“Someone asked me recently what I see in American religion and culture. My answer? I’m seeing more vibrancy, questioning, energy, and risk than ever at the grassroots and more anxiety, panic, and authoritarianism than ever in upper level structures and institutions. I think the two are related.”
~ Diana Butler Bass (quoted on FB)
Think [Everything is] Different
30 years ago in 1984, Apple came out with their best commercial of all time: a woman running with a sledgehammer to break the projection screen of a dystopian Orwellian future, concluding with the Apple tagline “Think Different.” Since that time and with the rise of the Internet, many different genres have thought differently and been significantly disrupted. Music and movies and books that used to have centralized publishing centers are now more decentralized thanks to music sites like Pure Volume, fan-funded films like Veronica Mars, fan-edited videos like Star Wars Uncut, and self-published books.
With so many genres shifting (often dramatically), it stands to reason that the genre of Christian conversation would shift. And in recent weeks in my niche of the Internet, it could not be more clear: Christian discourse is changing–and it is changing dramatically.
Up until 20 years ago, religious conversation primarily happened in the academic halls where rhetoric could be evaluated, fallacies pointed out, and people played by the rules of debate. Conversation also happened in church halls where cultural niceties and face-to-face community gave a framework for the hottest of topics (mostly). While there were obviously side conversations by minority parties, rarely did the majority and minority groups find common arenas for discourse.
But then the Internet happened and the conversation moved from the halls to the home. No longer was religious conversation held under the authorities’ watchful eye, but could be fully experienced by anyone. Doctrines were critiqued online, answers to religious questions were found online, and safe places to question authority were anonymously engaged in–and this is key–by both majority and minority voices in the same arenas. I know because I’ve engaged in spirited online religious debate anonymously and by name since 1999.
We are in the middle of the most radical shift since Gutenberg’s press moved reading the Bible from the pews to the homes in the people’s language. But this is not without risk: moving the religious conversation outside of the gates (academic and ecclesial) threatens those who have not only dominated the discourse but also defined it through rules, customs, and etiquette.
Rules for Debate as Power Strategies
Our recent blog post alleging majority blindness to a minority need brought forth many reactions (1 2 3 4 5 6 7) and responses to the reactions (1 2). At the risk of a false generalization, the reactions all have to do with violations of what they believe is the proper method for proper discourse. Because we were depicted as having broken varied rules of engagement, our argument was invalidated–and thus almost universally ignored.
Such calls remind me of dismissing a person because they broke a rule in formatting MLA/APA style (ie. “Sally’s paper on white privilege is invalid because she mis-structured a footnote”). As exhibited above (and in some of the comments), the majority culture expects you to conform to their terms as prerequisites to engaging your argument. As the Frost/Nixon movie depicted, determining the rules of discourse is a power strategy for people to craft discourse to their advantage.
Now that the academics, the church authorities, and the people are in the same arenas online, the relative value of these rules has shifted. One of my Facebook friends noted that if someone makes a point in an Internet debate and the person replies “that’s a fallacy” and drops the mic…well, they don’t often find the other side is convinced. To use a sports metaphor, you can throw yellow flags on the football field all you want, but it doesn’t stop the play. Likewise, you can allege process errors all you want, but ultimately you have to address the substance of the argument, not shame it into silence.
I think that we recognize that we do need etiquette in our online discussions, especially in the arenas of plagiarism, citing sources, public quoting of private statements, personal attacks, and many others–including fallacies and errors in logic. But to view them as checklists of requirements before those accustomed to policing religious discussion will respond is a power-play that I don’t believe is helpful in the Internet Age. And even more unhelpful would be if persons of privilege pledge to converse only with other signers of “conversation covenants” so they can create digital Hauerwasian colonies away from the rabble. Don’t laugh: it could happen, either overtly or by silent agreement.
Conversation Beyond the Power Discourse
There is a better way. I believe to best engage in religious discussions online is not to impose a set of rules authored by the power structure but rather to embody a radical way of discourse that simultaneously negates both the power structures and the lawless rabble.
- The tendency to enforce debate norms and rules is a manifestation of what Peter Rollins calls “power discourses” or a form of Christian apologetics that convinces by word or wonder that their understanding of Christianity is compelling (examined here). By structuring the debate and discrediting arguments that don’t follow the structure, the power is maintained by those who curate the structure but who claim to just be playing “by the rules.”
