
Some remarks which cannot fail to encourage the observation of a dispute
Jean PaulhanArticle published in Le Spectateur, n° 35, May 1912
We can call a dispute any active opposition, any debate, whether it is carried out with fists or arguments; It is thoughtful, reasoned dispute, discussion, because it is both more frequent and easier to observe, that we will deal with here.
Of two kinds of opinions which should, first of all, be neglected.
A few related ideas, habitual companions or chance encounters, sometimes obscure and hide the idea of an argument. We will endeavor to rule out the one which focuses only on the result of the dispute, then the one which wants, above all, to consider the degree of conviction of the adversaries.
It is said: “From discussion springs light. » It is also said: “A discussion never leads to anything.”
It’s a commonplace that: “What’s the point of discussing? That's not what changes anyone's mind. » Another commonplace answers: “Yes, but it serves to strengthen each person's idea. »
Contradictory as they seem, these commonplaces, and many others, are based on a similar assessment of the dispute: it is that this dispute has a goal, or at least a result, and that it must be judged according to this result: if it seems useful, the dispute receives praise - and criticism in the opposite case. We only know its value from the moment it is finished.
This is a very common conception: she appreciates the argument, as we do most things, for its immediate usefulness.
However, as we wish to study the discussion for its own sake, we may be very indifferent
that she is “happy” in this case, and “unhappy” in this other. Thus the naturalist takes little account of the common distinction between useful and dangerous animals.
We can go further. The utilitarian idea of the dispute risks leading us to some errors. She appreciates a discussion only to the extent that that discussion suppresses itself and hastens toward its end. She would prefer that “everyone agrees”, the argument, “which wastes time”, would thus become useless. For her, the skillful discussant is not the one who knows the art of prolonging an argument, but the one who knows how, having “nailed” his adversary, to stop him. She judges the dispute as a future heir can judge the uncle with an inheritance whom he does not know, esteeming in him only that which leads him to his end: sobriety then seems to him a vice, and drunkenness a virtue.
However, the friend who rejoices in this uncle's conversation, or the servant who receives his wages from him, are of a different opinion. And every time we want to know about an argument, we will also assess what makes it last, what enriches it and makes it more complex. That if the weakness or indifference of one of the adversaries stops it suddenly, we will regret what common opinion rejoices.
There is a second idea of the dispute, apparently different from that which we have just criticized, and which considers the degree of conviction of the adversaries. We will dismiss it as the first, because it mixes, for a practical purpose, facts of various natures. People say: “What’s the point of arguing with him? He doesn't believe a word he says. » Or: “If I were only sure that you mean what you say, I would show you that you are wrong. » Or again: “Don’t you see that he’s making you walk! » Commonplaces which all presuppose this opinion: a dispute is only useful, and it is only worth maintaining, if the two adversaries are equally convinced in the belief they defend.
Other commonplaces, based on the same opinion, want to assess conviction from the point of view of the arguments used, or these arguments from the point of view of conviction: “He argues too well: he must not believe a word of what he says. — He argues too well: he must be seriously convinced. — How badly he talks! And yet, he is very convinced. - He's not interested: so you understand that he doesn't take the trouble to have a good discussion. »
The very fragility of the asserted relationships leads us to some distrust here. It seems that one can, being sincerely convinced, discuss good or bad, and this for reasons reasons entirely foreign to the very nature of belief. On the other hand, it is possible, given the same discussion, to imagine it conducted by two convinced adversaries, or skeptics, or by a convinced discussant against a skeptical discussant. The opinion which wants to see in the argument the expression of a belief is therefore at least useless to us. Maybe she's dangerous. It restricts the field of our observation, by affirming that the dispute is the only valid one which is accompanied by equal convictions. However, there are many other disputes: she would like to prevent them from arising, just as the first opinion wanted them all to end sooner rather than later. It leads to distinguishing between useful and useless disputes; it is, in this respect, only a second aspect of the first opinion: the sincerity, the more or less true faith of the adversaries is only of interest to the extent that one hopes to see it modified by the discussion. To say: “I am sincere: I am not driven by any interest” amounts to this: “If you give me good reasons, I can be convinced. » And this commonplace: “Don’t argue with him; he does not believe what he says” means: “Your arguments will have no effect on him; your discussion is useless. » The second conception of the dispute is thus based on the same point of view of immediate utility as the first; it can lead us to the same errors.
