A deck of cards.

A deck of cards. I was rummaging around my office the other day when I stumbled upona deck of cards. It's a deck I try to keep hidden. In the past, Ihave tried to throw it away or destroy it; but it keeps reappearing. Iuse it to stifle debate. We all have such a deck. Whenever conversationturns to a topic or issue we don't want to discuss or we don'ttruly have an answer for, we can pull out one of these trump cards,throw it on the table, and cut off the discussion. The technique worksexceptionally well. Let us begin with the "gun nut" card. On severaloccasions I have been engaged in a discussion of the Second Amendment asregards gun laws in this country. When you point out to people that lawsrestricting guns or their use really don't work, or that they havelittle relationship to violence, they grab the card, yell"you're just a gun nut," and throw it on the table. Thatinvariably ends the conversation, despite my pleadings that I don'teven own a gun and have no interest in owning one. The problem here isfairly obvious. Many of us have very little interest in truly discussingthose things with which we disagree vehemently. Seriously listening tosomeone is very dangerous--if we truly listen, we risk having to changeor experiencing a high level of cognitive dissonance. We believe that weare the center of the universe and that what we believe is always true.Changing the mind of a well-educated person is incredibly difficult.There is actually a name for it: the Planck Problem. It is sometimesreferred to as Ideological Immunity. Physicist Max Planck believed thatvery intelligent people seldom change their minds. They find itdifficult to admit they were wrong in the first place. Therefore, whenchallenged, they are apt to throw a card, such as "gun nut,"on the table. It is a lot easier than being forced to reevaluate along-held position. Going a step further, Jacques Ellul believed thatthe educated are the most susceptible to propaganda because they believein a world of symbols and ideas--which they hold onto tenaciously onceacquired. In the academic world, as elsewhere, the cards may be used incombination with one another. This may heighten their effectiveness. Asan example, three individual cards--"diversity,""strategic plan," and "mission statement"--can bepart of a very powerful hand. Assume that your university decides toconduct a diversity survey. The survey asks: Do you have diversitythroughout your curriculum? Do you display diversity in the classroom?You decide you need a definition of diversity before you can answer.Does diversity refer to ideas, race, ethnicity, religion, economiclevel, lifestyle, or some combination of all these? Looking for answers,you pose this question to those who initiated the survey. If you arelucky, your question will be ignored. If you are unlucky, the responsewill question your commitment to diversity without ever defining it foryou. The card is merely thrown on the table. If you are very unlucky,the response will include the mission statement card telling you thatdiversity is a part of the university's mission and one of thestrategic plan's stated goals. It is as if someone has told youthis is all "settled science." And if you are not careful,they will throw the race card at you. You try to take thenonconfrontational way and answer the survey as best you can, while atthe same time realizing that your question was never answered becausehaving that debate was not in someone's interest. It is not just the stifling of debate that occurs. When using thesecards, The Law of Unintended Consequences also plays a role. The tragedyis all those paths not taken. It is all the things not written becauseof a fear of reprisal. When a card stops debate, we allow others tocontrol our world. Martin Niemoller wrote these oft-quoted lines in1945: First they came for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak up, because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time there was no one left to speak up for me. If people had not allowed the "Jewish" or"traitor" cards to stifle debate in Germany, how differentmight our world be today? In such a context, the situation becomes realand not just hypothetical. In defense of using the cards, people will tell me that they justdon't wish to give any legitimacy to particular arguments. Throwingthe racist card at a member of the Aryan Nation is necessary, theyargue, because to engage him/ her in a discussion is to give his/herpoint of view an airing that it does not deserve. While I can certainlysympathize with those who don't want to be in the same county--letalone have a discussion--with members of the Aryan Nation, I believethere is a difference between shutting off debate entirely by playing acard and actively challenging their position rhetorically. In addition,sometimes engaging such people in conversation helps other listeners.(It helps the Aryan, too, who now may be wooed back into the fold ofreason.) It will also show a lack of fear on your part. As ElizabethCady Stanton said: The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow into our souls. Another possibility is that, by seriously talking to them, you paythem the respect due to other humans; and then, instead of retreating totheir fortress, they might come out and look around. It is through communication that we develop our culture. It is theway we conclude what is "normal" and what is not. We are mostapt to use a card when the discussion turns to something we consider notto be normal and the subject is, therefore, beyond any need of debate.It is not "normal" to want to carry a concealed weapon. It isnot "normal" to blow yourself up and kill others. This is whenwe are most likely to throw down the "gun nut" or"terrorist" card, walk away, and end any possible discussion.This turns the playing field over to our adversaries. However, to throwthe card and stand there and claim victory is every bit asshort-sighted, and will result in no change at all. Engagement is not an easy process. It requires people to know whythey believe what they believe. It is to question one's ownlong-held, personal beliefs. Perhaps we should admit that in some caseswe use the cards because we haven't thought through these issuesourselves. One of the great aims of higher education is the creation ofrational-thinking human beings. I remember my own undergraduateprofessors telling me their main goal was to teach me to think. We wantour students to learn to make decisions based on the quality of theinformation before them, not based on their own ego or ethnocentricviews. Frankly, as educators, we may often be poor examples of thisquest. How many times have we thrown cards on the table rather thanengage creationists, global warming skeptics, pro-choice advocates,pro-life advocates, conservatives, liberals, or communists? The list canbecome quite lengthy. One's personal deck of cards is the result of a lifetime ofpersistent accumulation. In my case, I have spent sixty years developingthe deck. I do not proclaim this proudly; it is merely a statement offact. In recent months, I have asked myself how many times have I throwna card down in the classroom and proclaimed the discussion over. Howmany times have I not engaged someone in honest dialogue because I wasafraid to? The cards are easy to use; the brain is much more difficultto get working. So where does one begin? The first step is to acknowledge that theworst card in the deck is the "not me" card. Denial is not anaction that will move us forward. The second step is to spread all thecards out in front of you and invite a colleague into your office.Discuss them. Ask your colleague if you have ever used these cards onthem. Actively confront your own demons. As I have said repeatedly,these are not easy steps--especially for college professors (see thePlanck Problem, above). However, in the pluralistic society that ourstudents represent, they are necessary ones. I have one final comment. I keep a second deck at home. Dr. David E. Tucker is Associate Professor of Communication at theUniversity of Toledo. He received his Ph.D. from Bowling Green StateUniversity in 1977. His interests include information literacy,communication theory, and broadcast history.