- The contrary form of power discourses is powerless discourses, or ones that do not seek to force the other to conform but instead carry the desired ethics in our own selves. In the face of the checklists of the Pharisees, Jesus spoke in parables and language that was looked down upon by the authorities but was ultimately more authentic to the people’s experience. Like a kenotic Christ, our power is in powerlessness, not in imposition of assumed authority.
Our power is in exhibiting in our persons and our personas online in a way of being that people are attracted to. In today’s decentralized world, the best way to converse online is to be the person who you want to converse with—that’s it. Engage how you want to engage, consistently on other blogs as your own, and develop your own voice. Be a light on a hill. You may even gather a community who converses in the same way–but through choice rather than coercion.
Far from being combative or throwing in the towel, I believe this is a missional position: it allows us to be better missionaries to a digital culture embedded alongside our own. And instead of giving people the Bible and teaching them to read it in our language, we learn the people’s language and speak the Bible with respect to their norms and in their town halls and internet rancor pits. Those of us who can get over ourselves and wade in and carry the candle of Christ above the fray (and occasionally in the thick of it) can be examples of the living Christ–and if it is important, one can win more hearts and minds than power narratives reliant on unrecognized authority could ever do. I’ll write more on this in the future.
TL;DR
This was a long post so here’s the “too long; didn’t read” version:
- Disregarding/ignoring the substance of a person’s argument because they did not meet your terms of engagement is not often a shared value in the Internet arena.
- As conversation moves from the pews and the academy to the digital streets, those who consider themselves missionaries to digital culture must carry their own values and norms with them rather than impose rules and regulations for debate that those outside of the power structure do not recognize.
Thoughts?
In re your second point, one of the issues I see is that we all have different comfort levels with various vocabularies. Some, such as myself, are perfectly fine with what can generously be described as “colorful” language. While I recognize others are not, and therefore tend to limit its use, as well as warn of its presence beforehand, I do no believe others’s issues with my comfort with, say, vulgarity, is my issue. It is their’s. I have been and will consistently maintain that our discussions in various forums, while heated, have been surprisingly civil. I accept much of what you are saying; I do not believe, however, it will be by others precisely because it forces a surrender of power by those accustomed to having power.
Excellent post, Jeremy. I think we’re coming at this issue of online discussion from similar perspectives, albeit using different toolsets (for comparison, see “Trade Rules of Engagement for Spiritual Discernment” on UM Insight at http://um-insight.net/perspectives/trade-rules-of-engagement-for-spiritual-discernment/
I’d like to pick up this for UM Insight. OK with you?
All posts except guest content are licensed as Creative Commons shares, so you are always welcome to reprint with attribution (and I appreciate a link back, as you are good about doing).
I was reading along and being persuaded and fully engaged, and then you ended a sentence with a preposition and I was thrown out of the argument. And I thought, crap, I’ve become an illustration of your point!
I managed to get back into it though. I’m looking forward to your article about carrying the candle above/into the fray.
I did, didn’t I? That is something up with which you should not put!
Thank you for your good sense, Winston Churchill!
There are precedents in history of times when everyday people were the primary participants in ongoing ecclesial debate. During the times of the Arian Controversy, for example. Hymns were used as a weapon (as they sometimes are today) to promote a heretical position among the common folk. In the Eastern Roman Empire, what came to be called the Byzantine Empire, the norm was for everyday people to argue and debate in their homes, at their workplaces, in athletic arenas. I don’t think what is happening on the Internet is new in the way you present it. Rather, it is something old in new clothing. And this new setting depersonalizes things such that folks are enabled to become their worst selves.
I think it would be good to acknowledge the power that evil has in a power vacuum. Unfortunately, in group situations, nastiness has much more power than righteousness. That is how we explain Fox News having such a high viewing audience. It isn’t that viewers never see or hear the good guys; it’s that the good guys aren’t as exciting or intoxicating. While we can sing the accolades of the everyday people, we would be fools to think that they will be drawn to the righteous if the wicked are put on the same footing. If there is some kind of myth afoot that people always choose what is good for them, then…I guess let’s just watch and see what happens.