* * *
Where we look for what a perfect discussion should be.
I'm sitting in an armchair, and I'm reading a novel; However, I firmly intend to get up when I have finished this chapter: I will go and sit near the table, and, having taken a sheet of writing paper, I will write a response to the invitation that I received yesterday.
An hour has passed, and I'm still reading the same novel. I didn't write the answer, which was in a hurry. I haven't stopped reading, nor looked for the note paper, and I tell myself that I was wrong to act in this way.
In intention as in regret, I represent the act: writing a response, as being a complete whole. I cannot imagine that the paper has disappeared, or that I cannot find the words with which to respond. And such a representation is the very reason for my intention, for my regret: it gives them meaning and a basis.
We are accustomed to thinking of a perfect act - I mean: responding, in all its details, to the intention of the man who acts -. This ideal model allows us to prepare future actions, to judge accomplished actions. And, as long as it concerns very simple facts, where our personality alone is at stake, we have no difficulty in imagining it. However, as soon as we find ourselves in the presence of a more complex event and presuming the intervention of a foreign person, our conception of a perfect act becomes cloudy and confused: or it applies only to the actions that we plan, neglecting those that our adversary wants to attempt, and becomes incomplete.
When starting a discussion, we think of these two possible events: either we will succeed in convincing our opponent, or we will fail. Whether he himself can lead us to share his beliefs, or even influence us, we do not foresee.
Thus, whether it is a question of preparing ourselves for the discussion, or, later, of criticizing it, we are in a much less advantaged situation than we were earlier, when carrying out a very simple act. The following remarks have no other purpose than to clarify what a perfect discussion would be. A and B have, one the belief x, the other the belief y. A wants to make B share belief x; B wants to share belief y with A. Let them both succeed: B will then have belief x, and A will have belief y. So that A will now want to make B share belief y, B will want to make A share belief x. We cannot deny them success once again. A again obtains belief x, and B belief y. A will therefore want to impose belief x on B and will receive belief y from him. We cannot imagine a perfect discussion other than as an indefinite exchange of beliefs.
We are only looking here for a method of observation that can suit any dispute. And that there has never been a perfect argument, in the sense in which we understand it, matters little. However, it is appropriate to clarify, and, in some way, to situate the preceding remarks by an example.
It sometimes happens to us, having one day discussed with a friend the qualities or faults of a particular person, to realize, at the next meeting, that each of us found himself convinced by the reasons which were given to him, and supports the opinion which he had initially criticized. Here is a discussion between a mother and her son, which we witnessed:
The mother: “Georges, do you want to take this letter to the post office?
Georges. — I’m still working; and besides, I'm tired; I had a big run today.
- Georges, will you go, please. It's a letter in a hurry.
— I assure you that it is impossible for me to go there. If she was in a hurry, she had to be carried sooner. »
(Pause.)
Georges: “Give me the letter, all the same. I'll go in a moment.
The mother. - But no; Really, I'm afraid you'll get tired. And then, I thought. Tomorrow morning I will send a little blue one.
— Give it to me, I'll run straight away. It will give me a rest from my work.
— You would get tired again, like the evening when you caught a cold. »
(Pause.)
The mother: “Well, since you insist, here she is. Just cover up before going out, and don't run.
Georges. — Look, now I'm back to work. Why didn't you accept earlier when I offered it to you?..."
It would be easy to prolong the argument. It is essentially an exchange of opinions and desires. It would end immediately if this exchange, for a single moment, did not take place.
* * *
Where we try to distinguish the successive phases of a dispute.
