A plea for civil discourse

The First Amendment has seen better days. Last week, protesters at the University of Missouri, themselves exercising their First Amendment rights of assembly and speech, verbally harassed a student photographer trying to document the protests. Going beyond the First Amendment, a few in the crowd physically pushed him back; meanwhile, a professor of communications went so far as to call for "muscle" to repel the photographer’s unwanted presence. Days before, Yale students, incensed over a simmering Halloween costume email scandal, surrounded the professor married to the originator of the email and demanded an apology from him. When he refused to apologize for his wife, and defended "the right for people to speak their minds," one student shouted in reply, "Who the f--- hired you?", a deafening crescendo to a deeply troubling campus conversation.

More troubling than the protesters’ treatment of their critics—and observers—is the backlash the protesters have faced. For every measured, thoughtful critique, they have also faced deeply disturbing and overtly threatening responses. These kinds of hateful reactions confirm that the protesters’ concerns over racism are real and urgent. Such responses constitute in their own way an even more powerful assault on freedom of speech by giving speech a bad name. These incitements to violence are not protected under the First Amendment and should not be confused with the freedom to disagree.

The substance and tone of today’s rhetoric, not only on campuses, but also on the campaign trail, seems to be challenging a fraying consensus: that free speech and civil discourse are the best ways for a free society to debate its issues.

We've all heard of free speech, but what of civil discourse? I take "civil" to have two meanings: (1) reasoned and respectful, with the aim to persuade and (2) civic, intended to influence the community. Civil discourse, then, is communication intended to address some matter of civic importance in a thoughtful, respectful and persuasion-oriented manner. Civil discourse does not mean that the kind of speech has to be deferential or overly polite, but it does mean entering a discussion with some level of respect for the other side. Ultimately, civil discourse anchors conversations in understanding and truth. It's about changing minds and being open to yours changing along the way.

Civil discourse requires those beginning a conversation to entertain the possibility that they could be wrong. Far from being the sort of elevated conversation reserved to intellectuals, civil discourse requires the same conditions as a serious conversation with family or friends: the assumption of goodwill from the other side, the recognition that you may not have all the answers now, the understanding that others' experiences may illuminate phenomena you've never experienced yourself, the hope that through listening you can expand your understanding of the world.

Free speech and civil discourse work together as two interlocking parts of the mechanism of social change—that is, the mass changing of minds. Freedom of speech not only allows a variety of perspectives to compete in the marketplace of ideas but also grants the least powerful in society the ability to criticize their government and other institutions that affect civic life. Civil discourse, in turn, applies a rigorous test to those ideas: Do they stand upon closer inspection? Do you persuade other people?

At this point you may be thinking that it takes time for good ideas to triumph over long-held prejudices, and you’d be right. As a recent graphic from Bloomberg News illustrates, social change does indeed take time. It’s understandable for people whose knees are buckling under the weight of injustice to be impatient. It’s understandable to speak the language of one’s pain and to condemn those who are sitting on the fence while one suffers. It’s understandable to discount civil discourse as a milquetoast method, a too-slow route to achieve the sort of changes that should have happened yesterday. In the midst of all of this, it’s worth reflecting on the following questions: How do we create lasting change? Are my words changing any minds?

The reality is this: civil discourse wins. The "idiot, full of sound and fury" may have his moment upon the stage, but it is the reasoned, strategic, methodical communicator—the James Madison, the Frederick Douglass, the Margaret Chase Smith, the Ella Baker—who carries the day and changes minds for centuries. Madison used cool logic and quiet coalition-building to shred the overly pessimistic arguments of antifederalist firebrands like Patrick Henry. Douglass' eloquence proved in soaring counterpoint that a former slave could shape the discourse of a flawed democracy. Smith, at the time the only woman serving in the U.S. Senate, was the first of Senator McCarthy's peers to condemn his anti-communist witch-hunt, which she contended stood at odds with the American tradition of protecting "the right to hold unpopular beliefs." Baker may not have been given the chance to speak like Martin Luther King, Jr. or Fred Shuttlesworth, but she moved heaven and earth as a behind-the-scenes organizer in the civil rights movement, coordinating successful campaigns like the Freedom Rides in the face of vile, violent opposition.