The Nature of Argument: Why I'm Right and You're Wrong

Nothing can reduce a roomful of grown, educated adults in the midst of enlightened conversation into a bubbling, incoherent gathering of simians incapable of language than a spirited debate over the correct pronunciation of the word "Worcestershire Sauce". Everyone believes that they pronounce it in the correct way, and might ask as to the correct pronunciation, but will secretly disbelieve the other person and continue to follow their own guide for pronouncing the name of that tasty, tasty sauce.

In this case, the "orcest", "shire", and "sauce" are silent. It will boost your burgers however.

Seriously.

There are certain truths that we all believe upon which we believe that only we know the truth and the Ultimate Answer to. For some of us, this is valid. I fully expect the heart surgeon to be able to tell me that my arteries are clogged with the Ghosts of Bacon-ater's Past. I personally would not know such things because I'm not a heart surgeon. That's why I'm paying this guy to tell me that I should have gone for a light jog twice a week for the last ten years before having to pay for expensive open heart surgery. Then again, I love my Bacon-ater, and am unwilling to give that up to just anyone because only I know of it's delicious flavors and sustenance.

(Side-note - why in the world does anyone need a 1,200 calorie sandwich? Knowing what I know now about personal nutrition and physical fitness, it doesn't ultimately matter what you put into your body so long as it's in limited portions that don't overload your body all at once with the cries of 1,000 racks of bacon sizzling in the oven. Also, I know that people who exert a lot of energy in workouts (i.e. runners) need somewhere between four and six thousand calories a day just to maintain weight and energy. That being said, the Bacon-ater violates that very creed, and none of the people that I've seen clutching one in their greasy grasps are, shall we say, out for a light jog and just stopping by Wendy's on the way back. The only way they're running anywhere is if they're running a LAN party that night for Call of Duty 37: PostModern Warfare. And if you by some chance are actually a runner, and claim you need the Bacon-ater to give a sudden jolt of calories, well...I don't believe you. What are you prepping for, running to Kenya?)

If this were an actual mountain, the calories might be justified.

An example of where the "I know this better than you ever will" starts to rankle people a little comes from Tim Tebow, football star extraordinaire. (This could have been a follow-up to the article about Tim Tebow last week, but I personally feel that he has been discussed over such a broad spectrum of opinions and talk shows and columns that I feel I don't have much more to offer to the discourse. With that said, this paragraph will be my last mention of Tim Tebow, I promise. Sorry, the Ginger.) A recent episode of ESPN's "Outside the Lines" examined how many people are upset about Tebow's preaching of his Christian beliefs. Strike that, his strongly Baptist Missionary beliefs that when boiled down, assure you that you are going to Hell if you don't acknowledge Christ the Savior in your heart, mind, and soul. This is understandable. I'd get upset if I were told that I'm going to hell because I don't believe in the same version of Christ that someone else does. Especially if that someone was a man who is paid millions of dollars to execute the Triple-Option. I don't want to be optioned to hell. I want to drink my beer and eat my wings in peace while cheering the Triple-Option on to victory. But that's just my feelings on the subject. (Go Broncos?)

Religion as a topic of conversation is something that always veers dangerously close to the "I'm right and you can suck it" feeling, mostly because it is founded upon belief. If you believe that you are right about something, solely as an article of faith, it is entirely likely that you will belligerently defend yourself. It is also likely that when confronted with someone who is able to back up their belief with a series of facts (St. Augustine comes to mind here, as does a varying set of Bible verses), that your belief will shrink further and further into the corner of a room, like a caged animal cornered by big game hunters that knows that it's toast, but is still gonna disembowel the first guy with a spear to get too close before it's time to face the music. (Otherwise known as Holiday with the In-Laws) Because religion is a belief, it is also that much more personal, and consequently, someone telling you that you are wrong about it offends your very nature and persona. No one likes being wrong, especially about something that is for many of us part of how we self-identify. (Because I can't really back up my beliefs about religion, god/goddess/Jesus/flyingSpaghettiMonsters, I shy away from religious conversations with the claim of agnosticism, with the intent that "yes, you literally have no idea of what you're talking about, so you are not worthy of my time" coming across strongly. In my own personal system of belief, avoiding these conversations made for a dull freshman year, but should also extend my lifespan by five years. Ooh-rah.)

