There really ought to be some sort of remedial civics licensing course for the David Ignatiuses of the world.

A Guantanamo detainee is "transported" by two officers. Is torture merely a matter of public policy?

Here’s the pundit’s latest in the Washington Post. It’s about Katheryn Bigelow’s new film Zero Dark Thirty, her “almost journalistic” account of the hunt for Osama bin Laden.

Note that in his entire article, not once does Ignatius offer even a single word about whether torture is legal (hint: it is not). For people like Ignatius, the law is just irrelevant. It doesn’t even enter into his policy calculations. It’s simply not part of his world. Here’s his summation:

Here’s the bottom line, at least for me: We should oppose torture because it’s wrong, not because it doesn’t work. Perhaps the courier’s trail could have been found through other means; we’ll never know. President Obama was right to ban torture, but the public must understand that this decision carries a potential cost in lost information. That’s what makes it a moral choice.

We should oppose torture because it’s wrong, but it’s irrelevant whether it’s illegal? And “President Obama was right to ban torture?” Well then, shouldn’t the president also ban rape, murder, arson, and embezzlement? After all, under the Constitution, laws are made by presidential decree. Some presidents permit such practices; others prohibit them, exactly as the Constitution provides. Right?

It’s hard to imagine anything (beyond Obama’s spurious “ban” itself) that could better cement in the public mind the notion that torture is a policy choice, not a crime. And that America is a nation under the rule of men, not of laws.

There must be something insidiously seductive about torture for it to cause such monumental illogic, willful ignorance, and mis-focused priorities. Next to the baseline fact that torture is illegal, torture’s ability to recruit the minds of people like Ignatius into arguing that in America, the law should have no meaning, is an excellent reason to oppose it.

Public domain photo by Navy Petty Officer 1st Class Michael Billings.

Defense Secretary Leon Panetta wants you to be scared.

In a letter to Senators Lindsey Graham and John McCain, Panetta warned that after possible cuts in the military budget, “we would have the smallest ground force since 1940, the smallest number of ships since 1915, and the smallest Air Force in its history.”

Which would be pretty damn bad… if we wound up having to go to war with America’s 1940 army, 1915 navy, or some historical version of America’s Air Force. If we’re lucky, though, and don’t have to go to war with past incarnations of our military, Panetta’s comparison is logically nearly irrelevant. In fact, even the most massive cuts currently under consideration would return American military spending only to 2007 levels. So as long as we don’t have to go to war with our 2007 military, we should be okay.

If Panetta had been interested in logical relevance, though, he wouldn’t have referred to the past at all. He would have focused on the present, and in the present, we spend more on our military than the rest of the world spends combined. And we spend more than five times more on our military than the second biggest military spender, which is China (numbers 3 and 4 are France and the UK, American allies).

But Panetta doesn’t want you to know these numbers. If you did, you might laugh at him when he describes military cuts as meaning “doomsday” for America.

That’s right. According to Panetta, returning to 2007 military spending levels, and still spending about as much as the rest of the world combined — means doomsday for America. Shit, I’m laughing at him right now.

The rest of Panetta’s Very Scary Letter is equally misleading. “You cannot buy three quarters of a ship or a building,” he warns. Well, true, three quarters of a ship wouldn’t be very useful. I mean, it would be like three quarters of a bullet, or something! But you could settle for, I don’t know, say, nine out of the twelve new ships you wanted — three quarters overall. Either Panetta is too stupid to know this, or he’s hoping the public is too stupid to notice it for him.

The closest Panetta comes to anything specific about America’s defense needs is to note that cuts would be bad for contractors. At which point, you start to get a feel for what really drives him and who he really represents.

When a spokesperson for a cause invents arguments as irrelevant and scaremongering as Panetta’s, while ignoring relevant data and reasoned argument, you can safely conclude you are being bullshitted. It’s long past time that Americans understood the military is, among other things, a special interest, and reacted to its lobbyists’ Be Afraid! screeching accordingly.

UPDATE: Here’s a tweet in response, from George Little, Secretary Panetta’s spokesperson at the Pentagon:

@barryeisler Calling the US mil a special interest is insulting to those who risk their lives to protect your freedom to call them that.

