In the history of church formal debates have played a role in helping the church sort out truth from falsehood. One of the most famous written debates was between Martin Luther and Erasmus of Rotterdam on the nature of the will. Is it free or bound by sin? Luther wrote one of the all-time theological classics, Bondage of the Will. I myself have participated in a formal debate over different views on the millennium. Over the years, however, I have begun to doubt the benefits of formal public debates. I also believe that the so-called debates that take place on blogs and social media are detrimental to the life of the church. Why have I come to these conclusions?
The more I have reflected upon the nature of debates, I have observed that the debate venue significant shapes the nature and content of a debate. In terms of Marshall McLuhan’s famous work, Understanding Media, the medium shapes the message. In other words, the content of discourse changes from one venue to the next. When an author writes a book, he might take several hundred pages packed with footnotes to make an argument to prove his thesis. In a debate, he must take that same data and condense it to a presentation of, say, sixty minutes. What he argued in 50,000 words gets condensed to 10,000 words. Moreover, given the nature of the audience, he undoubtedly trims out some of his finer points. Let’s say for the sake of argument that the author has written an absolute airtight case and sufficiently proves his point. But this same author is not the best public speaker, makes a few verbal gaffes, and gets very nervous. The audience sees all of this and wrongly concludes that the author’s case must be weak given his presentation. Moreover, when his debate opponent subjects him to cross-examination, his same lack of eloquence undermines his presentation. The audience walks away thinking that the author must be wrong. When you shift the medium, from the written to the spoken word, the content changes.
The famous presidential debate between John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon is a classic example. People who read the debate and heard it on the radio thought that Nixon won the debate. People who watched the debate on TV, on the other hand, thought that Kennedy won. Television added other dimensions to the spoken word—sight. Nixon refused to wear make-up, so he looked pale on camera. He also started to sweat under the lights, so people thought he looked ill given his pale complexion and sweat. Meanwhile, Kennedy wore make-up, didn’t sweat, and gave a confident impression to the audience. People decided the debate based upon looks and perception rather than substance.
All of this is to say, I seriously question the usefulness of public debates. I would much rather pick up a book and read a reasoned, researched, and well-written case for a proposition rather than watch a debate. This is especially so on social media. Read the comments section on your typical blog and the debate usually spirals out of control within a matter of a few keystrokes. These so-called debates then overflow into the church pews where people take the digital vitriol and disseminate to others. As my colleague Kevin DeYoung says, the internet is a great microphone but it’s not a good telephone. It’s great to tell people things but has many shortcomings for dialogue or in this case, debate.
It may sound like I’m technologically Amish—plodding down the street riding my horse-drawn carriage as the public and digital debaters whiz on by in their chrome wheeled, fuel injected, speed machines. I’m ok with that. In the end, I want to make a fair evaluation of an argument, see documented evidence, and then decide. I don’t want to decide significant theological issues based upon how well someone presents their case, the tone of their voice, the color of their tie, or their ability to disembowel an argument with a slash from their sarcastic wit. There may be a place for carefully executed public debates, but for me, I’d rather invest my time and resources in reading written debates in books. Give me Luther’s Bondage of the Will seven days a week and twice on Sundays over public debates.