If you have been paying attention in recent years, you understand why the term “civil discourse” may feel risibly ironic. Can an argument, coded as a kind of battle, be civil? Is combat not in any form the complete opposite of the mutual respect implied in the term? Perhaps we would do well to remember that terms like “combat” and “battle” are common metaphors for argument, but they are not necessary metaphors. Could a reconceptualization of argument as something other than a kind of fight help?
In Metaphors We Live By, scholars George Lakoff and Mark Johnson point out how we, as a society, tend to conceptualize argumentation as a metaphorical war. They provide examples: “Your claims are indefensible. He attacked every weak point in my argument. His criticisms were right on target. I demolished his argument,” and so on. As an alternative conceptualization of argument, Lakoff and Johnson offer up a dance metaphor in which the implied goal would be to perform in a balanced and aesthetically pleasing way. They rightly suggest that an argument conceptualized as a dance probably would not be recognized as an argument at all.
I believe there is a benefit to both metaphors. In fact, I think ideal civil discourse is a combination of the two. In debates for which the stakes are relatively high, civil discourse is supposed to involve deliberation about the best course of action for ensuring, to the best of our ability, benefit for all stakeholders. This takes both a desire to win (use the best strategy to present your arguments while maintaining the ability to “shoot down” others) and a desire to move cooperatively, i.e., dance, by respecting the rules of engagement and appreciating the mutual benefit of “a marketplace of ideas.” Civil discourse is both a battle and a dance, but this combination doesn’t fit neatly into a metaphorical concept.
Or does it?
Conflict management and martial arts expert, Terry Dobson, and theater teacher Victor Miller seemed to see an apt metaphor for rhetoric in everyday life, e.g., civil discourse, in the art of Aikido. In Aikido in Everyday Life: Giving in to Get Your Way, Dobson and Miller explain that conflict is an unavoidable part of life; we must acknowledge it and learn how to manage it. The problem, however, is that we as a society immediately code conflict as something intrinsically bad. Dobson and Miller see this as a mistake and suggest we see conflict as neither good nor bad inherently, but as an opportunity for mutual gain. They see Aikido as an ideal metaphor for understanding and handling argumentative conflict, coining the term “Attack-tics” to denote “a wedding of the martial arts and theater” that “uses the physical throws and body movements of Aikido as metaphors for the way in which to handle all forms of social or psychological attack.” They continue:
“Aikido,” loosely translated, means a harmony of spirit and body, the opposite of what most of us experience when faced with conflict. It requires that the participant be “centered,” relaxed, and alert. Moreover, Aikido is primarily a form of self-defense; it does not teach you how to run right out and break the nearest arm. Likewise, Attack-tics will not teach you how to start conflicts. The balanced person rarely feels the need to cause trouble.
For Dobson and Miller, a balanced person does not seek trouble, but such a person does know how to deal with trouble once encountered. With the Aikido metaphor, conflict is an exchange of energy by which we do not wish to “destroy” another, but to transform the situation itself. Ultimately, the authors argue that one can technically lose an argument and still feel like a winner. This methodology, dubbed “Attack-tics” by the authors, is too involved to address fully in this essay, but the authors insist it is a powerful way forward in a pluralistic society modeled on the ideal of deliberative democracy.
The purpose of Attack-tics is, in part, to get us all to be able to stand outside the arena of win-and-lose so that we can decide, as objectively as possible, what is really happening in the conflicts we face. If we can meet an angry friend or a recalcitrant child without worrying about wins and losses, we will immediately be better, more understanding, more effective parents, friends, and workers.
The authors acknowledge the negative emotions associated with losing an argument, especially an argument about an issue near and dear to our hearts, but they argue that the Aikido metaphor can help us transcend the ideas of “win” and “lose” altogether.
Argument as Aikido acknowledges the war metaphor while simultaneously acknowledging the dance metaphor. It is engaging with conflict and redefining “winning” as the act of coming to the best conclusion for all involved, including the person or people with whom one is arguing.
This is not so much a book review as it is a book suggestion. What do you think about the Aikido metaphor? Is this what we need to mitigate societal polarization?