This week I want to talk about a trend in public discourse. I’d like to take a look at what happens when we take the middle ground. Compromise is a democratic ideal we use to try to satisfy several parties with one solution. When other ways forward fail, we settle for the middle road. Compromise comes from the best of intentions, but that doesn’t mean it is always done for the right reasons. We have to learn to differentiate between compromise and conflict-avoidance.
Often we are driven to compromise by one of two beliefs. Idealists insist that each side of an argument deserves an equal voice. Others believe the solution to all things truly lies down the middle path.
Examining both sides of an issue is essential to composing an argument. You cannot show that your idea is better than another without addressing the opposing idea. If you’re to have a leg to stand on, you must consider what merits and drawbacks apply to every position. You are stress testing each idea to see which is the stronger framework for action.
This practice becomes a problem when we forget this sort of “fairness” serves a purpose: to make decisions based on all the available information. When this stops being a tool, it becomes a superstition: Commentators hold up ideas as sacred and refuse to draw parallels, but having two options does not make them equally valid, as when UF President Kent Fuchs stated last week that, “Scientists drink Coke, Christians drink Pepsi.” There is not a 50-50 chance it will rain or not tomorrow, despite the fact that those are the two options.
Giving both sides does not mean that neither can be criticized. Claims that one idea is superior to another are decried as “biased.” We must remember that “bias” is the unfair or irrational preference of one thing over another. To apply the same force to wood and steel will find that steel is the stronger material. This does not mean the test was biased. In this same way, you can still reach a conclusion without being biased.
What about the belief that compromise is simply the best solution? On its own, this belief is meaningless. The average of all options has no particular moral high ground. Neo-Nazis may advocate for genocide — meeting them halfway to the next holocaust does not make your stance more righteous. Compromise rarely makes anyone happy, but it does require less effort and concession than other options. It causes the least conflict, and that’s the point.
Most of us have been trained our entire lives to avoid conflict, and it is no wonder this shows in our rhetoric. It makes day-to-day social interaction run more smoothly, but lately it is leading us to yield ground to repellent ideas.
When we say that science and religion are just two equally valid approaches to the pursuit of truth, insist that barbaric cultural practices deserve as much respect as any other tradition and treat hatred and bigotry like just another political stance, we are engaging in a form of intellectual cowardice. We forget that the best solution is never the average of half a dozen bad options, and nothing worth having has ever come without a fight.
No matter how often we are told that reason does not matter, we must reject the claim that there can be no right answers. Arguing for what you believe can be stressful. You will be accused of being rude, over-enthusiastic and pedantic. Ethics, politics and religion may only be ideas, but they are ideas that guide how we treat others, and when it comes to the principles that guide our behavior, it does actually matter who is right.
David Billig is a UF linguistics masters student. His column appears on Wednesdays.