The hierarchy of disagreement

It is now exactly 13 years since the UK/US writer, Dr Paul Graham, came up with his visionary “hierarchy of disagreement.”

At the apex of Graham’s hierarchical pyramid is refutation. At the murky bottom, you find ad hominem attack and name-calling.

It is not unique to social media, but if you scan the main platforms many of us now spend hours upon hours engaging daily, you will catch the general drift of Graham’s assertions.

Witness a hypothetical structure with refutation at the top, followed by counterargument, contradiction, responses to “tone”, ad hominem attack and, at the very base, name-calling, insult, and innuendo. Many times, though, the pyramid is inverted.

We see it over and over. Someone posts something she considers to be a reasonable observation on a matter of public interest and there is speedy reference to an unflattering physical or emotional attribute.

Sometimes lies, ridicule, and defamation emerge out of the blue almost as a pre-emptive assault. Journalists and others in the public eye experience this all the time. I have heard, for example, that I am “a CIA.” This, I suppose, disentitles me to say or write anything credible about China, Venezuela, Russia, the OAS, Caricom or hotdogs.

Sadly, our political parties do not routinely set the best example. Loyal trolls, without caution of any kind from leaders, help by amplifying race-baiting, childish name-calling and outright disinformation introduced via dispatches often bearing official seals.

On Saturday, for example, T&T Guardian’s Gail Alexander provided a glossary of terms from the contemporary UNC information engine room: “deadbeats”, “muppets”, “shameless”, “conman”, “dithering nincompoop”, “comatose”, “flaccid” (!), “rogue” and “lame”.

Only the day before, the PNM Women’s League described its UNC counterpart outfit as “a house of ill-repute.”

But, back to Graham and others who have explored his thesis. It is par for the course that people appear far more motivated to engage an assertion when they disagree with it.

People like me, who tightly control our friends’ lists on Facebook but leave ourselves out in the open on Instagram or Twitter, can tell the difference.

For example, you more frequently see “likes” and favourable comments among members of your self-constructed echo chambers than you would with accounts that operate out in the wild.

Additionally, people you attract as online “followers” or “friends” are highly likely to share the same values as you. For instance, I do not regularly have to respond to people who are openly opposed to gender equality, reproductive rights, or freedom of expression and the press. But I know other types are out there in large numbers and very actively engaged in undermining these positions.

There are also, of course, taboo areas sensible people generally avoid because they tend to tacitly invite irrational discourse. These may include issues associated with organised religion, political ideology, and race relations.

On these and other issues, as suggested by Graham, your “tone” rather than the arguments themselves can become the focus of concern. “I can’t believe you are so dismissive and condescending when it comes to the anti-vaxxers.”

“A man/woman like you …” is not an infrequent form of tone-based counterargument and constitutes a variant of what is often referred to in the behavioural sciences as “passive aggression.”

It is preferable if an error or display of illogic is addressed in an informed and direct manner rather than through innuendo or insult. “He is a PNM” or “He is a UNC.”

This is not to say you cannot, with some experience and street smarts, spot a political hack from a mile cloaked in passive aggression. My preference is to avoid them at all costs, including the penalties your ego pays.

Striking back cleverly through parody or satire or even “throwing words” is well within bounds. But they frequently miss the mark. Leave them alone. Or write an entire newspaper column as a technical diss.

Parliament and the hustings also provide no best practice examples. There you find the inverted pyramid exemplified. But while politics is no tea party it is also not a “zess” where the one who wines down lowest prevails.