But for the record, I share the concerns of your detractors about the logic you employ and the spirit with which you engage in dialogue. The question isn’t whether or not you can find plenty of people to flock to your ideology. That question has been answered. I think the question your detractors are trying to figure out is if you can even be a conversation partner. And from the answer here, it would seem they need to conclude, ‘no.’ And that’s too bad. I think you have it in you to speak the truth in love.
But the standout feature of this article is the cultural awareness you’ve displayed by correctly using a sports metaphor.
I’m shocked as well, Greg!
Jeremy, formal and informal fallacies are hardly akin to poorly formatted footnotes. Footnote errors may be the result of lazy editing. Fallacies are themselves faulty reasoning. Faulty reasoning lacks substance. So, there’s no such think as fallacious yet substantive writing. Substantive writing is well-reasoned, not poorly reasoned.
Your post criticizing those who want to close GC2016 lacked substance because your logic was poorly reasoned. You committed the ad hominem fallacy, which is to say that instead of arguing against the argument to close GC2016, you argued against the identities of the people making the argument. Rather than interacting with the argument, you pointed to their demographics. But a person’s argument is not invalidated by the color of their skin or by their sexual preferences. Those things have nothing to do with argumentative substance. Demographics may have to do with biases, but biases don’t necessarily negate the substance of an argument either; after all, we are all biased. David Watson may be white and straight and privileged, but that has nothing to do with whether his conclusion follows from his premises. Your post may have resulted in a few extra page views, but it certainly didn’t improve your reputation as a clear thinker. I’ll add that even though I often disagree with your arguments, I do find that they are usually substantive. I thought the particular post about closing GC2016 was somewhat out of character for you. Your writing is usually more substantive and more carefully reasoned.
All that to say, let’s do the best we can to keep our digital interaction substantive. Let’s focus on the arguments. Let’s avoid the fallacies. And maybe we can agree to give each other a break of the occasional typo in our footnotes.
Matt, thanks for your comment. Pointing out how the effects of a proposal disproportionately affects LGBTQ persons and why that would not be in the proposal’s author’s mind is pointing out privilege. Pointing out privilege, to me, is not an ad hominem.
If you believe pointing out privilege and how our social location offers a bias is an ad hominem, is there a form/way how privilege can be pointed out such that you would not define it as an ad hominem?
Thanks for your recognition of the work put into each post, couched in disagreement as it may be.
Jeremy, I think there are a couple of ways you could have made the post more substantive without attacking the demographics of your opponents and without committing an ad hominem.
You probably won’t be surprised to know that I’m sympathetic to Watson’s suggestion. And after reading your post I remember thinking: how frustrating it is when my own arguments are not evaluated based on their merits and are dismissed because I’m white.
I’m happy to hear an argument point out biases and privilege. I simply think it should be done without committing an ad hominem. That may require nuance that doesn’t always fit the biases of electronic media, but that’s no reason to sacrifice intellectual integrity and rigor.
Additionally, and this is moving away from questions of method, I think the weakness of your claim that white straight men are trying to close GC2016 in order to advance their agenda is the simple reality that, if GC2016 were closed, the room wouldn’t be occupied exclusively by white straight men. There will be people from all over the world, from a range of socio-economic backgrounds, both women and men, and (I suspect) not all will be straight. There will be a gathering of delegates that reflects the global face of United Methodism. I’ve not looked at the percentages in a while, but nearly half the delegates will be from Africa, if I recall correctly. Hardly a picture of white privilege.
That said, I do often find your writing to be substantive. That’s why I choose to interact with you on my own site from time to time. I typically don’t waste too much time on writing that I find unimportant.
And as for disagreeing with you, remember I live both in the church and the academy. And in the academy, if you’re not disagreeing with someone, you’re not doing your job. 🙂
Yes what Matt just said, logical fallacies do address the substance of the argument. If your argument is ‘every word of the Bible is true and I know that because the Bible says so’ you can’t just ask me to ignore the circular reasoning and address the substance of the argument. Pointing out the circular reasoning is addressing the substance of the argument. This isn’t like a missing comma or an incorrect citation. To return to your football analogy, the flag on the play might not stop it, but if it’s on the offense the ball won’t be advanced. That, and you’re a poopy head. See, did the ad hominem attack I just made advance the debate? Should you have to now address my fallacious argument that I’m right because you’re a poopy head? Insisting that people need to take fallacious arguments seriously does nothing to advance discourse.