The Sad Debate of Affairs

“Sir Keir Starmer lied to the Labour Membership to get elected. Fact. Only idiots would vote for this man.” 

That was the tweet of self-declared socialist Art Crunchy (if indeed that is his real name), and the first one I found when I clicked on #KeirStarmer in Twitter’s trending topics for the day. “What has he lied about?” I replied.

“Search for it yourself. If you get stuck let me know.” Art kindly responded.

I had a look online. There were a few articles like ‘Keir Starmer Is Just As Dishonest As Boris Johnson’ and ‘Did Keir Starmer lie his way to the Labour Leadership?’. I had a read but wasn’t entirely convinced by their arguments. I also had this essay to write so I went back to Art…

“I’m stuck - please let me know. I don’t want to be an idiot, but if I don’t vote for him then (given current political system) wouldn’t I be helping Tories stay in power (which I don’t want given the past 12 years)?”

At this point @PryceOfWitzend helpfully chimed in: “And if you do (vote for them), you get exactly the same thing, but with a squirt of lube."

Having spent Christmas with my in-laws trying to manufacture conversations to prove how dire I thought debate had become, all it took was three tweets. But then the writing gods really delivered. Art sent another tweet…

“Even the simplest of searches is beyond you” was posted with a screengrab of his search results (fortunately he had cropped out the navigation bar, who knows what we might have seen on his search history). In the screengrab there was an article from openDemocracy which I then read. Re-read. And read again. If this was going to be my first self-imposed Twitter pile-on then I wanted to tread carefully. A further tweet added: “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind despite not understanding at all what’s going on.”

“I'm trying to understand - hence my questions to you.” I replied. “I've seen some of what you shared, but he (Starmer) hasn't actually done anything yet. After all, he's in opposition. The article uses 'impression' 'seems' 'appears' on some of these 'lies' and so I'm trying to establish what's fact vs what's people upset that he's not as socialist as he said he was going to be. Which brings me back to my original questioning: if I don't vote Starmer, wouldn't I be helping Tories stay in power? Is that what you/we want?”

Art then delivered his last tweet. “So you know already that he’s a lying chump with no principles and you’re just wasting my time. This is why I seldom bother with you people. Off you trot.” This was followed by one final flourish…

My interaction with Art is an ugly encapsulation of everything that’s wrong with conversations today. The opinion presented as fact. The insult. The polarisation. And then the shutdown. It’s also one of the reasons why it’s easy to get depressed about the future. If we can’t elicit basic arguments from each other, how on earth can we solve the global conflicts or climate crisis we now face? We’re more out of our depth than a week one candidate on The Apprentice.

To avoid getting fired, either by Lord Sugar or rising temperatures, we need to improve our conversations. A lot. 

Back to basics

According to the conflict consultant David W. Angel, there are four types of conversation:

1. Discourse: a one-way speech which delivers information, like a lecture.

2. Diatribe: a one-way speech which expresses a view, like an address at a rally.

3. Dialogue: a two-way conversation which exchanges information, like a catch-up between friends.

4. Debate: a two-way conversation between those with opposing viewpoints where the aim is to win or convince.

A good conversation should engage us, inspire us, make connections, and help us feel understood. So when was the last time you had a good one? I doubt it was your Boxing Day chat with the family member you see once a year. That was probably forgettable, one-sided, and boring. Sorry Uncle Geoffrey.

We’ve lost interest in having good conversations. This applies to both dialogues and debates, but for the rest of this piece I want to focus purely on the latter for reasons which I hope will become clear. As such, going forward I’ll use the terms ‘conversations’ and ‘debates’ interchangeably. I’ll also use ‘we’ in the societal sense i.e. you may not be guilty of some of the actions I describe, but you still have a massive part to play in making conversations better.

Debates have become monologues. People shouting over one another, unable to find common ground. Personal experience is used to present factual statements and debates are shut down when they’re not going how one side wants. All of this is played out in my ‘chat’ with Art and, more robustly, was addressed by John Dryzek and colleagues in an article from 2019.

They wrote about a “decline in civility and argumentative complexity”, felt truth displacing facts and evidence, and a shortage of listening and reflection. The result? We’re more likely to listen to partisan opinions. We get politicians offering up simple solutions (e.g. populism). And we lose trust in political systems, with civic engagement then declining. This is a big deal, especially with the climate crisis upon us.