Well, I could be wrong in suspecting an organization — any organization — with a trillion-dollar budget might have a few interests not necessarily consonant with those of the nation at large, but maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe the Pentagon is in fact composed of and run by men so selfless that they defy all rules of human nature and bureaucratic dynamics. Maybe criticizing the trillion-dollar military bureaucracy is the same as insulting individual soldiers. If so, criticizing the Pentagon would be bad form, and maybe even unpatriotic!

Or maybe Mr. Little came up with his clever little “how dare you insult the troops” dodge because he doesn’t have the wherewithal to respond to any of my substantive arguments. In which case, Mr. Little, I must regretfully conclude that you’re just as full of shit as your boss. I’m sure being the Pentagon Press Secretary and SecDef Spokesman has its perks, but wouldn’t you rather have some integrity?

Even as the aftershocks of the March 11 Touhoku quake continued to rock Japan, a group of people came together and determined to do something in response. The Wall Street Journal chronicled their efforts, and the result is a remarkable book, called “2:46: Aftershocks: Stories from the Japan Earthquake.” Recorded, written, and published in just over one week, and available as of this morning, it’s a stunning collection of firsthand accounts, photographs, art, and essays (including an original by cyberpunk science fiction legend William Gibson), 100% of the proceeds of which go to the Japanese Red Cross and its critical work of aiding the quake’s victims. I’m very proud to have contributed the foreword, which I’m posting here in hopes it will entice more people to get involved. Please, buy a copy of the book, share on Facebook, like Quakebook on Facebook, post something about it on your blog, follow Quakebook on Twitter, tweet about it with the hashtag #Quakebook– whatever you can do to help get out the word and help a nation and people that desperately need it. Thank you.

****************

For me, Tokyo was metropolitan love at first sight.

It was 1992, and the government sent me for a language homestay. I got off the Skyliner at Ueno Station from Narita and that was it, I was done for. I could try to tell you why — the energy of the place, its strangeness, the feeling of method to the madness — but really, you might as well try to explain your first crush, your first love, the attraction of a lifelong romance. Whatever you can explain in words won’t quite be it. The real connection is always too deep, too elusive, too mysterious ever to be corralled by language. The words will never get it right.

Still, if you’re in love and you’re a writer, you have to try. You might even create a character, say, a half-Japanese, half-American assassin, to help you:

Tokyo is so vast, and can be so cruelly impersonal, that the succor provided by its occasional oasis is sweeter than that of any other place I’ve known. There is the quiet of shrines like Hikawa, inducing a somber sort of reflection that for me has always been the same pitch as the reverberation of a temple chime; the solace of tiny nomiya, neighborhood watering holes, with only two or perhaps four seats facing a bar less than half the length of a door, presided over by an ageless mama-san, who can be soothing or stern, depending on the needs of her customer, an arrangement that dispenses more comfort and understanding than any psychiatrist’s couch; the strangely anonymous camaraderie of yatai and tachinomi, the outdoor eating stalls that serve beer in large mugs and grilled food on skewers, stalls that sprout like wild mushrooms on dark corners and in the shadows of elevated train tracks, the laughter of their patrons diffusing into the night air like little pockets of light against the darkness without.

And:

At first light, the whole of Shibuya feels like a giant sleeping off a hangover. You can still sense the merriment, the heedless laughter of the night before, you can hear it echoed in the strange silences and deserted spaces of the area’s twisting backstreets. The drunken voices of karaoke revelers, the unctuous pitches of the club touts, the secret whispers of lovers walking arm in arm, all are departed, but somehow, for just a few evanescent hours in the quiet of early morning, their shadows linger, like ghosts who refuse to believe the night has ended, that there are no more parties to attend.

If my books have been love letters to Japan, this one is more an SOS. I’m both proud and humbled to be part of it, to be in a position to reach others who love Japan and long for Japan so together we can give back some of what we’ve received, and do something to help Japan back to her feet.

This post is in response to a post by Juan Cole, a blogger and expert on the Arab and Muslim worlds from whom I’ve learned a great deal and who I greatly respect, arguing that America has a moral obligation to assist its NATO allies in the war against Libya.

Hi Juan, I’m no expert on NATO and the UN, but Article 5 of the NATO Charter seems entirely clear:

The Parties agree that an armed attack against one or more of them in Europe or North America shall be considered an attack against them all and consequently they agree that, if such an armed attack occurs, each of them, in exercise of the right of individual or collective self-defence recognised by Article 51 of the Charter of the United Nations, will assist the Party or Parties so attacked by taking forthwith, individually and in concert with the other Parties, such action as it deems necessary, including the use of armed force, to restore and maintain the security of the North Atlantic area.

