Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Gods and heroes

First, read the article about Scalia in last week's New Yorker. Nino could easily be the next Chief Justice, but that wouldn't have much of an effect on the court overall. He's a fascinating character, and my money is on him to be, if not the smartest justice, the most lively. I love hearing him, I love reading him, I love reading about him. I also disagree with virtually every position he takes, but that's beside the point. I like what he says about a lot of things, and as the New Yorker article points out, if there's one thing he isn't, it's a relativist. He responds to what the words say, not to some hidden, secret meaning. For instance, he points out rightly that there is nothing in the Constitution about a wall of separation between church and state. That is not in the first amendment. It's in a letter Jefferson wrote. Scalia's job is applying the Constitution to cases brought before the court, not applying the epistles of Thomas Jefferson (who, of couse, had little hand in writing the Constitution).

I too believe in what words say. I like the fun aspects of relativism, but I apply strict interpretation to debate resolutions. It's a much thinner gruel than interpreting the Constitution, but I know I'm not on Bush's short list for the court, and I accept that.

It boils down, maybe, to being in the word business. I've been writing since fifth grade. I've been published a few times. I've been an editor since high school, professionally so since 1971. Words are the air I breathe. I'm very good at manipulating them, and pretty good at understanding them. And while I like the Humpty-Dumpty approach to words meaning what I want them to mean, and while I like occasional critical analyses that turn words upside down to show their "real" meaning, I pretty much go for the straightforward. You should be able to tell that from reading this blog. Which makes it something of a dance to be working so hard on a treatise about modern theory, since I only like it the way I like Prince of Persia on the PS2, as a game that eventually grows pretty tiresome and which is no substitute for reality. But I do like exercising my brain, and it does do that. And I get to write about it, and I like that too.

I like to write. So shoot me. One of the things I like about debate is that I meet up with the occasional good young writer, and there is a meeting of the minds. Being a good writer is a nice skill if you're a debater. Writing a clear case is, shall we say, a leg up. Not only does the presentation of your ideas work, but good writing forces you to work out your ideas clearly before you have a finished product. You can't write well about something about which you know nothing. Or at least you can't be very persuasive about your areas of ignorance. At least not for long.

Secondly, for those of you who remember there was a first in this entry, I don't disagree much with Noah's version of events. (Noah is one of those good writers. So is my daughter. There are others.) I continue to learn how to handle a large team versus a small salon, but what I've ended up doing is, when I can, breaking the large team up into small salons. I also know what my skills are, vis-a-vis training debaters, plus what my limits are, and I don't try to overstep either. My goals are not competitive, although Noah is correct that I have appreciated the effect competitive success has on individuals. I do like you to win, in other words, because that will make you feel good, but if that is all you get from three or four years of me, the ability to win debate rounds, I have done a piss-poor job indeed. Granted, I don't connect with everyone -- who does -- but I do connect with a good number. If I do connect with you, you'll know more than you started out about a lot of things. I'll get a lot out of it too; I've learned a hell of a lot in the last decade in areas I had never cared about previously. It's been fun.

(Sounds like a retirement speech. It isn't.)

Third, I think that one of the reasons I prefer tab rooms these days, aside from the fact that I'm experienced enough to tab like a house afire, is the remove from the field. I'm like Noah. I like debating the topic. I believe strongly that arguing important ideas of value improves our society, even in the narrow realm of academic debating teams. Those ideas stick with us in our lives outside the tournament. If we argue separation, or cultural diversity, or the problems of democracy, we make ourselves better citizens overall. When we duck the content of these arguments, when we don't take clear positions on one side or another (regardless of our belief in those opinions), we are no better citizens and do nothing to improve society. Then, well, it's just words. And while I like words -- hell, I love words -- words used in this fashion are pretty sterile.

That's my brief against must of modern theory, for that matter: it's sterility. Academics qua academics.

Once again, pfft!

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