DON'T SAY "NEXUS;" SAY "CONNECTION" : WHY I DON'T LIKE PRETENTIOUS LANGUAGE

AN ESSAY

During my first year in law school, I had to take a "legal writing course." It was pure misery. The "professor" was really no professor at all, but rather a disgruntled low-level staffer from the Attorney General's office who worked part-time scolding terrified first-semester students for putting one space before a period rather than two. She never praised anyone. And she consciously tried to drain all individuality from everyone's writing. She said: "This is legal writing. It's time to un-learn everything you've ever learned about writing. Right now."

In her defense, legal writing is certainly different from expository writing. It follows distinct conventions and customs that differ from the classic liberal arts essay. It proceeds along identifiable logical pathways and channels arguments to lead ineffably to a conclusion. It is not subtle. Legal writing does not hide anything from the reader. It tells him exactly what he is reading and repeats it about fifty times before it is over. In our legal writing class, we learned how to manufacture these technical baubles. And we got lots of bad grades along the way to remind us that we missed some essential detail or other.

I became a pretty decent legal writer. After all, it isn't difficult. It's just a skill, like baking. There is no artistry to it. You just take a position, organize some arguments to support it and start declaring why you're right. You avoid the passive voice, follow a set sentence structure and repeat your argument over and over again. You make all your sentences declarative and begin each closing line in a paragraph with "thus." Clarity is important. Subtlety is not. And why should it be? After all, if you're writing to a court to win a case, you don't want to leave your fate to interpretation, do you? Hell no. You want to scream why you're right; and you'll be damned if you hesitate in your demand for victory.

But there is irony in all this. Legal writing--like the law in general--leads lawyers to believe that they possess magical powers. After all, lawyers feel exulted because they know that they can influence the machinery of the State to deprive others of property, liberty and even their lives. They influence that machinery through advocacy, including writing. For that reason, lawyers believe that their "legal writing" opens the doorway to power over others.

Yet there is nothing magical about the law or legal writing. In fact, I came to understand that legal writing actually wields very little influence, despite the mythology to the contrary. When I practiced law, my superiors praised my writing. I thought it led courts to make better decisions in particular cases. But time after time, I saw that judges probably had not even read what I had written. Rather, they knew beforehand how they would rule in a case and carried that prejudice with them through the proceeding. No matter how grand my rhetoric or airtight my logic, my writing would never dislodge an entrenched conviction. Just because I nailed all the technical criteria required for "good legal writing" did not mean I would magically win the case.

All this sobered me about the "power of the law." I learned that there was a vast propaganda machine at work perpetuating the idea that "judges were impartial" and that "good arguments always persuade." The cruel fact is that judges and lawyers are just as shortsighted and prejudiced as the next man. They make decisions based upon their cultural intuition, social values and emotional reactions. They can skillfully cite the law to provide a seemingly "neutral" justifications for their decisions. But in the end, "good legal writing"--and even "good arguments"--will almost never change minds.

Nor should it. Legal writing is agonizingly formulaic. I even wonder how judges can even keep their eyes open when they read it. And who really needs to know what one side in a case says? You can pretty much figure out what each side wants in the case simply by looking at the facts. If a person gets injured, he's going to say the other guy is at fault and should pay him money. The other guy will say he's not at fault and shouldn't have to pay. Or maybe he'll say the injured guy caused his own injury, so he's excused. Our legal system is adversarial. That means that you can figure out exactly what each side wants beforehand: Team A wants to make money; Team B wants to save money. Each accuses the other of bad faith and shouts to the court why he should win.

It's not complicated. It's just a game: One team wants to beat the other. You don't need masterful writing to understand how most cases go. Our adversary system explains it all. And chances are a judge will form an intuitive opinion about the dispute long before he reads what either team has to say about it. So nothing either team says will change the result.

Yet lawyers love their writing, even if it does not ultimately influence anyone. Worse, they scold lower-level employees who do not use the right words in court papers. This may seem meaningless--after all, why insist on particular words if the writing does not affect the outcome in the end?--but it happens. It is as if lawyers understand that their writing will change no one's mind, yet they adhere to rigorous standards merely to show that they can. This is sheer pretentiousness, and I don't like it. Moreover, it is pretentiousness without reason; for even when lawyers use all the right formats, phrases and page headings, their writing will not influence the judge. He has already taken an intuitive notion about the case.