So Article 5 applies only to attacks in Europe and North America, which would seem to exclude events in North Africa. And even if we read the phrase, “to restore and maintain the security of the North Atlantic area” as broadly as possible, it’s hard to see how it could be stretched to an African country on the Mediterranean.

But I think your argument might find some support in Article 6, which provides:

For the purpose of Article 5, an armed attack on one or more of the Parties is deemed to include an armed attack: on the territory of any of the Parties in Europe or North America, on the Algerian Departments of France (2), on the territory of or on the Islands under the jurisdiction of any of the Parties in the North Atlantic area north of the Tropic of Cancer; [and] on the forces, vessels, or aircraft of any of the Parties, when in or over these territories or any other area in Europe in which occupation forces of any of the Parties were stationed on the date when the Treaty entered into force or the Mediterranean Sea or the North Atlantic area north of the Tropic of Cancer.

Again, I know little about the NATO Charter and am unfamiliar with other attempts to interpret it, but on its face, Article 6 seems to provide that if NATO forces are attacked in the Mediterranean, the attack will be deemed to be an Article 5 attack. That said, as a former lawyer, I’m struck by the sloppy drafting of Article 6. As drafted, it seems to have the effect of dramatically expanding the geographical ambit of Article 5, making me wonder why, if such an expansion was the intent of the drafters, they didn’t just forthrightly provide for the proper geographical scope of the treaty in one place. Another drafting anomaly in Article 6 is the repetition of the notion that an armed attack on Europe means an armed attack on Europe. Finally, we should mindful of what NATO stands for: North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Legal documents are often construed without regard to their titles and headings, but still, it’s fair to wonder why the drafters would have called the organization and the treaty NATO if they intended the alliance to apply equally to the Mediterranean. NAMTO would have worked as an acronym, too.

These anomalies are why I hesitate to opine too strongly in the absence of familiarity with something equivalent to case law (I couldn’t find any, BTW). My guess is that the drafters intended that limiting phrase, “in which occupation forces of any of the Parties were stationed on the date when the Treaty entered into force” to apply not just to Europe, but to the Mediterranean and other areas mentioned in Article 6, too. Regardless, on its face, Article 6 does seem to provide support for the notion that if NATO forces are attacked in the Mediterranean, the alliance will treat such attacks as an attack against all, in which case each NATO party is obligated to assist the parties that have been attacked.

All that said, you wrote, “So my question is, does that decision not lay a moral obligation on the US to lend support to the effort of its allies?” As you can see from my attempts to parse the NATO Charter, I think the better question is, “Does that decision create a legal obligation for the United States?” Because, after all, if the NATO Council decided to pick a fight outside the treaty’s ambit and then tried to invoke the treaty as a way of forcing America to join in that fight, I would argue that no, America certainly has no moral obligation to join in the fight, and I would only be concerned with whether America would be legally obligated to join. As a matter of common sense, it seems dubious that NATO could launch a war not authorized by the treaty and then invoke the treaty to force a member to join that war, but still, the Charter says what it says and regardless of common sense the document of course needs to be addressed.

You ask: Had Washington demurred, “would not the allies have had a legitimate grounds for absolute fury?” I think this is the wrong question. America shouldn’t be pressured into war by fear of third party emotions. If America has a legal obligation to join, America should honor that obligation. If no such obligation exists, the emotional reaction in foreign capitals ought to be a matter of diplomacy, but ought not to be a basis for America’s participation in a war.

You mention that NATO invoked Article 5 following the September 11 attacks. But this was entirely proper, as the territory of a member state had been attacked. Libya has attacked no member state, and your argument would seem to imply that when NATO acts properly in situation x, member states are therefore obligated to act improperly in situation y. Such a tit for tat interpretation of the treaty makes no sense, either legally or common sensically. Moreover, the treaty makes no mention of public support for or opposition to responses by member states, so the foreign public opposition you mention to NATO’s assistance to America in Afghanistan again seems relevant only to matters of diplomacy, not to whether an alliance member is legally or even morally obligated to assist another alliance member.