If we want to call x this opinion: G. must carry the letter, and y this one: G. must not carry the letter, the preceding dispute includes three phases:
First phase
- The mother supports the opinion x
- Georges supports the opinion there.
Second phase
- The mother supports the opinion there.
- Georges supports opinion x.
Third phase
- The mother supports opinion x.
- Georges supports the opinion there.
Or we can still say that one of the two opinions, x, was supported, at a first stage by the mother, at a second stage by Georges, at a third stage by the mother.
And, wanting to assess such another dispute, we will say that it reached its fifth phase: one of the opinions put into play reached its eighth stage, while the other did not go beyond the fifth. We thus have a very general principle, which should allow us to judge any new discussion, and to include it in an overall classification. With what reservations we want to indicate more precisely.
We can in fact make this objection: “Discussions of the type that you cite are very rare: they are somewhat ridiculous, and we know very well how to avoid them. Even when an adversary has succeeded in convincing us, we do not let it show, out of self-esteem, and even more so do we not use his own belief against him. Perhaps one dispute in a hundred reaches the second phase, and one in a thousand the third: is it useful to have a classification based on such exceptions?
“I want to bring you to my opinion; you resist me — without even having a very precise opinion; you don't share mine, that's all. - Or, and this is the most frequent case, the discussion has no results: our two beliefs, or rather mine alone, which was at stake, remains at its first stage. Or I was able to convince you, and my belief reached its second stage. I don't see that a real argument ever leads much further. »
These criticisms are based, for the most part, on the two opinions relating to the dispute, which we initially wanted to dismiss. They seem to suppose that only one opinion can be at stake. The dispute would be like a game of football, and this opinion to the ball that one side, with great bursts of argument, wants to throw into the enemy's entrenchments. However, it is appropriate to imagine that the opposing camp has the same intention. And, in the same way, the debater attacked, insofar as he rejects the belief offered, has a very clear and very positive opinion and which he also wants his adversary to accept: it is that the belief does not suit him, for this reason, and that other.
Thus we would be led to evoke rather the image of a game of graces, with two hoops thrown at the same moment. Nor can it be enough for us: a dispute gives rise to ten, twenty opinions, essential opinions and other secondary ones. Every argument is an opinion: it asserts at the very least that a certain order of facts must be considered, and in a particular way. And if the opposite sometimes seems true to us, it is because our preoccupation with the outcome of the dispute has led us to simplify this dispute to the extreme, to see in it only an opinion from which it is very easy, therefore, to say whether it triumphs, or whether it is defeated. You tell me: A, a royalist, won in his discussion with B, who was a unionist and now claims to be a royalist, just like A. The words here deceive you, and the desire to simplify everything. B first believed in the necessity of unions, and that a revolutionary state, which renounces warlike armaments, can alone ensure peace: he now affirms that a king will know better how to organize unions, having nothing to fear from them, and avoid war, through the fear it will inspire. Thus he does not deny anything of his primary beliefs. However A, who first saw in royalty a restoration of the Catholic religion, and the more intense development of provincial life, now finds this same advantage of triumphant unionism and peace. It is he who allowed himself to be influenced by B, much more than B by him.
But this is only too simple an example: a dispute involves more numerous detailed opinions and it is these opinions that we want to follow through their various stages. You say: “Or you accept. this opinion that I propose to you, or else you reject it. » This is still your bias: you want a quick result, and you want the argument already over. It actually happens that I accept your opinion, not entirely but with some reservations, with this addition, with this restriction which slightly changes its meaning; and, having thus modified it, I propose it to you in my turn. And you will take it again, I am sure, you will remove the addition, or the restriction, and make it more absolute - and this will already be, for this opinion, the third stage.
You say that if you took my opinion as is and immediately returned it to me, you would seem ridiculous. No doubt: so you will only send it back to me after having dressed it in your own way, and so that it is hardly recognizable. Would you say that this is a simple concession on your part, a desire to highlight the few elements of truth that my false theory may contain, and perhaps irony? But it matters little whether or not you believe in the absolute truth of the words you say: perhaps you will have forgotten them in a minute, perhaps you will remember them all your life. From the moment you accepted them, by pronouncing them, they became an element of our dispute, and of the same dignity as any other element.