Take this example: In legal writing class, we learned that you must always recite a legal rule exactly as it appears in a case. Over the centuries, pretentious judges have written pretentiously (and sometimes very poorly) about the law. When they lay down a legal rule in a particular case, they enshrine bad writing for generations to come. But in legal writing class, you must cite the rule exactly as it appeared. I recall an example about some lawyer being disciplined for neglecting his client. Once upon a time, a court said there had to be a "nexus" between the lawyer's conduct and resulting harm in order to determine whether an attorney should be disciplined for client neglect.

What the hell is a "nexus?" In law school, I remember thinking: "What a pretentious, unnecessary word. You can just use the word 'relationship,' or even 'connection' to express the same idea without sounding like a complete SAT-word-dropping douchebag.'" So in my brief, I cited the rule without using "nexus." I changed it to "connection." I thought it sounded more accessible. It sounded less arcane. I did not want to sound like a spell-casting sorcerer when I wrote. I wanted my reader to understand immediately what the law said.

But I got a bad grade on that paper because I did not literally use the word "nexus" in reciting the legal rule. It did not matter that my formulation expressed the rule better than the judge's legalese. No, details are important in legal writing, even really bad details that do nothing to improve communication or style.

Still, at the time I had not yet recognized that the law cared nothing for style. I had always prided myself on making my writing as clear and as accessible as possible. It was difficult for me to comprehend that clarity and style did not matter in this new discipline. I resented the formality and structure in legal writing. Ultimately, I learned to do it with the best of them. But it was just imitation. I never believed that legal writing possessed any intrinsic merit over my traditional, expository style.

Recently, I have begun to see legal writing in a larger context. Now, its rigidity and pretentiousness make sense: They reflect the law's effort to construct a fanciful aura of authority and inaccessibility.

Courts and judges--as well as the governments that institute them--benefit from a population that fears the law. People fear things they do not understand. They cower before institutions that speak in a hard-to-understand way. It makes them obedient and respectful. That is why courts want words like "nexus" instead of "connection." If they used words like "connection," people might understand what they were saying. If that happened, more people might see through the law's charades and disrespect it. They might not even need lawyers to translate all the legal rubbish.

In this light, pretentiousness in legal writing makes some sense. It is a smoke-and-mirror routine. It is Wizard of Oz stuff. It looks impressive. But in the end it's all nonsense. Men behind velvet curtains are still men, even if they use befuddling synonyms for common words.

And the ultimate irony is that even the best legal writing will not impress the men behind the velvet curtain. They already know what they plan to do each day. Lawyers can talk and write until they are blue in the face. It won't change anything.

THE NATIONAL ALLIANCE FOR STIRRING YET EMPTY RHETORIC : AN APPEAL FOR ACTION AND UNITY

By : Mr. Burgess E. Gottlieb, Jr., Ph.D., Chief Logician and Chairman of the Board of Trustees (1995-present); Simon F. Bamberg IV Emeritus (Deceased 1890) Professor of Logic, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut (1960-present); The National Review, Theater Critic (1967-present); Senior Fellow, New York Illusionists' League (emphasis on disappearing acts) (1981-1990).

We can solve any problem. A Nation of laws trusts its principles. And trust in principles solves problems. Thus, when we trust in our principles, we can solve anything. Logic favors our cause. Logic, too, can solve any problem. We believe in logic. That is why we are on the road to success.

There are those who say that our Nation will never recover from economic turmoil. We disagree. A well-argued speech can put all doubts to rest, no matter how severe. As Horace said many centuries ago: "Despite the darkening sky, our resolution shall brighten the horizon." With strong language and compelling logical transitions between paragraphs, we are not just confident of victory. We are certain of it.

Our opponents claim that this is no time for college essays. They even say that papers that might have earned an "A" from the most vindictive, anally-retentive graduate student can do nothing to solve intractable problems that now plague our society. In sum, our opponents claim that rhetoric merely distracts attention from hard reality.