Similarly, your concern that an American demurral would mean the end of NATO is a matter of diplomacy only. Why would America want to be part of an organization that could force America into a war just by threatening the organization’s dissolution if America failed to join? If America really wanted to stay out and believed it had no legal obligation to join in, presumably it could head off such a crisis by early diplomatic intervention. If it couldn’t, it might be worth discussing the value of an organization that no longer has a Soviet Union to deter and that seeks to force America to participate in actions outside the ambit of the treaty America has signed.

Granted, Resolution 1973 authorizes UN member states to attack Libya. But I don’t see how it follows that America or any other NATO member is then legally obligated to participate in a war launched pursuant to the UN’s resolution. Resolution 1973 authorized military action in Libya; it did not require it. Allowing a UN authorization to act as a legal trigger for a NATO requirement would greatly expand the potential applicability of the treaty. France’s and Britain’s actions in Libya make sense to you, but their next ones might not, and you might regret the creation of a principal that winds up obligating America to participate in every UN-authorized war that a NATO member decides to engage in. I know I would.

You close by asking again whether America has a moral obligation to assist its NATO allies in Libya. Again, I respond by saying respectfully that this is the wrong question. The right question is, Is America legally obligated to assist? Though the ambiguities in Article 6 leave room for argument, on balance I would say that no, America had no such legal obligation, and that in the absence of a legal obligation to act under a treaty, there is no moral basis to act under a treaty. If it were otherwise, we could dispense with treaties entirely and choose our wars case by case on an entirely “moral” basis.

With sincere respect,
Barry Eisler

Donald Rumsfeld (graphic: the|G|™ via Flickr)

Here’s what I thought when I heard the Conservative Political Action Conference has decided to honor former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld with something CPAC calls the “Defender of the Constitution Award.”

As I imagine CPAC is aware, Rumsfeld is the man who signed the very first memo authorizing the torture techniques that later became infamous with the revelations of photos from Abu Ghraib prison. Philippe Sands wrote the definitive book on the subject; it’s called “Torture Team: Rumsfeld’s Memo and the Betrayal of American Values.” The topic is also thoroughly covered in the bipartisan report of the Senate Armed Services Committee, “Inquiry into the Treatment of Detainees in U.S. Custody,” which concluded:

The abuse of detainees at Abu Ghraib in late 2003 was not simply the result of a few soldiers acting on their own. Interrogation techniques such as stripping detainees of their clothes, placing them in stress positions, and using military working dogs to intimidate them appeared in Iraq only after they had been approved for use in Afghanistan and at GTMO. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld’s December 2, 2002 authorization of aggressive interrogation techniques and subsequent interrogation policies and plans approved by senior military and civilian officials conveyed the message that physical pressures and degradation were appropriate treatment for detainees in U.S. military custody. What followed was an erosion in standards dictating that detainees be treated humanely.

I thought about how different things might be today if, instead of Rumsfeld, America had been blessed with a Defense Secretary who really was a defender of the Constitution, and who therefore would have refused to partake in its violation. Someone who valued the Constitution’s prohibition on cruel and unusual punishment, who understood that the Constitution elevates to the Supreme Law of the Land treaties like the Geneva Conventions and the United Nations Convention Against Torture. Certainly we’d be safer. Our standing in the world, and in our own eyes, would be undiminished. And of course the Constitution itself would be stronger, having been spared a withering assault.

I thought about people like Alberto Mora, who fought Rumsfeld’s torture memos as the Navy’s General Counsel, and Major General Antonio Taguba, who was forced to retire for his critical report on torture at Abu Ghraib, and Air Force interrogators like Major Matthew Alexander and Col. Steve Kleinman, who have fought heroically against torture (Alexander’s most recent book, “Kill or Capture,” comes out today). I thought again of the Constitution, and of the condition it might be in today if these men had won and Rumsfeld had lost.  . . .

The strangest thing about the low quality of Internet argument is that effective argument isn’t really so difficult. Sure, not everyone can be Clarence Darrow, but anyone who wants to be at least competent at argument can do it. Here are a few guidelines.

I’ll start with a hint: note the qualifier in the preceding paragraph: “anyone who wants to be.” I have a feeling most people who suck at argument believe they’re actually good at it. They’re not, and in fact they’re not even arguing — they’re masturbating. Good argument is intended to persuade another. Masturbation is intended to pleasure the self. It’s the people who can’t tell the difference who mistakenly think they’re good at argument. I hope this article will improve the effectiveness of people who are interested in good argument. And I hope it will help people who until now have been masturbating to recognize what they’ve been doing, and to stop doing it in public.