I will take them up in my turn: and they will thus reach a new stage, and the progress of our discussion will be that I use against you the opinion that you have just expressed and which, later, you will oppose to me again.
Where we criticize, in favor of previous distinctions, a discussion of Uranie with Célimène
gave me| ................................... Célimène: "I am still feeling sick from the heartache that the performance of the School of Women | First phase Célimène - The piece makes you feel sick (Opinion A). |
| Uranie - I went to the room yesterday, I came back healthy and cheerful. | Uranie - The piece makes you healthy and cheerful (Opinion B). |
| .................................... Célimène: Can one, having virtue, find pleasure in a room which dirties the imagination and which is only full of filth and filth? | Second phase Célimène - The piece makes you healthy and cheerful (Op. B) when you have no virtue. |
| Uranie - You need to have light for garbage that others don't have. | Uranie - The piece makes you feel sick (Op. A) only when you have unusual lighting. |
| ................................... Célimène: All this trash is barefaced: the boldest are frightened by their nudity. | Third phase Célimène - The piece gives a heartache (Op. A) even to the most daring. |
| Uranie - For me, I heard nothing wrong with it. | Uranie - The piece makes you healthy and cheerful (Op. B) and one should not hear anything wrong with it. |
| ................................... Célimène: The honesty of a woman.... | Fourth phase Célimène - The play makes healthy and cheerful (Op. B) the woman who has no honesty. |
| Uranie - A woman's honesty is not in grimaces: mysterious severity and affected grimaces irritate censorship and everyone against the actions of her life. The other day there were women at this comedy who, through the expressions they affected, caused people to say a hundred stupid things about their behavior on all sides that would otherwise not have been said. | Uranie - The piece gives a heartache (Op. A) only to women who want to appear severe, and like grimaces. |
| ................................... Célimène: Is modesty not visibly injured by Agnès in the place where we are speaking? | Fifth phase Célimène - The piece makes you feel sick in a specific place. |
| Uranie - She does not say a word that is not in itself very honest. | Uranie - The piece makes you healthy and cheerful (Op. B) in a specific place. |
Molière. Criticism of the School for Women. Sc. III
These passages are placed in a longer discussion, of which they constitute the framework. They can illustrate the preceding remarks: the opinion hostile to the play and the favorable opinion are referred to it, with regularity, from Uranie to Célimène and from Célimène to Uranie.
In the first phase of the argument, this simple statement: the play is pleasant, the play is unpleasant.
In the second phase, the same statement is justified, adapted to a particular case: its appearance is explained by the existence of such a character trait - defect - in the person who uttered it: "If you said that, it is because you are..."
In the third phase the assertion is still justified, but in a different way: its appearance is now explained by the existence of a given quality in the discussant: "If I said that, it is because I am..."
The fourth phase is identical to the second, however presenting the defect in question as very common and already recognized by all.
Finally, in the fifth phase the assertion is explained by the existence of a specific circumstance: “If I said that, it is because…”
All these attempts at explanation, these restrictions which join the first affirmation, the bare affirmation, are the arguments. We would define them: the new aspects that an opposing opinion takes on, when we must accept it in our turn, in this continual exchange of beliefs that is a discussion.
It does not escape us that such a definition remains in some respects incomplete. We can object to him that, very often, the argument is simply the aspect that our own opinion takes, from the first phase of the dispute: there can be no question of exchange here.
No doubt; and yet if we feel the need to first present our opinion in the form of an argument, it is because we know our adversary is disposed to reject it, or at least to place strong restrictions on it. Otherwise, we would present it as a simple fact. Our argument is therefore indeed our first opinion, but accepted, already distorted by our opponent, which we take up and correct again. It must only be said that in this or that specific case, the adversaries knowing themselves, from the start, to be adversaries, the first or second phase of the dispute can be neglected and, in some way, implied.