That a sense of personal identification with what we believe to be right and wrong and everyone else can (suck it) look to us for guidance is somewhat of a foundation of the Western world. That discourse on what is right and wrong have shaped the Western world is somewhat of a fact. The problem, however, is a loss of the means to discourse intelligently and not belligerently on any given subject. More and more, those who have been given power tend to shy towards the means of keeping that power, which is turning into a variation of that cornered big game animal fighting against all odds. However, the problem is debate, not that we're going to be speared by game hunters.

Take a look at any recent political debate. What should in theory give candidates an open forum to discuss plans for how they would function in office, showing off their leadership abilities, and highlighting what makes them most apt for whatever political leadership they are running for. Nowadays, it's not about highlighting plans and qualities so much as who believes in what the strongest, and who can point out the most flaws in another person. What troubles me the most in this arrangement is not that it is what it is, for the nature of running for political leadership has been to rake your opponent over the coals since the early 1800's. That's almost accepted in politics, and no one really seems eager to put a foot forward to stop it. (Case in point: any candidate that says they want to change the way business is done in Washington. The very nature of that business is to join the business. Once you're in, you're effectively compromised, but you'd rather not lose that sense of power, so you continue to function in the same way as the person you last defeated until someone else comes in wanting to change the way that YOU did business, so that they can take over and realize the same thing, etc. I'd cite this as a reason Obama continues smoking.) What bothers me is that people accept that the idea of a modern political debate is almost a farce that will be full of talking head points, but with no substance to it. Once they've accepted this, however, everyone still falls right into the same game of blindly supporting whatever candidate is favored by their own political belief system. Everyone realizes the game is silly, but we continue to play it out of a fear of the alternative to playing the game. We realize cake is bad for you, but gosh is butter cream frosting delicious!

In politik terms, this cake represents why you'll need socialized health care.

National debate, in recent years, has become even more drawn out of the disagreement over how to pronounce Worcestershire Sauce, or our obstinate refusal to let go of our own personal beliefs for so long as to compromise what we believe in. It is against our very nature to admit to ourselves that what we believe not only might not necessarily be true for ourselves, but is even less likely to be what would be best for the other person. In one example, (and I'm being very general here, so please forgive me) liberals believed in 2010 that Americans had a right to quality, affordable health care, and shouldn't have to pay an arm and a leg (literally) to keep their health insurance. This might be seen as an accepted viewpoint by everyone, unless you're secretly a social Darwinist, in which case, the sick should suffer and the healthy should have a giant picnic right out of Triumph of the Will. (Oh dear) However, conservatives, while agreeing in principle to the idea that people should be able to afford to take care of themselves, don't want to have to pay for other people. This is understandable. A person who has worked hard for their money shouldn't be forced to give a great portion of it away to take care of those who haven't earned what you've earned through hard work. You know, unless you're Jesus, but even then, he's an exception. (Avoid religion, avoid religion, avoid religion....) What results is a giant deadlock, or inability for either side to compromise around what they see is right.

Extend this for two years and you can see why Washington doesn't get things done. Even worse, the development of the fringe movements of the Tea Party and the Occupy protestors have further given people cause to back up their beliefs with strict, dogmatic obsessions.

We have been taught since children to believe in things, and to stand up for what we believe in. However, that system of beliefs is starting to backfire, as people believe too strongly in the simplest things and the greatest things so fervently so as to remove any chance for mingling our system of beliefs.

This is not to say that we should compromise all the time. The opposite of belief is nihilism, and a belief in nothing ultimately provides no consequence to any action that might be taken. A belief in compromising our ideals takes away from who we are to such a point that there is no moral ground for any of us to stand on in terms of completing the things that we desire.

The only solution?

None. It's pronounced Worstersher Sauce. Jesus, get it right.

(Postscript #1: Shorter blog entry today, mostly because I wanted to try writing a theme from one idea/observation I had during the week. This turned into a little bit of something I hadn't fully expected here, and only vaguely felt preachy to write. There should be a holiday wrap-up coming up next week, but for this week, it was either write about this or write about job interviews. The opening line for this seemed sillier, so you'll just have to wait until 2012 probably for Job Interview 2011: The Year of Seven Jobs (Minus Steve).