Also, please note that word, “guideline,” which is not the same thing as a rule. The points I make in this essay are primarily applicable to comments in blog posts and other one-to-one exchanges. A blog post itself, which isn’t typically addressed to a single person, offers more latitude for, say, the use of ridicule or sarcasm or other techniques that, deployed against an individual, would inhibit that individual from coming around to your point of view. It’s a matter of audience, and of intent. There are plenty of other exceptions, too — but before worrying too much about what they might be, we’d do well to understand the general principles.

1. Insults and the Golden Rule. The most important guideline when it comes to argument is the golden rule. If someone were addressing your point, what tone, what overall approach would you find persuasive and want her to use? Whatever that is, do it yourself.

Let’s get a little more specific. When someone addresses you with sarcasm, or otherwise insults you, has it ever — even once — changed your mind? I doubt it. Now, it’s possible you’re uniquely impervious to having your mind changed via insult, while, for everyone else, insults happen to be an excellent means of persuasion. But it seems more likely that your personal experience is representative of the way people work generally, and if you extrapolate just a bit, or if you take a moment to consider whether your own insults have ever persuaded someone else, you should be able to realize that an insult is a useless tool of persuasion. In fact, it’s been my experience and observation that insults not only fail to persuade, but have the opposite effect, because they engage the recipient’s ego and consequently cause him to cling more tightly to his position.

Let’s use a non-Internet example for a moment. Ever see an irate driver flip someone off and yell, “Hey buddy, learn to drive!” or the like? Probably. Now, do you think the recipient of the advice has ever reflected, “You know, that fellow does have a point. What I did was careless and I should probably enroll in a remedial driver education course.” So what was the irate driver hoping to accomplish with his insult? If your answer is, “He just wanted to insult the other guy!”, you might be right, and if the irate driver was clear about his real goal, at least he’s using well-tailored means (though, I would argue, his behavior is still pathetic and childish). But if the irate driver really believes he’s doing something persuasive, he’s obviously deluded.

Because even the most elementary common sense demonstrates the futility and counterproductivity of insults as tools of persuasion, we have to ask why so many people choose to employ them. I see two possibilities: (i) the people who are doing so are shockingly stupid; (ii) the people who are doing so aren’t actually interested in persuasion, but instead insult others primarily to pleasure themselves. Neither of these possibilities is attractive.

Here are a few common insults I see on the Internet. I think the people using them aren’t aware these comments are insulting. Their ignorance is likely the result of: (i) a failure of golden rule imagination (unless they feel respected when people offer them equivalent advice); or (ii) such blind certainty that they’re right that on some level they honestly expect the other person to respond, “Oh, good point! I really was being stupid there, and I’m grateful to you for pointing it out.”

Wake up and smell the coffee.
Stop drinking the cool-aid.
Well, duh.
Um… (Seems innocent enough, right? But does it pass the golden rule test? No — because the subtext is, “You just said something so stupid that I’m hesitant to bring this up in response, but…”.)

And then there’s sarcasm. I’ll tell you what I hate about sarcasm. First, it’s self-indulgent. Its intent is to make the user feel superior. Second, it’s unproductive. Its effect is to irritate the recipient, after which things tend to get less substantive and more personal (see the section below on Your Ego is Your Enemy). Finally, it’s chickenshit. The people who employ it from the safety of their keyboards wouldn’t dream of doing it in circumstances where there could be consequences.

Also see the section below on Sham Arguments, which, in addition to their other shortcomings, are almost always insulting.

A hint: adjectives and adverbs, while not necessarily automatically insulting, are usually not your friends in argument because they tend to make you sound bombastic while adding nothing of substance. Include them in the first draft, and then take another look to see if your argument will be stronger and more dispassionate, and therefore more persuasive to your listener, without them.

2. No One Cares About Your Opinion. It might be painful to admit it, but no one cares about your opinion (or mine, for that matter). It would be awesome to be so impressive that we could sway people to our way of thinking just by declaiming our thoughts, but probably most of us lack such gravitas. Luckily, there’s something even better: evidence, logic, and argument. Think about it: when was the last time someone persuaded you of the rightness of his opinion just by declaring what it was? Probably it was the same time someone changed your mind with an insult, right? And like insults, naked declarations of opinion, because they can’t persuade, are masturbatory. And masturbation, again, is not a very polite thing to do on a blog.

