Pyrrhic Politics
If politics is the art of compromise then current political debate should unsettle you. I say this because political debate is becoming more extreme, is polarising fast. This matters. Polarisation throws sand in the gears of government. It creates political impasse, as we saw with Congress’s shutdown. And it saps our empathy for political rivals.
Likely, we’d all benefit from more civil political debate — debate where disagreement is managed charitably. This wouldn’t erase the pluralism of open societies; Brits are not in danger of becoming the Borg. But it would sharpen our sense of why people hold different values and beliefs, and so make us less sure of ourselves, and more willing to rub along with people who don’t share our views.
So why isn’t this happening?
There are deep and well-known reasons why political debate is often uncharitable. Political beliefs elicit strong emotion, and are often tied to identity. This makes them natural candidates for motivated reasoning and asymmetric Bayesianism.
There are also, though, more specific causes of uncharitable debate — two of which seem underappreciated.
The first is: not going to the source. Most people discover political rivals’ beliefs indirectly: we let our allies describe them, rather than ask rivals themselves. This is an obviously bad epistemic procedure. Allies will often put rivals’ beliefs uncharitably. And so if we learn mainly from them we’ll gain false images — we’ll come to think our rivals hold beliefs more extreme than their actual ones.
Something like this process, I think, often underlies uncivil political debate. Both sides associate the other with views they don’t actually hold, which produces fiery debate at cross purposes. It was Bernard Williams who said — correctly — that our beliefs about political rivals are usually not even caricatures. They’re caricatures of caricatures. I’d add only that this fact encourages shite debate.
Another overlooked cause of incivility in politics is: bad incentives.
Increasingly, debate tactics that would make even Machiavelli blush are rewarded over sober empiricism and reasoning. Political debate is no longer directed towards finding common ground or the better view, but dominating rivals verbally. Which I suspect relates to a broader change in politics.
For many people, politics is now not about governance: the question of how we reconcile our often conflicting interests. Instead, it is a mere canvas to display their alleged virtue on — one where they expect to laud their side and trash the other. A big reason politicians debate eristically, then, is simply that people want them to.
Now, all this said, you might expect me to be pessimistic about radically improving the quality of political debate — and you’d be right. But I do think there’s a case for amelioration here.
We can take small steps towards better debate. For example, we can learn to adjust for our own biases; we can get better at dissociating beliefs from their bearers; and we can do more to draw out latent empathy.
And I certainly feel we should try. For it seems clear the UK’s inability to face its problems (like low productivity) and the rise of fringe figures (like Farage and Corbyn) partly stems from poor debate. My worry is that those who can best raise standards here, the media and centrists, won’t see this until things are far worse: they are too close to the problem. Fish never know they’re in water. Even when it’s churning.
