When I was little, every time I got into a verbal argument with my older sister there would be a point when I came up with a cutting remark that I knew she wouldn’t be able to retort to, as in those days my mouth was pretty sharp despite my diminutive size. And at this point too, my sister, who was physically far bigger than me, would glare at me while struggling for words, and finding none that was adequate, resorted to using the ultimate weapon of the inarticulate to fight me. She would pinch my arm so hard that tears welled up in my eyes. I refused to cry however, and bore the pain patiently until she let me go. She had the satisfaction of hurting me. But both of us knew who won the argument. I equated her anger and violence as a clear sign of defeat.
Since then I’ve been a great believer that you cannot win an argument except with a better line of argument, you cannot change someone’s opinion unless you provide a more persuasive one, and you cannot force someone to share your belief unless you successfully come up with a more convincing and rational explanation. Violence, censorship and criminalisation of what is ultimately an abstract debate is a clear sign of some sort of defeat, whether intellectual, moral or just plain rational argument.
Since then I’ve been a great believer that you cannot win an argument except with a better line of argument, you cannot change someone’s opinion unless you provide a more persuasive one, and you cannot force someone to share your belief unless you successfully come up with a more convincing and rational explanation. Violence, censorship and criminalisation of what is ultimately an abstract debate is a clear sign of some sort of defeat, whether intellectual, moral or just plain rational argument.