If you think about it, believing a statement of your opinion alone to be persuasive is fundamentally narcissistic. Now, maybe a hotshot celebrity with a million Twitter followers can sway some people to her opinion just by uttering it. Doing so is still narcissistic because it depends for its effect on who is talking rather than on what is being said, but at least the celebrity has a basis for her narcissistic belief. For those of us more ordinary types, though, remember — the sin of narcissism is worse when committed by someone lacking even the underlying beauty to justify it.

The most egregious example of this kind of useless narcissism I can remember was from one of those old American Express ads, where Annie Leibowitz would photograph a celebrity and the facing page would do a quick Q&A. There was one with writer/director M. Night Shyamalan. The question was, “Favorite movie?” Shyamalan’s response: “The Godfather. Period. End of conversation.” I remember thinking, “End of conversation? That should be the beginning of conversation! Who cares what movie you like? I want to know why you like it!” Unfortunately, Shyamalan thought what he liked was more significant than why he liked it. This outlook is childish and self-indulgent, of course, but but more importantly for our purposes, it’s useless. Disagree? Then ask yourself this: have you ever found yourself persuaded by a bumper sticker?

Here’s a simple exercise. Try to get in the habit of using the word “because” after a statement of an opinion. “I like The Godfather because….”. “I think M. Night Shyamalan is a good/bad writer and director because…”. Using “because” will naturally encourage you to provide evidence and reasoning, the objective underpinnings that turn subjective opinions into effective tools of persuasion. And not incidentally, the offering of evidence is an inherently modest, respectful, and therefore persuasive tactic. Someone who tries to persuade you with no more than an opinion is necessarily implying that he’s tremendously important and you’re in thrall to his awesomeness. Conversely, someone who takes the time and trouble to offer you evidence and reasoning is implying that you are a logical being worth the effort of attempting to persuade.

To put it another way: First comes your opinion. Next comes the word “because.” After the “because” is your evidence — the facts on which your opinion is based. In writing, an opinion is often known as a topic sentence. Here’s a simple example — note how useless it would be without the evidence that follows it.

Where can you find evidence? Well, if you don’t have any to begin with, you might usefully ask yourself what your opinion is based on and why you hold it. Regardless, in the age of Google and Wikipedia, there’s just no reasonable excuse for failing to minimally research your position. The only explanations are laziness, an onanistic objective, and narcissism, none of which I’d want to cop to if I could just do the research instead.

3. Your Ego Is Your Enemy. One of the primary causes of ineffective argument is the emotional attachment people develop to their opinions. A Martian might expect that humans would only develop opinions in the presence of supporting facts, and that the strength of opinions would correlate with the strength of supporting facts. But we all know the Martian would be wrong. Most people develop opinions for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with facts: I’m a Republican, I’m a Democrat, I live in a certain city, I was born of a certain race or religion, my parents taught me this, etc. And once we’ve taken a position, we don’t want to modify it, lest we implicitly acknowledge that the opinion had no sound basis in the first place. If your opinion is based on facts, new facts can easily change your opinion. If your opinion is based on other than facts, you’ll be motivated to maintain that opinion no matter what the facts.

So how do you stay out of ego trouble? First, by not getting into it. If you have an opinion, ask yourself why you have that opinion. What’s it based on? And whatever factors it might be based on, how much do you really know about them? In intelligence, you’re taught to distinguish between what you know, what you don’t know, and what you think you know. Do this as honestly as you can with your opinions and the evidence behind them.

Second, and at least as important: don’t get personally engaged. If you insult someone (see the section above on Insults and The Golden Rule), either in the first instance or in response, your ego is engaged. Once your ego is engaged, your primary motivation shifts from persuasion to ego protection. This is a waste of time. If you hadn’t put your ego at risk in the first place, you wouldn’t be forced to protect it now.

