Civic discourse is worth the risks

As a former professor of rhetoric, I spent a great deal of time in the last years of my career writing op-eds rather than merely publishing scholarly articles. Many colleagues and members of the community often asked me why I did this.

In retrospect, the answer is obvious.

For 42 years I taught a college-level course in “Argumentation” — a course premised on the notion that a free exchange in the marketplace of ideas is a worthy and necessary pursuit. I reminded students that writing op-eds is an essential part of civic life, especially at this challenging moment in America’s political history.

As citizens, our responsibility is to stand up and speak truth to power. What matters is not one’s particular political views but willingness to engage others. Without engagement there is no possibility for persuasion and change — and hence little chance that democracy will survive.

As a scholar I felt a special duty to use my expertise to educate the public, helping readers wrestle with controversial issues. Too often academics are accused of being sequestered in the ivory tower, producing research read by a handful of people. That need not and should not be the case.

Admittedly, entering the public sphere is risky: Universities don’t consider public writing in annual evaluation and promotion decisions, Moreover, I receive hate mail responding to my op-eds. Happily, I often receive letters like this one:

“Your perceptive, well-written op-ed today contains more insight into basic human nature than is usually found in a few short paragraphs. Thanks for writing it. Sincerely, Another fellow citizen who occasionally struggles.”

This letter reminds me why I should continue to publicly express my views. If all of us do this, our jeopardized democracy will survive and thrive. The key, however, is being respectful, avoiding name calling and ad hominem arguments — something that too often dominates civic discourse.

The most important concept I taught students in my Argumentation class is “self-risk.” This goes beyond the obvious public risks one assumes when speaking in public (i.e., the attributions others make of the arguer). Self-risk is the implicit acknowledgment made when arguing that we might be wrong — that our beliefs might be changed as a result of argument. Self-risk involves the openness to persuasion and thus the opposite of dogma.

As students came to realize, self-risk is not an idealistic prescription preached by their professor. It is something all of us at various times choose to embrace (whether we admit it), especially when the subject of argument is important.

When one — including me — writes op-eds, we take on both public risk and self-risk. I believe that the inherent public risks are more than outweighed by conviction for the views we express.

Self-risk has many rewards. By writing op-eds, my own beliefs and those of others have changed. An example of this is a claim I made a few years ago approving of the New York Times anonymous op-ed author to avoid going public. As a result of responses to my argument, I was persuaded to believe that remaining anonymous is not in the best interest of our government and provides grist for those who attempt to discredit the media with claims of fake news.

My hope is that more citizens and scholars will enter the public sphere. Our democracy depends on this, as does our ability to grow and mature as humans.

Richard Cherwitz is a professor emeritus in the Moody College of Communication at the University of Texas at Austin.