Why is it that, when someone does us the favour of disproving our bad ideas or revealing the gaps in our perspective (be it with great politeness or a hint of snotty superiority), so many of us huff and grizzle like a toddler whose Play-Doh has been confiscated upon the discovery that we’ve been eating it?
We have a bad relationship with criticism – both in the giving and receiving – and for the most part we enter into conversation and debate dishonestly.
We don’t really want to test our perspective against another, we want to tell others why we are right and they are wrong.
This big-headed pig-headedness is responsible for our slow pace of change and progress, but we can stamp it out of our egos with some work.
I’ve found that sloppy, offhand criticism of ideas (see Twitter for some sensationally caustic examples) always comes in one of two forms which appear considered and legitimate in conversation, but are usually very lazy.
Let us say, theoretically, that you and I are having a conversation, and I make the following claim – “Bringing back the death penalty would be a good crime deterrent” – with which you disagree.
Lazy assumptions
You’re likely to criticise my view on two grounds. You will either tell me that I’m wrong because I need more data before I can make such a statement, or that I need to think more about the subject.
There are two lazy assumptions underlying this criticism.
By telling me that I don’t have enough data, you are presuming that you (as the critic) do, by default, have enough data.
You have read the relevant things and come to the conclusion that I am incorrect.
This could be true but, more commonly, opposing parties find different sources to be the “right” ones to read. They approach a debate with differing sets of data to support their positions, and stick loyally to those data.
So, were I to produce a study suggesting that the death penalty is successfully used as a deterrent in, say, Kilkenny, you might produce a study saying that there’s no death penalty in Cork and crime rates are low, and so on.
Your criticism suggests that if I had more/the “right” data, then I would agree with your position.
This approach indicates that, whether you are correct in your position or not, you are not open to the possibility of being wrong. The debate isn’t genuine.
If you suggested "Ireland shouldn't have remained neutral during the second World War" and, without earnestly engaging with why you think so, I were to scoff that you clearly need to think further on the subject, I would be guilty of sloppy criticism.
This second criticism is incredibly common, and has a sinister undertone.
The underlying presumption, made without any evidence, is that if you thought “enough” or “properly” about the question, then you would think what I think. Again, this reveals a closed mind which is not open to the possibility of being wrong.
A critical response
The philosopher Daniel Dennett's wonderful book, Intuition Pumps and Other Tools for Thinking, lays out his famed system for carefully constructing a critical response to another person's ideas which creates a magnanimous obligation on both sides.
If you are fair, even-tempered and civil, your partner in conversation, no matter how belligerent or close-minded, risks looking silly unless they follow suit.
You can follow Dennett’s steps to ensure real, open-minded discussion.
“1. You should attempt to re-express your target’s position so clearly, vividly, and fairly that your target says, “Thanks, I wish I’d thought of putting it that way”.
2. You should list any points of agreement (especially if they are not matters of general or widespread agreement).
3. You should mention anything you have learned from your target.
4. Only then are you permitted to say so much as a word of rebuttal or criticism.”
These steps force you to make a real effort to fully grasp the other person’s position before attempting to pick it apart.
You must engage with a view whether you like it or not, without unfair dismissal, and concede those points you agree on before exploring a topic rather than screaming at one another.
Try it – at best, you’ll learn something. At worst, you won’t look silly.
Win win.
