once again messing with the balance of the debate. An empty side of to the scale keeping an eye on it.
Debates for logic
But much like in logic itself, where language and meta-language must crucially be different, axioms and inferences, one’s premisses and argumentation, lie on different levels, they cannot blend. And focusing on inference rules is forgetting they only apply to the discourse itself, whereas the axioms apply to the concrete, in our case, to actual lives. In short, debating about the validity of an argumentation is really only debating about the debate, not what the debate is about.
One of the consequences of this meta-ification of debates is that they become far remote from people who do not typically engage in verbal jousts. Debates, and a fortiori most politics, get more and more estranged from those who care about the axioms, about life. This can be clearly observed in the upbringing of political figures, more often than not trained in communication and media, rather than spontaneously defending what they take at heart. Now, I perfectly understand one might prefer this “seriousness” for politics, though I personally do not agree, for the main goal of a traditional politician is representing their people, and this clear divide seems to contradict that first principle. Now, it might be a good time to remind ourselves that all of this was a specific case. We are still talking about debates in general. This political is but one of the ugly implications of how we treat discussions.
All that being said, what possible view of debates would help us avoid those issues? Well, a first approach would be to focus on what participants argue for. Notably, in our previous account, there is nothing stopping us from considering a debate between two participants holding the same world view. As long as they argue and try to convince, it would still be a debate, and for they might never criticise the other’s position (as it is their own) no contradiction would blatantly appear. I believe it is thus essential to keep in mind what participants defend (even implicitly) to grow healthy debates, and, as a plus, avoid unnecessary ones, the likes of what we just mentioned.
In the end, sometimes, the better definition is the simplest, the most intuitive one, even though it might be devoid of a bullet-proof logical structure, it still is what someone might initially believe in. Can those play-like discussions really claim the title of debate? Language, being, progress, disease, the self, and many more, all simple notions seemingly impossible to define, yet of which we seem to have a never-failing intuition. Why not add debate to that list? And why not process them with that same intrinsic feeling? Rather than aiming for bullet-proof argumentation, speak of what resonates, of what someone might be willing to fight for.