Ed Hawkins’ Warming Stripes (which act as the cover to Greta Thunberg’s The Climate Book) are a stark reminder of the progressive rise in global temperatures. 

“The most effective way for us to get out of this mess is to educate ourselves and others,” writes Greta Thunberg in her recent book. This requires debate and a willingness to actively listen, something which has become increasingly difficult. “We are living in a serious attention crisis,” says Johann Hari in his book Stolen Focus: Why You Can’t Pay Attention, referencing a study which found office workers only focus on average for three minutes at a time. 

This is exacerbated by our love for multitasking and smartphones. When was the last time you looked over to your phone? Perhaps, worryingly for me, it was in the last few minutes. Research in 2013 by Andrew K. Przybylski and Netta Weinstein found that if two people could see a smartphone while they were having a conversation then they reported reduced levels of closeness, connection, and conversation quality.  

All of this creates a not-so-perfect storm in which debates are now only useful in fuelling division, apathy, or despondency about the world and people around us. 

Something has to change, not least because progress on big issues like the climate crisis can only happen when we speak with each other. An effective conversation - which Elizabeth Stokoe (a professor of social interaction) says is “one that generates the least misunderstanding, the least friction, the least need to do the thing again”¹ - also creates the positive social interactions needed to improve self-esteem and psychological health. 

In short, we need to have better conversations for the sake of our health and the planet’s. There are no easy ways to do this. But, give me 10 more minutes and I’ll show you some of the less-hard ones.

How did we get here?

Today’s debates have three main traits: polarisation, dehumanisation, and a shoddy use of qualitative and quantitative data. Like a good doctor, before we can look at how to deal with each, we must first look at why they exist.

First up, polarisation. 

We live in an increasingly volatile and complex world. A world we try to simplify to make more palatable. This is what populist politicians have tapped into in the past 10 years, telling ‘ordinary’ people that the ‘elite’ are creating complicated systems that don’t benefit them. These politicians have offered extreme simplicity, with extreme being the key word.

The media, in all of its shapes and forms, has fuelled this polarisation. The major news channels force us to play a game of pick-a-side politics almost every day. They present two views: one right, one left, and rarely anything in the middle. Go! 

Both sides speak in diatribes. They bicker, bluster and criticise, feeding insecurities or stereotypes. This seems to be the aim for all media platforms right now, and I include the likes of Twitter, Instagram and Facebook within that. Articles and posts contain misleading headlines or facts to generate clicks, ire and engagement. At the risk of sounding too QAnon, we’re shown what the platforms want us to see because that keeps our eyeballs on their adverts. This isn’t some grand conspiracy, only the logical consequence of an algorithm-based user experience. And because we can’t see the other side of the debate, it’s easy to forget that it’s there. We don’t challenge or question ourselves, whether by time or inclination, and then we spread what we’ve seen.

So that’s the mechanics behind some of the polarisation, but why has it taken hold so cancerously? 

For this I defer to my Mum. Not an expert, but an eye-witness. “We don’t have roots anymore or a real collective identity. Our interest in institutions, the church, and communities has faded, and with this we’ve become more self-protectionist. So when someone taps into our fears with a simplistic view, we take it. We don’t want to lose anything and this creates a me-versus-you society.”

This leads us into trait two: dehumanisation. 

We can’t hold two contrasting views of someone, or something, in our heads anymore. You’re either good or bad (or evil if we’re on Twitter). Again, life’s simpler this way. For one thing, you don’t have to read Harry Potter anymore because J.K. Rowling got cancelled. One minute she’s creating a magical realm for children. The next those same children are casting her off to a non-loving domain…

Technology has allowed us to dehumanise people. On a keyboard we can shout and belittle in ways we would never dream of doing face to face. But this isn’t progress. It’s a plague. 

If you’re the goodie then you may feel morally superior after you criticise the baddie, but the baddie wants your anger. It confirms to them that you’re the idiot. The irrational one that doesn’t get it, just like everyone else. And so the polarisation deepens.

Technology has also given us a voice. As Nihal Arthanayake writes in his book Let’s Talk: How to Have Better Conversations, “the chance to show off through debate and discourse has captivated the upper and middle classes for as long as there has been a social contract called class.” Well there’s a lot of showing off going on on platforms like Twitter, and not very much accountability. 