But how can you you resist the temptation to respond to an insult in kind? Well, you can find strength in the knowledge that people who ignore Internet insults and respond substantively appear mature, self-confident, and sane, and are therefore almost always more persuasive to people following the conversation, for one. You can find a way to take pride in following a personal code, for another. Third, you can recognize the danger of the Fundamental Misattribution Error, and know that the person who just insulted you thinks he’s a great guy, and that therefore, if you insult him back, he won’t find it justified the way you do. Finally, you can ponder what Ghandi meant when he said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

Here’s a little tactical trick. When someone insults you, try to rephrase in your mind what the person would have said if he’d been trying to be polite, and respond to that instead.

4. Good Argument is Good Conversation. A few years ago, I read a terrific Russell Baker review of a book called, “Conversation: A History of a Declining Art,” by Stephen Miller, in the New York Review of Books. I’ll quote three paragraphs from the review here because they’re applicable to effective argument, too.

Both participants listen attentively to each other; neither tries to promote himself by pleasing the other; both are obviously enjoying an intellectual workout; neither spoils the evening’s peaceable air by making a speech or letting disagreement flare into anger; they do not make tedious attempts to be witty. They observe classic conversational etiquette with a self-discipline that would have pleased Michel de Montaigne, Samuel Johnson, or any of a dozen other old masters of good talk whom Miller cites as authorities.

This etiquette, Miller says, is essential if conversation is to rise to the level of — well, “good conversation.” The etiquette is hard on hotheads, egomaniacs, windbags, clowns, politicians, and zealots. The good conversationalist must never go purple with rage, like people on talk radio; never tell a long-winded story, like Joseph Conrad; and never boast that his views enjoy divine approval, like a former neighbor of mine whose car bumper declared, “God Said It, I Believe It, That Settles It.”

Underlying this code of good manners is the assumption that good conversation is not a lecture, a performance, a diatribe, a sermon, a negotiation, a cross-examination, a confession, a challenge, a display of learning, an oral history, or a proclamation of personal opinion.

Regarding “God Said It, I Believe It, That Settles It,” see the section above on No One Cares About Your Opinion — specifically, the part about narcissism.

5. False Binaries. A false binary is a false either/or. Examples would be, “Either we wage war on Islam or we’re all be forced to convert!” “We have to fight communism in Vietnam or we’ll be fighting it here at home!” “We have to keep drugs illegal or America will become a nation of addicts!” And my personal favorite: “What are we supposed to do if we can’t torture prisoners for information, feed them tea and crumpets?”

False binaries are the result either of sloppy thinking or of deliberate attempts to mislead, neither of which is well calculated to persuade. They’re usually caused by a conflation of means and ends. If you look at war as a tool, for example, you’ll understand it’s just one way (and usually not a very good one) for dealing with an enemy, or of otherwise getting what you want. If you conceive of war as the end and not the means, on the other hand, you’ll have a hard time seeing other ways of achieving whatever it is you tell yourself you’re after. Similarly, if you feel drug prohibition is itself the goal, you won’t be able to see past it. If you realize instead that the goal is to keep usage and addiction rates at levels society can manage (as we do for alcohol), possibilities other than prohibition will become apparent.

Watch out for the weasel words in false binaries, too. “We have to fight militant Islam,” for example. Okay, but… is there really no way to fight an ideology other than with, say, invasions and drone strikes?

As for the torture vs tea and crumpets argument, my usual response is, “Really? Those are the only two ways of acquiring information from a prisoner that you can imagine?” Because so many other possibilities are obvious — what do police do? What did World War II interrogators do? — it’s pretty clear that people who try to narrow things down to torture on the one hand, tea and crumpets on the other are more interested in torture than they are in information.

False binaries are worth avoiding because they make you look stupid, and, aside from the indignity inherent in looking stupid, stupidity isn’t usually persuasive (though I admit that in politics there are lots of exceptions). If someone offers you a false binary, the best counter is to politely expose how silly it is, chiefly by pointing out how many alternatives are in fact available.

Above all, remember: you’re either with us, or you’re with the terrorists.

6. Sham Arguments. A sham argument, in the guise of straw men, platitudes, cliches, and what a website I like calls glittering generalities, is a truism trotted out in arguments’ clothing. Here are a few examples, all taken from the real live Internet:

“The president can’t just wave a magic wand and fix everything.”
“America has real enemies.”
“In politics, sometimes you have to compromise.”
“Freedom isn’t free.”
“You can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs.”
“It’s as simple as that.” (I actually like this one. I always read it as “I’m as simple as that.”)

