The Great Debate

November 18, 2009

I have only just returned from an incredibly inspiring two-day seminar on school debating held just outside of Cologne (a city infamous for having created one of the - to my mind - most unpleasant fragrances of all time, 4711  http://www.4711.com ).

A teacher in training had approached me about doing the workshop, and as a newly-appointed teacher in the social sciences myself, I could immediately see a number of advantages to incorporating the practice of formal debate in the classroom, so I agreed enthusiastically. (The other reason I agreed with such alacrity was that I would get to miss school on a Friday, a day when I teach eight hours back to back, so what could be bad?)

Plus, to clinch the argument, given the Cologne location, I would be able to spend the night at my friend Martina’s. Not only do I adore her and her magnificently stocked wine cellar, but she happens to live in a picturesque half-timbered house constructed in 1696 with ceilings so low that they make me feel tall. (I should add that I am all of five foot two and a half — don’t forget the half!).

We started the session simply, by tossing a ball around in a circle. This became a metaphor for the idea of debating: one has to stay on the ball, or on topic; one has to be quick, and dexterous; one has to pay close attention, and also anticipate where the ball might be thrown; eye contact and non-verbal communication are quite important as well.

To generate ideas about possible topics, we started by listing mundane, everyday things that made us angry, from long supermarket lines to the tax advantages enjoyed by couples as compared to singles. The idea was to formulate every gripe we had (or proposition) as a ‘should’ question that could be answered by a simple yes or no: “Should supermarkets be obliged to open a new register when there are more than six people on line?” “Should tax incentives for married couples be removed so that singles and couples are taxed at the same rate?”

To spice things up, we then tried a sample debate, improvised with no real preparation: should closed circuit cameras be installed in more public places in order to avoid property damage?

One side asserted that the state has a right, even an obligation, to protect the personal property of its citizens and that the cameras were a legitimate means to achieve this end. Moreover, no innocent man would have anything to fear from the watchful eye of the camera.

Ever the civil libertarian, I argued that this was a slippery slope, as property can be replaced, whereas our right to privacy cannot. And here is the fascinating thing: although I loved constitutional law in high school, had discussed this very same topic with grades 9 and 11 only a few weeks before, and am generally accustomed to blathering fluidly in front of a captive audience of students, my hands were sweaty with anxiety as I formulated my thoughts before a small crowd of seven fellow teachers.

But leaving my own unexpected stage fright out of the equation, I thought some issues raised were quite revealing of German society in general, for example: should stores be open on Sundays?

Yes, your eyes have not deceived you: you cannot go shopping on Sundays in Germany. The occasional gas station or convenience store is open, and bakeries are open for a few hours in the morning, but H&M, Marks and Sparks, and other major temples of Western capitalism are closed to worshipers on Sunday. The reason given is the survival of the family, that bulwark of society. For if parents work, and children go to school, so popular logic would have it, at least one day ought to be set aside for togetherness. (We did not debate this one, otherwise I would have been interested to hear about provisions made for bus and train conductors, hospital and restaurant employees and others who have no choice but to report for duty on Sundays.)
The last debate of the workshop dealt with assisted suicide. This time your favorite civil libertarian tried (with some difficulty) to make the case against allowing the individual to assert his or her right to self-determination. We adhered to a strict time limit and abided by a highly formal structure, often having to abandon the carefully crafted arguments we had planned in favor of responding off the cuff to a pertinent point raised by our opponent.

The seminar was fascinating on many levels: I observed myself and others, gave and received feedback on my own performance as well as that of my fellow teachers. We traded opinions on highly divisive issues in a formal, ritualistic way, yet got to know complete strangers in a manner more intimate than if we had seen them unclothed. It was an experience that can be summed up as challenging, exhausting and uplifting all at the same time.
(Sadly, the site describing this very worthwhile project is only available in German, but I will include it all the same: http://www.jugend-debattiert.de/index.php?id=nat_deutschland )

About the Author : Tamara-Diana Braunstein brings us her stories from Senegal every week. She was born in Brooklyn, New York. She is a restless wanderer who earned an MA from the University of Freiburg and has worked in a youth hostel in the French Alps, a law firm in Montreal, the Metropolitan Museum of Art as well as in university press publishing. At the moment her home base is Dakar, Senegal, where she is supposed to be teaching but is doing far more learning, as you will see by reading her blog at www.senegalschoolmarm.blogspot.com