And what happens when people are challenged? Well that leads us to trait three: shoddy use of qualitative and quantitative data.

“I think the 3.4% is really a false number,” replied Donald Trump on March 5th 2020 when asked about a World Health Organisation report that said the global mortality rate for COVID-19 was 3.4% globally.

“Now, this is just my hunch, but based on a lot of conversations with a lot of people that do this… A lot of people will have this and it is very mild. They will get better very rapidly, they don’t even see a doctor or call a doctor, you never hear about those people so you can’t put them down in the category, in overall population in terms of this corona flu, or virus.”

In the past ten years (I give that time period to allow for the build up to Trump’s run for President) politicians have discovered that they can get away with a lot. 

I’m not as clear as Art on this one, but Keir Starmer’s behaviour versus his pledges is questionable. He pledged “common ownership of rail, mail, energy and water” (which sounded a lot like nationalisation), yet later said he would not nationalise the big energy companies if Labour wins the next election. Meanwhile, last month Gillian Keegan (the UK’s Education Secretary if you’re not caught up with the latest evictions) suggested that teachers shouldn’t strike because “it’s a good career, it’s probably in the top 10% of earners in some parts of the country.” This is factually wrong.

Average teacher salaries versus the top 10% of earners, as reported by The Times in December 2022.

We consume information behind a screen, but conversations allow us to make sense of that information. They help us to think about what our opinion actually is, and can often be the first time we express a particular view. Therefore it’s wrong to assume we won’t make a conversational mis-step or be caught out by an opposing datapoint. However, when that happens we mustn’t double-down and reload with false ammunition.

As enacted by Trump and Keegan, people can be quick to get frustrated, cite personal experience over collective fact, mislead with data, or simply make stuff up. We’re all eager to show others why we’re right, yet loath to be shown why we may be wrong. As a result we’re not listening to what others say in case we’re left embarrassed or have our argument undermined. Conversations are combative while opinions are entrenched.

So that’s the diagnosis. Now the treatment.

Six things to do to have better conversations

The first three are pre-debate. The second are during.

1. Be aware of your own biases.

“The work begins before you get close to the person,”² writes Nihal Arthanayake who interviews people for a living on BBC Radio 5 Live. “Awareness of your own emotions, assumptions and blind spots is crucial… Does ‘cancelling’ a Nazi ensure that there is one less Nazi in the world to worry about?”

If we don’t catch our biases then whatever comes out of our mouths will be laced with judgement and disapproval. We may feel like the better person when we cancel someone, but all we’ve done is further alienate the other side. 

We must understand how personal morals, experiences and stereotypes shape our view, and how they in turn are shaped by the people we listen to and follow. It’s important to know where the gaps in our knowledge are, especially if we want to find common ground. 

2. Don’t debate to win, convince or change.

“The kind of conversation I like is one in which you are prepared to emerge a slightly different person,” said the philosopher and sociologist Theodore Zeldin.

You can’t change your Dad’s mind on Brexit over one hour, two bottles of wine, and three After Eights. If you think you can then you’ll likely antagonise and condescend. In fact, perhaps the whole notion of debating (and winning an argument) is outdated. Instead we should aim for dialogue: entering a conversation assuming we have something to learn, and using it to test our opinions, not our Dad’s.

The best guide for this is Mary McAleese, the eighth President of Ireland who worked on building bridges after thirty years of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. In all of her conversations and negotiations - which would have been fraught with anger and resentment the likes of which, I hope, you and I can only imagine - she maintained a clear approach: “I’m coming to you not as somebody who wants to change you, who you are, what you are, what you believe in, what your politics are or your identifying symbols; I want to come as a good neighbour.”

3. Learn how to interview people.

“Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply… They're filtering everything through their own paradigms.” So wrote Stephen R. Covey in his book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change.

Celeste Headlee’s TED Talk on ‘10 ways to have a better conversation’ has been viewed nearly 28 million times (good news: people clearly care about this). In it she reports that the average person talks at around 225 words per minute, but listens at up to 500 words per minute. Ergo, when you’re listening to someone, there’s a potential blank space of 275 words in which your mind may wander off onto other matters.

To ward off distraction, the Socratic method of questioning is a good place to start. Used by Socrates to get answers from students such as Plato (i.e. it’s pretty valid), you can split the method into five stages of questioning.

