I haven’t been on the blog for awhile, in large part because I spent the last week at a conference at Princeton, discussing the work of Elizabeth Anscombe. As usual when I’m away for awhile, I came home with lots of ideas for potential posts, many of which will probably never be written. But one in particular seemed salient to life on this blog. It was inspired by an argument I had with another student at the conference, concerning philosophy and polemics. The question is: is it always better to be patient and respectful in discussion of another’s ideas? Or can there be a place for sarcasm, snarkiness, or even a little self-conscious unfairness in addressing other views?

The question was relevant at that conference because Anscombe herself most certainly had a sharp tongue, or pen as the case may be. There is no doubt that this makes her writing funnier and more enjoyable to read. I think it also quite frequently allowed her to make her points more effectively. There’s a certain way of writing a hit piece that, without doing full justice to the view being criticized, nonetheless gets it almost right, and thus brings to the fore certain significant features of the case that might be obscured by a more fine-grained analysis. This is the beauty of polemics, and our Catholic tradition features some very skilled polemicists (GK Chesterton springs to mind, or, in a more contemporary vein, bloggers like Diogenes.)

Of course, there are downsides to this sort of treatment. It lends itself very easily to a sort of mean-spiritedness that is not in keeping with Christian charity. It offends people, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but can be, particularly when the alienated group is a set of people who ought to be friends or allies. Sometimes it achieves the opposite of its intent by being too savage or too transparently unfair; readers are stunned into thinking the opposite of what the author was trying to argue.

In my view, polemics is like a potent weapon. It can be used to very good effect, but it must be used carefully and without self-indulgence. It’s perfectly all right to enjoy making rhetorical strikes against one’s enemies; in fact, I rather think such things should be enjoyed. A lighthearted element of play is often a good antidote to excessive viciousness. But caution must be exercised on many points. The polemicist must be careful who is attacked, taking care to play nicely with friends, and considering carefully when a gentler approach might serve better. He should be appropriately measured — overflowing rage and bitterness are rarely effective at making a point. And, finally, he should recognize his limitations. Polemics is a field where eloquence and cleverness really do count. Some humor and some well-turned phrases can make a big difference in the effectiveness of the message; few converts are won through ranting. Accordingly, those with less facility with language would be well advised to reign in their temper, and just be polite. Finally, polemicists should be prepared to recognize when they have gone overboard… and apologize.

Not everyone needs to be like this, of course. The world also needs figures like St. Thomas, who can be relied upon to be meticulous and fair to every view. Such reading can be a little dry, especially for the novice, but in some settings it is exactly what is wanted, and even those who don’t actually read that kind of work are nonetheless the beneficiaries of it. Much like the supports in a building, this kind of philosophical labor can provide shelter for far more people than would ever trouble to learn the details of how it works. The Church needs calm, systematic minds like the Angelic Doctor’s… but it seems to me that she also needs some hotheads like Chesterton, and there might be some ground in between these two as well.

What kind of contribution a particular person makes will depend in large part on temperament. I am inclined to think, in matters like these, that it is best to recognize one’s own tendencies and work with them, realizing that there is room within the Church for many different kinds of writing. So, for example, a person with a very analytic mind but no sense of humor should not embarrass himself with painful, exaggerated attempts to be clever. It’s perfectly respectable to be a dry but precise writer. On the other hand, sharp-penned people should not necessarily try to suppress their wit, nor should they live with perpetual feelings of guilt whenever they offend somebody. Such is the life of the polemicist.

If we were to draw an Aristotelian mean concerning modes of expression, I suppose we would find excessive timidity on one extreme end, and rudeness on the other. Navigating between these is no easy task, and I often encounter people who have settled in a rather unhealthy way on one extreme or the other, insisting either that politeness is a refuge of wimps, or else that all opinions should be treated with respect. Sometimes this leads to delicious ironies. For example, have you noticed how some people (particularly people with strong personalities) seem to feel that no language could possibly be too strong so long as the need for politeness is the subject under discussion? I’m not saying that excoriating others for their lack of courtesy might not sometimes be appropriate. I just think people should bear in mind that such messages, far from being courtesy-exempt, are confrontational in the extreme, and should not be expected to produce a conciliatory response in most cases. On the flip side, your “politeness is for wimps” people are often among the first to be enraged when their interlocutors come across as uncivil. Conversations between multiple people of this type can very quickly escalate out of control.

There is no single mode of address that can definitely be classified as the most “Christian.” So, instead of trumpeting the virtues of one form over another, I recommend developing a nuanced understanding of the benefits of different modes of speech. That might do more than anything else to improve communication and rein in unnecessary strife.