OPINION: The value of discourse

Editor's Note: The views and opinions expressed in this article do not reflect those of The Collegian. 

Discourse is at the heart of all functioning democracies. In today’s age, it frequently feels as though discourse cannot happen with those that disagree with us. For one reason or another, it always seems to end in anger and raised voices. 

In America, it can feel like discourse has broken down completely. Democracy doesn’t die when laws are passed or repealed; it dies when dialogue ends. It dies when we lose faith that our fellow Americans, however wrong we believe them to be, are still capable of good faith. It dies when we stop believing that our America can include those that disagree with us.

A widely held belief in America today is that our politics are fundamentally broken. Take the current government shutdown as a prime example: despite the fact that federal workers are going without pay, active-duty military service members are at risk of missing a paycheck and 42 million people face a financial cliff on November 1st when SNAP payments stop going out, lawmakers have failed to even begin negotiations to end the impasse. 

Despite pleas from party leadership in both chambers, the president has not invited members of either party to the White House in hopes of forging compromise. Without that intervention, it’s unlikely that Congress will be able to find a solution in the near future.

This feeling of governmental incompetence extends far beyond the present moment. Many Americans believe that politicians run for office to serve themselves, not their constituents. Many of these same politicians, aided by partisan media and self-interested influencers, have convinced millions that those who differ from them politically are not merely the opposition, but the enemy, and an enemy who poses an existential threat to their way of life. Our algorithms show us only the best of our side and the worst of theirs. Our social circles rarely include anyone who thinks differently than we do. This digital and social segregation has not only eroded our civility, but our capacity for empathy.

It was with that concern in mind that the University of Richmond College Democrats and College Republicans began to discuss the possibility of a live debate between the two organizations. Not to deepen the divide, but to demonstrate that people can disagree, and do so passionately, even fiercely, while still seeing one another as peers first and political opponents second.

On Tuesday, Oct. 28, after more than a year of discussion, revision and renegotiation, that possibility finally became a reality. I, alongside Sophie Christianson and Aniska Manojkumar, represented the College Democrats, facing off against Max Williams and Anthony Lucchese of the College Republicans. In a debate organized by UR Speech and Debate, we had the opportunity to present, critique, and defend our positions on issues of public safety, immigration, abortion, gun violence, and free speech on campus.

In the days since, there’s been a sort of debate about the debate. On the anonymous social media platform Fizz, UR “fizzers” have lit up the platform with commentary and arguments about who won, whose arguments landed better and even who looked better. 

Some of it has been sharp, some of it lighthearted. But, in the midst of the noise, I worry that something has been lost: the point was never about victory. It was about possibility.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I am incredibly proud of the performance, delivery, and raw talent that the College Democrats brought to the stage, and though I may be biased, I believe we presented a more factual, cohesive and uniting vision for what America can, and should, be than did the Republicans. Nor do I believe that, in the name of discourse, one should compromise their core values. I fundamentally believe that Americans are entitled to healthcare, that our welfare system is woefully inadequate, that our immigration system is callously inhumane and that the attacks on women, on the LGBTQ+ community, and on immigrants, are efforts to control, to vilify, and to scapegoat some of the best in our society.

That wasn’t the point of the debate. By engaging in direct, unfiltered and civil discourse, we proved that the possibility for dialogue in America hasn’t died completely. It is battered, yes. It is strained, absolutely. But, it endures, and it does so because we choose to continue reaching out to those we disagree with, if not to persuade them, then to understand them. That endurance matters, because if there is any hope for the future of this country, it will not come from another viral soundbite or partisan victory lap. It will come from the willingness of ordinary people to talk, and more importantly, to listen.

We often speak of “saving democracy” as if it is a task for presidents, senators or judges. In other words, we speak of it as if it is a task for the “important people.” What we must understand, and what a major purpose of this debate was, is to illuminate the importance and power we each possess. 

We each have the power of our thoughts, of our beliefs, and of our words. We may each only be one vote in a sea of millions, but the power of discourse can change one person’s mind, and then another’s, and then a thousand minds, and those thousand can change a state’s, and that state’s can change a nation’s, and that nation’s can change the world’s. It’s maximalist, absolutely, but to believe your voice has power is to believe that, in time, your voice can change the world.

Democracy, in truth, is saved or squandered in moments like Tuesday’s: on college campuses, in classrooms, in libraries, or around dinner tables where people who love their country enough to disagree still sit down together. Tuesday’s debate wasn’t perfect, to be sure. We sparred, we interrupted and we became heated at times (hello, gun violence section!). But, despite its imperfection, we reminded one another that disagreement does not preclude respect. That passion and civility are not mutually exclusive. That discourse, true discourse, demands not the silencing of opposition, but the courage to engage with it. The debate proved that people can be political opponents without being personal enemies. We can disagree on policy and yet recognize our humanity. That is part of the beauty of America, and it is on all of us to protect it.

Our nation will not be healed by silence, but by noise. By the noise of millions of us engaging with one another, whether we agree or not. By seeking out opposing opinions and by deepening our understanding of the nation we all call home. It will be healed by speech. Free speech. Honest speech. Speech that stirs the pot not to “rage-bait” but to express, to feel, and to understand. 

Unlike what some may wish us to believe, to debate is not to destroy. To debate is to preserve. It is to reaffirm the radical idea that, in America, ideas are not imposed from above, but forged through the clash of minds willing to meet as equals. From the people, one and all, themselves deciding what they want America to look like.

So yes, the divide is real. The cynicism runs deep. The anger, fatigue and distrust are all depressingly prevalent. But, if five students at a small university in Virginia can sit across from one another and find common ground, even if that common ground is only to agree to disagree, then hope remains. The spirit of America is not one easily defeated, and if Tuesday’s debate, and the interest it generated on campus, is any indication, many of you are eager to usher in a new era of understanding so terribly lacking in society today.

Discourse is not a luxury. It is not a relic of some “gentler past.” It is the very lifeblood of self-governance. To speak and to listen is to participate in the American experiment itself. So many bet against us today, let’s show them that our generation won’t be the one to sign America’s death certificate but to renew its lease on life. If we are to do that, it won’t be because we shouted louder, but because we dared to speak when it would have been easier to stay silent. 

Contact contributor Trey Madison at Trey.Madison@richmond.edu