We have a simple response for these naysayers: "Not on our watch." As a National Alliance committed to Empty Yet Stirring Rhetoric, we trust in the power of pleasant, conventional language. We believe that properly moving from verbal premise to conclusion--all the while employing traditional devices such as allusion, metaphor and contrast--can overcome any practical difficulty on earth. No tax quandary, budget deficit or even health crisis can resist a moving speech that draws parallels to sunrises, sunsets, tides or other natural phenomena.

True, practical problems demand practical solutions. But rhetoric is an exception to that rule. Just as every doctrine must yield to a caveat, so too must every practical problem yield to rhetoric. We believe in language, not complexity. We believe that people respond better to conventional linguistic displays than gloomy hopelessness. We believe that people feel better when they hear traditional speech techniques, even if the speech signifies nothing at all. Assurance goes a long way. As rhetorical masters, we understand that.

Solutions are irrelevant compared to comfort. No matter how fiercely the storm may rage outside, a great speech will always give hope. A great speech can lift even the most broken heart. Let the defeatists talk about bankruptcy and disorder. As believers in rhetoric, we speak a different language. We speak the language of hope, inspiration and grandeur. Even if our words have no basis at all in reality, they can still move hearts. And that's all that really matters. Who needs reality when you have great rhetoric?

We stand on a precipice. We stand against the wind. Today we stand. Tomorrow we rise. On the third day, we shall prevail. There is no day but what we make. These are our days. We are what we say. We are the People because we are free. Let freedom ring. We refuse to go quietly. We shall never surrender.

No issue can withstand a well-placed cliché. No problem can frustrate an inspiring, empty phrase. We are the People. We are unafraid. We are not afraid to believe in empty words. They make us feel good. We expect to hear them. We like to hear what we expect.

We believe in logic, too. Like rhetoric, logic assures us. Men named George all live to be older than 50. If a man is named George, he will not die at 36. This man is named not named George. Therefore, he might die at 36. Who can resist logic?

What difference does it make in the end whether we actually solve problems? As long as we speak fluently and make logical sense, we have succeeded. We understand that people do not really want solutions; they just want to hear what they expect. Logic and rhetoric sound nice. One idea flows from the next. People deserve to hear what they expect. That is why we believe in logic and rhetoric. Convention is more important than reality.

What is reality but what we believe? Rhetoric makes us believe. Thus, rhetoric can shape reality. Our opponents say that we do nothing but talk. But talking creates reality as much as action does. And when enough people listen to us, we truly change the world. That is why our rhetoric is not as empty as our critics think. We even use similes to help our listeners grasp our points: "Like a sturdy oak, our roots run deep."

We do not need to explain. It just sounds good. And people believe in things that sound good.

Now is now. Right now means right now, not yesterday. Yesterday means yesterday, not last Friday. It is time to seize the moment. Put your faith in appealing language. What do you care about reality? Let language become your reality. Isn't it about time that you believed in something? Do not put your faith in fickle facts and figures. Put your faith in inspiring phrases, hackneyed slogans and memorable one-line syllogisms. Life is complicated enough as it is. Give your mind a break. You must simply decide to believe. You must simply accept the rhetoric. Then you will be free.

You know you want to. You want to suspend your disbelief. You want to say: "I am the People" without guilt or embarrassment. You can do it. Answer the call. Be part of the solution, not the problem. All you need to do is listen. All you need to do is be free.

Let us all unite for a simpler world. Let us all unite for language we can all anticipate and admire. This is not a time for division. This is a time for healing and love. Healing and love are better than discord and strife. Belief in rhetoric leads to healing and love. Healing and love lead to unity, not division. Therefore, you must believe in rhetoric if you wish to unite. It is not just the most comforting choice; it is also the logical one.

You see? Rhetoric does not exclude logic. In fact, good rhetoric makes logical sense. In that way, it marries emotion with reason. It offers the best of both worlds. Great rhetoric lets us feel at the same time it prompts us to think. Just as the blacksmith smelts ore and charcoal to make steel, so too does the great speaker marry reason and emotion to create rhetoric.

But enough of that. It is time to believe. It is time to trust. Give in to rhetoric; you can do it. Haven't you endured enough uncertainty in your life? Well, it's time to move on. It's time to let yourself be swept away in grand rhetorical fantasies. There is no reality but what we make. Today is yours. You can believe.

