BY WILLIAM F. GAVIN | MAR 30
I once read that Lord Louis Mountbatten, the last British Viceroy of India, said: “It is a curious thing but true that in all important decisions I made in my life, I have never been wrong.”
While my record is not quite as unblemished as that of Lord Mountbatten, I can at least lay claim to one accomplishment: after decades in politics, I have never been argued out of a strongly-held political position or belief and I also have never changed anyone’s mind about politics on the basis of an argument I have made.
It would seem I am not only impervious to reasoned argument but incapable of sustaining one myself. No doubt there’s more truth in such a view than I am prepared to admit, but it doesn’t explain everything. I believe most people who care passionately about politics share a similar history.
Yes, I have re-thought and modified my beliefs and opinions through the years, but those changes occurred gradually, through experience, by what might be called facts on the political ground, good or bad, and not through the power of an opposing argument. And I have often “proven my point” when engaged in arguments, but the best that can be said about such victories is that I gained “debater’s points,” which only irritate but do not convert an opponent.
The passage of years has, in many instances, lessened the intensity and the fixed certainty with which I have argued and held my positions, but fundamentally I have not changed the bedrock conservative principles I learned when I was in my late 20’s, in National Review magazine, during the mid-to-late nineteen fifties.
A well-crafted political argument, combining relevant facts, consistent logic, “gotcha!” moments and deeply held views, can be entertaining, exhilarating, and in some cases enlightening. But whether the debate takes place between presidential candidates or in the local barroom, when the last argument has been made, and it is time to go home, has anyone’s mind been changed?
Even on the rarified level of presidential campaign debates, the question that is usually asked afterwards is “Who won?” rather than, “How many minds were changed by the arguments?”
There are admirable citizens who suspend judgment until all the arguments are made, but, in my view, not as many as the pundits believe. I have tried to find an instance in American political history when the sheer brilliance of an argument changed the mind of an opponent, but I cannot discover one. Anyone who has listened to as many Congressional debates as I have knows that in Congress, arguments are made not to convince an opponent but to put forth an already deeply held belief.
In politics, we make up our minds and then debate. We do not debate and then make up our minds.
One of President Obama’s greatest and most successful impostures is his presentation of himself as being a cool, rational, thinking machine, above the partisan fray, open-minded, the only adult in the room, and always ready to “evolve.” But, alas, he has proven himself to be as partisan and single-minded as any garden-variety politician and I believe he will be remembered by history (about which, in his own mind, he is on “the right side”) as someone more interested in the pursuit of votes than he is in the pursuit of disinterested judgments. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
Does this mean all political debate is meaningless? Not at all. Even if we do not convince our opponents we at least can attempt to present our case with a maximum of care if only to clarify our positions for their own sake. But let’s not kid ourselves that debates are procedures to change minds or enlighten a disinterested public.
To paraphrase of words about education written by Thomas Love Peacock, the 19th century British satirist: “Debate leaves us pretty nearly as it found us with the single difference that it gives a fixed direction to our stupidity, a sort or incurable wry-neck to the thing we call understanding. So one nose points always east, another always west, and each is ready to swear it points due north.”
Of course if you don’t agree, I’m always open to debate.
Editor’s Note: William F. Gavin was a speech writer for President Richard Nixon and long-time aide to former House Republican Leader Bob Michel. Among his books is his latest, Speechwright, published by Michigan State University Press.