My Debate Philosophy

Instead of reviewing Africa's Art of Argumentation and Debate, an old book that did not teach anything new, let me post excerpts of an email I wrote to the my college debate society.

People could not be further from the truth when they accuse
me of not caring enough. My debate philosophy is not an
argument for irresponsibility or a carefree hakunah matatah
attitude. It might be surprising to some, but I
passionately care about debate. I consider debate a craft,
an art form. I am in genuine awe of the raw and spontaneous
intellectual clash, of the eloquent power of the spoken
word. I consider myself the unworthy but aspiring
descendant of the likes of Socrates, Lincoln and Churchill.
Debate is so much bigger than an individual debater, the
organization or the debate community. In debate, I hear the
echo of conflicting ideas ringing through the ages. I
debate because I consider it my art, my creative outlet. I
am not a writer, a musician, nor a painter, but I am a
proud debater.

It is true that some people perceive me as carefree because
I debate the least before tryouts; I do not bring matter at
all during tournaments; I do not react strongly to either
victory or defeat. But I will throw modesty out of the
window for it is nothing but the refuge of the fool. I top
the tryouts, I win championships and I get best speaker
citations. I have achieved as much or even more than those
who accuse my team of not caring about winning.

I do care about winning. It feels good to win. I care about
winning but it is always tempered by the realization that
winning is not everything. I will always do my best in a
debate. For seven minutes, I will exhaust all my
argumentative skills, all stored up knowledge, and all
flair and humor to deliver the best speech I can. But after
the debate, I will forget about it. I will forge
friendships with my opponents who, I never forget, are
thinking and feeling humans too. I will look at the sunset,
I will take a dip in the pool, I will have a drink or two.
I will watch the fireworks instead of ruminate on a bad
speech. I will listen to the crashing waves instead of
planning how to get back at a stupid adjudicator.

I address this especially to the new members because they
say that you can’t teach old dogs new tricks. What is the
use of measuring your life on the basis of debate
achievements as some of the old people do? What is the use
of attaching so much importance to the subjective decisions
of fallible adjudicators who will always have biases and
prejudices despite their best efforts at objectivity?

The desire to win must always be tempered by the
realization that a decision is nothing but a consensus by
flawed humans that a team was the one that adhered the most
to the dominant but fleeting and changing standards of what
it means to be a good debater. That is putting it at its
best. At worst, a decision can be reduced to a question of
who offended the adjudicators’ sense of taste the least.
This is why I do not despair when I lose, because I know
that I am still smarter than someone who adheres to
the dominant paradigm better. This is why I do not praise
the high heavens when I win, because it says less about my
worth as a debater than it does about my ability to please
the adjudicators.

Some assume that there is one true road to debate success, as though the
only way to win is to debate in a particular way, to keep
on repeating the same thing over and over again, and to
have the decorum of one attending a funeral. I am not
against hard work. I respect people who achieve things
because of hard work. But that is no reason to discount
people who achieve things out of brilliance and know how to
have fun at the same time. Dogma is anathema to debate and it is
dogmatic to pontificate about the one true road to debate
glory.

Training is indispensable to the new debater who has to get
used to doing something he does not normally do. But
mindless and repetitive debating leads to diminishing
returns. It may even lead to calcified patterns of thought
and formulaic speaking styles. Assuming basic competence,
the key is no longer how many times you debate, but how
hard you think about how you debate. Based on my
experience, there is no direct relation between the number
of times you debate and your chances of winning a
tournament. Hearing trite adjudication (lacks
substantiation, lacks dynamism, weak responsiveness) helped
me less than reading and analyzing the thought of
provocative philosophers.

We always say that we want to have class. Acting like sore
losers out to avenge the past several years’ losses will
not breed class. Wanting that piece of shiny metal so badly
that we start debating like noisy fish vendors will not
breed class. Thinking that winning is everything will not
breed class. Behaving according to some presumptuous
standard of behavior will not breed class. One has class
not because of how one acts but by how one is treated. To
have class is to be treated with respect because of the
apparent lack of effort, the perception that there is
nothing more natural in the world than to debate. We will
never have class if we are too uptight and serious; if we
don’t have a sense of humor; if treat winning as all there
is to life. I sincerely believe that if we debated because
we genuinely enjoyed doing it, then we will have class and
start winning those trophies.

I have talked about how I view debate at length because I
disagree that the way to keep the new members debating is
by filling them with angst or issues. Younger debaters do
not need to be told they ought to be ashamed of their
performance after they lose. They already feel shame. They
do not need put-downs masquerading as pep talks. They need
to be inspired. They need to realize a new debate is a new
battle even as lessons ought to be learned from a prior
defeat. They need to be shown that they can enjoy debate.
The seven-minute rush can come from the fear of not
winning; but it can also come from the sheer pleasure of
arguing.

They cannot stop us from debating for we debate
out of passion. We shall debate with our future students,
with the taxi driver, with our friends or against each
other. Debate is our life, not in the petty sense of not
being able to let go of a lost championship, but in the
grand sense of devoting oneself to the life of the mind.
The same can be said of the true writer who writes because
it is his passion. It runs through his veins and suffuses
his spirit. To stop writing is to stop living. A writer
writes not because he wants the Nobel Prize, but because he
cannot do otherwise. A writer is not any less of a writer
if he fails to win the nod of the establishment critics. In
fact, I would dare say that a writer ceases to be a writer
if writes to get accolades. For then, he ceases to be an
artist and becomes no different from the beauty pageant or
pera o bayong contestant.