Today is a moment in time. Grasp your moment. Time is yours. There is no time but today. And it is time. Together is better than apart. Together, we can do anything. Let's get together. Because together is better. It is time to get together.

THE POLITICAL ASSOCIATION UNITED FOR THE MURDER OF ALL PEOPLE WITH WHOM THEY DISAGREE

POLITICAL PARTIES FOR A CHANGING WORLD

By : Mr. Martin F. Buckley, Esq., Chairman and Political Analyst; J.D. (Harvard Law School 1983); Free Speech Advocate (with exceptions for appropriateness).

We live in a great country because everyone can speak their mind. The United States became powerful because we tolerate many different viewpoints and we profit from an exchange in ideas. Even our legal traditions embody this tolerant approach to intellectual discourse. Unlike many so-called “progressive” European governments, the United States does not ban speech because it disagrees with its content. In Germany, for example, the government bans any speech that glorifies Nazism. Yet here in America, we tolerate such speech. We trust that the American people will listen to every idea and reject the bad ones. In other words, our law doesn’t make martyrs. We let every idea compete for attention in the “marketplace of ideas.” Nazism can’t compete, so Nazis can yack all they want. They have a right to.

But law only tells half the story about free speech in the United States. Just because our law tolerates all viewpoints does not mean we agree with every viewpoint. I, for instance, cannot bear speech about free health care, single-payer systems or “a woman’s right to choose.” I disagree profoundly with all these ideas. Although I acknowledge that our law gives everyone in this country the right to express their views on important issues, that does not mean I do not wish to kill people who disagree with me.

We, the The Political Association United for the Murder of All People With Whom They Disagree, stand for a simple premise: Some ideas are inappropriate. We have particular views about life, property, employment, immigration, child-rearing, health care, military affairs, foreign policy and politics. We have appropriate ideas. We firmly believe that our ideas are the best. If we do not follow them, we are convinced that America will disintegrate into anarchy, socialism or worse. That is why we are committed to defending appropriate ideas. We do not stop with rhetoric. When we lose verbal arguments, we jump over podiums and beat our opponents with iron bars. Free speech is wonderful. But there is only one guaranteed way to defend appropriateness against inappropriate speakers: Murder.

We advocate murder whenever we reach an impasse with people with whom we disagree. Yet we are reasonable people; we only kill our opponents when lesser measures fail. For example, we buy as much airtime as we can to convince our opponents that they are wrong. We show up at their meetings to shout them down or throw trash on their stages. We send targeted newsletters containing false and skewed information about the opposing viewpoint. We even get on national news television shows to make our case before the American people. Yet when these measures fail to convince inappropriate speakers to change their minds, we have no choice. We have to kill them. True, everyone has a right to speak their mind in America. But we also have a duty to ensure that America is safe from inappropriate speech and behavior. The only way to fulfill that duty—while maintaining a healthy respect for free speech rights—is to murder people who disagree with us.

On the whole, murder is a much more effective rhetorical tool than either language or logic. On hot button issues like the environment or race, it is not enough to speak eloquently or convincingly. When a person disagrees with you about race or the environment, you can proffer the most beautiful, logically-airtight arguments in the world, but you still will not sway him. In such cases, murder is the only way to solve the disagreement. It is more fun, too. After all, it is frustrating to debate with a person who stubbornly refuses to change his mind. After a hot verbal exchange, there is nothing more satisfying than to pull out a pistol and shoot the opposing speaker in the head. BANG! That’ll teach you to advocate clean-air technology and affirmative action! In such circumstances, logic only goes so far: Only firearms can firmly settle deadlocked debates.

These are not new ideas. Throughout history, appropriate speakers have won debates by eliminating their ideological opponents. Roman emperors killed those who advocated inappropriate solutions to problems. So did medieval kings. Put simply, only those willing to kill for their ideas have truly left a mark on history. No one ever prevailed in a substantial social debate by outwitting his ideological opponents with florid speeches. No, only murder can put real disagreements to rest. When people make up their minds to think inappropriately, nothing you say will shake them from it. You have to kill them to shut them up.