Anytime you argue a truism, your implication is insulting because you’re suggesting the other person can’t see something blindingly obvious and requires some sort of remedial lesson from you. Ask yourself, why are you making such axiomatic observations? Because you really believe the other person doesn’t know these things or that he would argue the opposite? Or because you’re trying to insult the other person by implying that he doesn’t realize something any child would understand?

The key to recognizing a sham argument is knowing no one would ever take the contrary position. Look at the examples above and restate them as their opposites. No one would ever take such positions. “The president has a magic wand.” “America has no real enemies.” In politics, you never have to compromise. “Freedom is free.” Etc. You might as wall try to persuade someone that “sometimes it’s sunny, sometimes there are clouds.” The person’s already persuaded — so what’s your point? Making such obvious, unimpeachable points just makes you sound stupid and/or condescending. Indulging stupidity and condescension never feels respectful, and what’s perceived as disrespectful almost always fails to persuade.

7. Cliches. I mentioned cliches above, but decided to give the topic its own heading here because although cliches are a species of sham argument, they’re pernicious too because of how effectively they block actual thought. Sunlight is the best disinfectant… better tried by twelve than carried by six (which is also a false binary, BTW)… If you argue with cliches, you’ll come across as a thoughtless, unoriginal automaton. I could be wrong about this, but I’ve never seen anyone persuaded by a thoughtless, unoriginal automaton, so why would you want to act like one?

8. Digressions. If you want to be listened to, it’s best to keep your comments on point. Using a post about Obama’s broken habeas corpus promises as a jumping-off point for your thoughts on why you don’t like Obama’s environmental policies is apt to be unproductive (see the Russell Baker excerpt in the section above on Good Conversation). Someone else’s post isn’t just a grand excuse for you to offer up whatever else happens to be on your mind, and overriding the topic at hand with your own priorities isn’t spam, exactly, but it has a similar flavor.

Look at it this way (and this is advice is applicable more generally, too). In the real world, would you walk up to several people you see engaged in conversation, listen for a moment, learn that they’re talking about baseball, and join in by offering your thoughts on the benefits of the Paleo Diet? Of course not, because you know this would be boorish and would encourage polite society to shun you (I hope you know this). Well, look, if it’s rude in the real world, chances are it’s rude on the Internet, too.

If someone asks you a question, answer it. If someone makes a point, respond to it. A great way to keep yourself honest is to quote the other person’s exact words. I know how obvious this sounds, but so many of the comments in blog comment sections are contrary to this elementary advice. Ignoring the other person’s attempts to engage you makes you come across as wormlike and gelatinous, leads to unproductive exchanges, and is never persuasive.

9. Separate the Subjective from the Objective. Remember the exchange in the movie version of Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity, where Todd Louiso says, “Well, I like the new Belle & Sebastion album,” Jack Black cries out, “Bullshit!”, and John Cusack then says, “How can it be bullshit to express a preference?”

Exactly. “I like the new Belle & Sebastian” is subjective — that is, not subject to persuasion or proof. It’s neither right nor wrong and no one will be able to persuade the speaker that it isn’t so. Similarly, “I love America!” is subjective. “America is the best country!”, on the other hand, is an objective statement because it’s (at least theoretically) amenable to persuasion and proof. Presumably there is some basket of criteria for what makes a country good, and the country that has the most such criteria could be declared the best (though is there a sillier argument than an argument about America’s bestness?). For more on this critical difference, here’s an exchange on my Facebook page about whether America is the best country to live in. It’s also a good example of what happens when ego, in this case, nationalism, is driving an argument and has pushed reason into the back seat.

10. My Tenth Point. Why do I feel the need for ten entries in this post? I blame George Carlin.

To sum up: if you agree that good argument should persuade, you’ll argue with intent to persuade. “Intent to persuade” (sounds almost like a legal definition, doesn’t it?) means: (i) providing not just an opinion, but evidence in support of the opinion; (ii) attempting to separate subjective and objective factors; (iii) a respectful tone; and (iv) generally speaking, an approach that you would find persuasive if someone else were using it and you disagreed with that person’s underlying point.

I think this list is a good start, but I’m sure it’s incomplete. Please feel free to add your own thoughts on how to argue effectively, and then help make this advice go viral through Facebook, Twitter, your own blog, and whatever other means are available to you. Together we can improve Internet discourse, and who knows where that might lead? Thanks.