1. What do you mean by that?

2. What assumptions have you based your view on?

3. Why do you think those assumptions are true?

4. What’s an alternative view?

5. What are the implications of your view?

The main aim here is to improve critical thinking by asking questions. And then asking more questions. Oh, and I get it... It will feel unnatural asking probing questions within a set conversational structure. But I promise it will feel more unnatural having 40°C summers every year if we can’t get people talking about climate.

4. Stay on topic.

How often do you find yourself deep into a conversation (slash argument) and think: what are we actually talking about now?

Tangents are fine, but too often a debate just becomes a melting pot for different ideologies and grievances. If you’re talking about the rail strikes then talk about the rail strikes. Comments like, “but what about the nurses?” don’t help. This ‘whataboutery’ creates conversational chaos. It distracts from the topic at hand and conflates issues that should remain separate. 

This might be ambitious, but before you even begin a conversation, get everyone to agree on the idea you’re debating. A starter for ten? Nuclear power is the only viable renewable energy source we have right now. You know, the simple stuff. 

5. Don’t dismiss. Untangle. 

Time to bring out the big guns. 

"Part of what I think leadership requires, and I hope I meet the standard, is letting people know that you understand.” Joe Biden in November 2022.

We must be leaders in a conversation. Not dismissing views but instead untangling the fears that underlie them. Regardless of whether you think it’s right or wrong, the hurt or anxiety that the person across from you has, is legitimate and real to them. If you don’t get to the bottom of it then you will never understand why they think or act as they do. 

6. Avoid this phrase…

“We all know the phrase ‘Yes, but’ really means ‘No, and here’s why you’re wrong’,”³ says the conversation expert Rob Kendall. The phrase is a good warning sign that you’re either a) listening to reply, b) not understanding the other person’s underlying fears, or c) wasting your time. 

Reasons to be cheerful

I started this piece as a form of therapy, depressed by how divided we appear to be as a country and how poor our debate has become at a time when it is so badly needed. 

I finish it in a far more positive mood, not just because many of the populist politicians contributing to the poor debate (Trump, Boris Johnson, Jair Bolsonaro) have left us. For now.

What you see on social media - and on TV which is itself driven by social media either through the tweets it discusses or its desire to turn an interview into a viral hit - is not a true reflection of what people think. In 2020 the More in Common thinktank found that 12% of voters account for 50% of all social media users, and that a disproportionate amount of online political comment is generated by small and politically driven groups. Conversations like Art’s and mine are not a true reflection of society. They are also a reminder that both sides of the debate must be open and curious. 

In a recent Twitter thread, George Monbiot pointed to social tipping - the point at which social conventions flip, and the committed minority becomes the majority - as a framework for how we can create change. Particularly when it comes to the climate crisis.

“What this knowledge tells us is that it’s pointless and unnecessary to try to persuade people in the opposite corner. In seeking to do so, we have destroyed the efficacy of our movements, endlessly compromising for fear of alienating those most antagonistic to us. We *should* preach to the choir, but keep expanding the choir, pushing out the concentric circles until we reach the 25% penetration of a new perspective or a new idea that triggers social tipping.”

Monbiot argues that we don’t have to make our views more appealing to the opposing side. And we don’t have to meet neoliberals, reactionaries or fascists halfway (which is somewhat of a relief for many reasons). I think this overlooks the fundamental need to still listen to the other side and understand their fears. However, it highlights that all is not lost if the other side is not willing to have that dialogue.

And if that fails, then there is always hope. No matter how small that hope may be. You only have to look at the Troubles in Northern Ireland to see that progress can be made despite all of the signs suggesting otherwise. 

When Queen Elizabeth II became the first reigning British monarch to visit the Republic of Ireland since 1911, Mary McAleese said in her speech: “while we cannot change the past, we have chosen to change the future.” Choosing to have a better conversation is choosing to have a better future.

So if I can offer you one new year’s resolution worth keeping, it would be to have better conversations. No pressure, but the future of the planet depends on them. 

Footnotes

¹: Taken from Stokoe’s interview with Nihal Arthankayake in the latter’s book Let’s Talk: How to Have Better Conversations.

²: Taken from Nihal Arthankayake's book Let’s Talk: How to Have Better Conversations. 

³: Taken from ‘'Would you be willing?': words to turn a conversation around (and those to avoid)’ - The Guardian, 4th December 2017.