Style or Substance?

The first Ivy League university debate I ever saw boggled my mind. The participants spoke really fast, dashing through so many details, I couldn’t imagine how anyone could follow the conversation much less take notes and reply. The occasion reminded me of a race from nowhere to nowhere with nothing but a trophy as reward. I didn’t envy them.

As part of my generalized bachelor’s degree in communication, after little preparation, I was required to compete in a collegiate cross examination debate tournament. I had no illusions that I was an adequate university debater and neither did my assigned partner who was a theatre major. We didn’t even have a solid grasp of the topic and had to carry cheat sheets of what each speech was supposed to accomplish. We were terrified. Luckily for us, the regular debaters from our school took pity on us, shared a few of their lesser evidence cards, and briefed us on things we could say. We felt outrageously vulnerable, but we had acting training, so we played the part of arrogant, competent debaters. We rightfully lost our first two matches. To the fury of the third opposing team, my partner and I polished our performances so that by the end of the day we were awarded a win by our final judge who apparently wasn’t listening well. We didn’t deserve the victory and we knew it, but we had escaped the utter humiliation of being totally winless. We had learned style.

Years later when I was a competitive speech coach, I not only prepared high school debaters (they did really well at the national level!) but also frequently judged speech tournaments. In lesser tournaments my students were sophisticated enough to know when they drew an incompetent judge who didn’t follow the arguments, didn’t properly assess the evidence, and was distracted by personality issues. Sometimes their judge—who might have simply driven the bus or been a handy parent—had no debate acumen at all. After their many hours of preparation, the students felt cheated. The most attractive speaker isn’t necessarily the best debater or potential leader.

Because most Americans aren’t versed in the demands of good argument or the psychological traps of propaganda, many react to how the speakers make them feel. They want style, whether the occasion is a debate or public appearance. They’re bored by substance in the form of factual information. They don’t educate themselves before or after the appearance. They’re perfect foils for half-truths and outright lies delivered well. They may stop listening to most of the words spoken in order to cheer for personality, instead.

Unfortunately, when the prize on the line is something like the presidency of the United States, the voters need to know what they’re getting in the package they choose. Often, many can’t project what’s to come and stop caring. They’re content to accept without question scapegoats offered in place of solutions—regardless of how bizarre the accusations become—to keep their chosen idols unsullied. To avoid feeling inadequate, they select news sources they like—people such as TV personalities, clergy, even community members sometimes called opinion leaders with or without any qualifications to perform assessments—and swallow whatever opinions are being presented. They make easy marks for cons and continue a long tradition of citizens being used by the power brokers. No candidate is entirely without flaws, but an honest comparison of the options and deciding which may offer the most beneficial future for individuals and the country requires effort few want to make.