Argumentum ad hominem

People who have remained silent throughout much of the exchange will at the end suddenly manifest with a comment such as “I knew you’d give up, you haven’t got the solution, you’re just a pontificator,” or something similar. Thus revealing that they’ve been following the argument for several tortuous days as mere spectators who emerge only to joyfully plunge their spear into your carotid artery, after their cohorts have done all the hard yacka required to bring you down for the kill.

In other words, there are situations that arise in forums and comments from which there is absolutely no way an author can safely extricate her or himself.

One of the undesirable effects of this dominant cultural paradigm is that it does silence some people who have very good opinions and ideas, but do not have the taste for the blood sport they’ll have to engage in, in order to put them forward. This is wrong. An author should not be required to “deal” with insult and abuse in order to be considered a good and interesting author, and to have a voice. Intimidating people so they are reluctant to publish is bullying. It’s a form of censorship. It’s a way of trying to create a climate in which only those you agree with have a voice. There’s nothing clever, morally sound, or accomplished about it, particularly when it’s done behind the cowardly cloak of anonymity.

Judging a writer by his or her ability to handle to ad hominem arguments is also ludicrous. The motives of anyone who makes such a judgment should be regarded with the greatest suspicion.

The French cultural theorist Roland Barthes wrote a great deal about the relationship between text and reader. A text cannot come alive, he thought, without its reader. Every time a new reader engages with a text, that reader has the power to transform the text into something entirely fresh, as he or she brings to the work their own set of uniquely formed perceptions.

The reader and the text are a couple: one is no good without the other. The responsibility is mutual. Only infants can refuse to accept an equal part in the relationship.

The best an author can hope for is a good reader of the text she or he produces. By “good” I don’t mean someone who agrees with everything that’s said. I mean someone capable of thoughtful criticism, argument, deconstruction, engagement and commentary. But not abuse. Not ad hominem arguments. Not insult.

As my grandmother used to say, if you can’t say anything sensible don’t say anything at all. That’s quite a good piece of advice when it comes to critiquing texts, and my grandmother had no formal education at all.

The other option open to the author is to not engage with reader responses. Readers seem to like it when authors engage, and as an author, I don’t like publishing an opinion and then maintaining silence when it’s discussed, especially if remarks are specifically addressed to me. However, many authors don’t engage, and I don’t blame them one bit. Who needs ad hominem twaddle? Why is our ability or otherwise to deal with this offensive ignorance supposed to be a measure of our worth as opinion writers, and a measure of our moral characters and stamina as well?

For me, it works both ways. Reader responses to my articles are a measure of their worth as partners with me in the text, and often of their moral character, even if they didn’t intend to let that show.

I’m with Roland Barthes - the text is a two way street.

Of course, the way to avoid physical put downs like blonde jokes is not to publish your photograph. Which I don’t, except for a couple of places where they insist, and one where I’m almost entirely covered because I’m deep in snow. But now I’ve outed myself here all I have to say is, bring it on. See if I care.

Because I’ve got a moderator who’ll delete argumentum ad hominem.

The last word:

He [man] {sic} has invented a complete catalogue of vile and scabrous epithets which he is ever ready to sling at those who think and act differently…

- Henry Miller, "When I Reach for My Revolver”