I will always think that debating is its own reward. I will
always think that debating is fun. I will always think of
myself as a debater, first and foremost, and only secondly
as a champion.

Public Lives

Public Lives is a collection of the columns of Randy David, eminent opinion writer and sociologist. Compared to Reflections, this work is less ideological and political, and more philosophical and reflexive. The style is more taut and powerful, perhaps due to the need to deliver a persuasive message within the space constraints of a column. There is greater comfort with ambiguity and alternative modes of perception and explanation. Also, there is more focus on understanding the self as a way to interpret the external world.

I see Randy as the most important analyst of Philippine politics and society today and the country's foremost public intellectual. I sometimes envy the unhurried, reflective life of the academic he leads, but I am afraid I have already made a choice to take a different path. He remains hopeful that my generation can bring Philippine society into modernity, and I hope I can help take the lead in making that a reality.

Christmas Mystery

I have read, heard, and seen many accounts of the journey of Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem as a Catholic schoolboy. It had always been magical and exciting despite countless repetition. Then, as I grew up, Christmas started to lose its magic, and became nothing but another stressful occasion to spend on gifts, eat unhealthy food, and suffer traffic jams.

As the father of two little baby boys, however, I am rediscovering the feeling of hope, generosity, and anticipation that comes with the Christmas season for they will soon hear the Christmas story for the first time. Like Joachim in the Jostein Gaardner's Christmas Mystery, they too will begin counting the number of days before Christmas finally arrives. And like Elizabeth, I hope they gain an appreciation of the many meanings of this occasion.

True, for the Christian, it is, above all, about the birth of the savior. But it is also about hope for a better tomorrow, forgiveness of sins and starting anew, generosity of spirit through sharing and gift-giving, and appreciating the value of family and friendship. I hope everyone had a happy Christmas, and I wish for a great new year.

Summer and My Childhood

Unlike Europeans, my family never spent long vacations out of town or abroad during the summer. With so much sun throughout the year, perhaps there was no need to savor every sunny day. The only vacation I remember was when we went to Baguio when I was around five years old. After that, all my summers were spent at home. I remember playing hide and seek, catching dragonflies, and riding the swing at the playground right in front of our house. I recall climbing alatiris trees, taking long bicycle rides far from our subdivision, and serving as a sacristan during Holy Week.

I never had the summers by the lake in David Macfarlane's Summer Gone, but I hope to make week-long summer vacations a tradition in my own family. We don't have too many lakes, but we have some of the best beaches in the world. I would like my two boys to grow up with fond memories of perfect summer days evoked in the book and none of the dysfunctions of Caz's family. I want them to remember being pushed by the waves, building sand castles, being burned by the sun, eating grilled seafood, and wanting summer days never to end.

Liberal Party

Mar Roxas, current Liberal Party president, was in the headlines two weeks ago for swearing at President Arroyo during a rally to protest plans to change the constitution. About the same time, I was reading an edited collection of articles by members of the Liberal Party, Liberal Views on Constitutional Reform by Antonio Nachura and Jonathan Malaya, advocating strongly for a shift to a federal, parliamentary form of government. Florencio Abad actually makes a strong case for a parliamentary form of government based on evidence provided by political science research.

I can understand the change of heart since charter change now will obviously benefit the current administration, and stifle LP's chances of recapturing the presidency after forty years. I am even considering joining the party as it appears to be the only mainstream party whose members exhibit integrity and competence while having a decent chance of winning. I am beginning to doubt, however, whether Roxas can actually win as most surveys indicate that the early leaders are Legarda, De Castro, and Villar.

Ultimately, I think, a genuine, programmatic political party with a winning coalition of supporters has to arise in order for the polity to transcend the continuing hold of the landowning oligarchy. It remains to be seen whether Roxas can transform the LP into that party or it will take someone from my generation to overcome cynicism over politics and organize such a party.

Don Juan and Yaqui Way of Knowledge

I read this book by Carlos Castaneda simply because it was on our shelf. I hesitated to read it as my science high school training means I remain skeptical of non-rational modes of explanation. Also, it was all too easy to dismiss it as a 60's junkie's way of philosophizing and rationalizing his aimless, and hedonistic quest for the next high.

Surprisingly, however, it was actually a fascinating read. Carlos' drug induced hallucinations are utterly fascinating, and, on occasion, terrifying. Perhaps, they are a powerful illustration of the alternative modes of understanding of the Yaqui culture, one that is extremely difficult for a rationalist to comprehend. Or, they are nothing but the contortions of the mind brought about by chemicals in the "allies."

An even more interesting dimension to this text is the claim that Castaneda's work was not a credible anthropology thesis, but, rather, a work of creative writing. Regardless, its invitation to suspend disbelief and challenge conventional apprehension of reality makes it a worthy read.

TS Eliot Selected Prose and Understanding Poetry

Time Magazine called Eliot the greatest English language poet of the 20th century. I have read Alfred Prufrock, but not The Waste Land - his masterpiece. In this collection of prose, however, the greatest value I derive is the confirmation that a poem has many more meanings than can be interpreted rationally. A poem is a poem precisely because the whole is more than the sum of the denotations of words strung together to fit a conventional form. Form is employed to establish order and reproduce on paper a series of moods, emotions, and evocations. Inevitably, when the rational mind is used to understand the representation of emotional expression, it finds itself uncertain and tentative. There is a sense that not all has been understood when reading poetry. There is an even greater sense of inadequacy when the attempt is made to communicate what was supposed to be understood. Reading Eliot as the literary critic, however, gives comfort that the reader can understand a poem at a deep, emotional level, yet find it difficult to articulate what has been understood.