20 September 2021
A few days ago, I read an opinion piece written by a prominent journalist in Australia, both irked me, but also caused me to reflect on how our debates on issues of public importance seem more fixated on labelling the ‘combatants’ rather than addressing the actual substance of the issue at hand.
The piece itself was about the level of abuse and vitriol directed at journalists – but particularly female journalists working at the Australian Broadcasting Corporation – on Twitter. While it was not its central thread or theme, the part of the piece that caught my attention was an assertion that, on Twitter, the most ferocious stream of abuse came from ‘left-leaning Twitter users’ directed at ABC journalists whose reporting questioned the policies or statements from Labor politicians (but especially the Labor premiers of Victoria, Queensland and Western Australia). Subsequently, I was accused of being part of ‘the left’ simply because I responded with criticism of a post made by a Liberal party MP.
I proved the journalist somewhat correct by posting, rather angrily, not one but two, tweets: the first pointing the lack of any evidence for the statement, and the second pointing out that agreeing with the policies and statements of a given Labor premier and/or criticising a journalist for questioning such policies or statements did not make one ‘left-leaning’. Neither of my tweets were entirely fair: her assertion was probably based on her own experience and her knowledge of that other female journalists at the ABC, and my other observation was tainted by my own sense of outrage at being, by association, accused of being ‘left-leaning’. I have yet to apply the ‘two-hour’ rule to tweeting, as I have learned to do with emails that annoy me: mea culpa.
Nevertheless, I am frustrated by the continued use of glib labelling to describe people, and their views, either generally or regarding a single issue. This is part of a trend of the ‘dumbing-down’ of debates, which become reduced to a contest between ‘tribes’. There is a perceived need to identify the various participants/combatants in that debate by reference to whether they are on a particular team. It is as if we want to be able to identify people by which team jumper (jersey) they are wearing. Just as we know that the team wearing a particular uniform are going to kick the ball on one direction, we are encouraged to think, ‘well he/she will probably agree with us, because he/she is on Team Right (or Left)’.
Terms like ‘left-wing’, ‘right-wing’, or the range of other related descriptors, are subjective, and, if anything, reveal the biases and predilections of the person using them. More often, they serve as a kind of screen, discouraging others from examining the true nature of a person, and/or his or her ideas. Worse still, the use of such labels inevitably provokes a preliminary debate as to whether given participants should even wear the label designated to them. The result is, to continue the metaphor used previously, that, before the game begins, there is dispute as to whether a given player should be on the team whose jumper he or she wears, or, midway through the game, that player determines that he or she should not be a member of either team, and just walks off. Substantive debate on an issue is largely derailed, as the participants instead debate on whether their opponents’ classification of their view is accurate. That sort of stuff might be great on university campuses, where the actual debate seems more important that the issue being debated, but if you have some expectation that there will be some examination of an issue and/or (gosh!) a possible meeting of minds, then you’re likely be disappointed.
As well as the ‘which-team-do-you-support?’ paradigm that is applied to many debates, labelling is now very commonly used as a means or tactic of stifling debate on those issues. Rather than debate the actual substance of what a person is saying, participants instead launch comments like ‘that’s right wing’, or ‘that’s socialist/racist/sexist’. This is approach is not merely name-calling; it is a means of seeking to defuse the person’s argument through belittling and guilt by association, because the person expressing a particular view may either not want to be seen as right-wing/socialist, etc., or carry the pejorative and undesirable baggage that goes with such descriptions.
It may well be that an individual’s argument is extreme, offensive, or some of ‘ist’, but why not show that through debate and scrutiny of the substance of the argument, rather than tossing some emotional candy bomb of a label?
Putting aside the idealogues, fanatics and the brainwashed, if it is accepted that each human being is unique, then it must be accepted that each of us can (and do) have differing or unique views on a given topic or issue (or have no view). Further, it is likely that a person’s view on one issue affects his or her views on other related issues. That is not just because of the ‘rational’ part of our brains, but also because of the ‘emotional’ part: an individual’s emotional response to a given issue is likely to affect how that individual responds to that issue going forward. Therefore, given that human beings must address an almost infinite range of topics and issues, it stands to reason that there must be an infinite set of combined views and impressions of topics and issues throughout the community. Even if it is accepted that that many of that individual’s view or beliefs may coalesce around a particular location on the political spectrum, to label that individual as a member of ‘team #’ or is guilty of an ‘ism’ is unfair, lazy and, frankly, insulting.
To reduce any of us to labels like ‘right’, ‘left’, ‘conservative’, ‘progressive’, or ‘#-leaning’ as part of a debate demeans us all (including the person doing the labelling). If you don’t agree with my views, don’t label me, engage with me, and argue your case. You might be surprised what you achieve.