We proudly follow this tradition. As The Political Association United for the Murder of All People With Whom They Disagree, we are committed to speaking our minds. We have not only a constitutional right, but also a moral obligation to lead America in the appropriate direction on contemporary policy questions. Inappropriate ideas are more dangerous to America than any foreign dictator or Muslim bomber. That is why we stand united to debate and—if necessary, shoot—anyone who refuses to see things our way. We promise always to first use logic and reason to convince others that they are wrong. But when it is clear that we have reached an ideological impasse, we promise to murder our opponents. America deserves to speak with one voice: When disagreements exist, we cannot speak with one voice. That is why we are unafraid to murder those who disagree.

This does not mean that we gainsay the right to free speech under the First Amendment. To the contrary, we believe in the Constitution and liberty. Every American is free to speak, think and believe as his conscience directs. But anyone who disagrees with us does so at his peril. If someone thinks differently than we do, we admonish him to keep a lid on it, because if he debates us, we will kill him. In this way, we maintain a proper balance between our respect for constitutional liberty and our duty to lead America in an appropriate direction. In a word, you are free to think and say what you want; just don’t you dare disagree with us or we’ll put a bullet in your brain.

Never before has our Nation needed our party as much as it needs us now. Never before has our Nation faced so many burning policy questions. For the first time in our Nation’s history, lawmakers seriously debate dismantling the free market system. For the first time in our Nation’s history, a black President is calling for national health care reform. And for the first time in our Nation’s history, we face unprecedented threats from Muslim enemies bent on our destruction.

Yet we are not moving forward. Debates on these issues degenerate into shouting matches and finger-pointing competitions. Both sides tender arguments. Both sides think they know what to do. Nothing gets done because there are too many disagreements.

This is where we come in. Only we can resolve the paralyzing impasse in the national debate. Only we have the courage and fortitude to resolve disagreements in the only way they truly can be resolved: By murder. We will not avert health care collapse until we kill everyone who advocates single-payer systems and Soviet-style “Canada” medicine. We will not achieve domestic security until we kill everyone who advocates closing down Guantanamo Prison and withdrawing from Afghanistan. And we will not rescue the economy until we kill everyone who advocates greater government control over private contracting. At the moment, we cannot move forward on these issues because no one is communicating. People are just jumping up and down, screaming and accusing the other side of “being wrong.” But we promise progress. We promise to solve the disagreements. History is our guide: Disagreements go away as soon as you kill the people who disagree with you.

Aren’t you tired of ineffective government? Aren’t you tired of shrill debates and inappropriate arguments? Don’t you want to start moving forward as Nation? Don’t you feel that we’ve been stuck in the mud for too long? Haven’t you had enough recriminations, backbiting and angry arguments?

If you have, do something about it. Put a party in power that will put an end to all these verbal altercations. Put a party in power with the courage not only to scream and yell at opposing speakers, but kill them, too. We are the Political Association United for the Murder of All People With Whom They Disagree. We are committed to America. We are committed to making the right choices. We do not get bogged down in debates and feuds over abortion and parenting. We just kill people who refuse to see things the way we do.

It’s time to stop the disagreements. Let us be one Nation. Let us speak with one voice. At this challenging time in our Nation’s history, we need unity more than ever. Let us unite—and kill everyone who refuses to join us.

NIETZSCHE & ME : WHO I AM AND WHERE I'M HEADED

OESTERHOUDT STRIKES

I have written almost every day for the past seven months. When I began maintaining this blog, I had a clear vision in mind: I would write satires and essays. I think I have generally held to this vision. But during my recent trip to Berlin I made an important discovery about my own identity as a writer. While there, I picked up one of my favorite old texts, Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals. I read the first twenty pages or so in my hotel room, including the Prologue. Nietzsche always put great weight on his Prologues. He used them to provide some insight into the reasons why he was writing, as well as how he perceived his audience. As I read his words, I felt a close kinship with Nietzsche. Nietzsche always inspired me when I was younger, but only now—after truly immersing myself in writing for many months—do I truly perceive the pervasive influence he has exerted on me. I certainly do not want to compare myself to Nietzsche. I simply believe that my writings continue his tradition: Brash criticism of prevailing values; acerbic analysis; and unashamed pugnacity in confronting long-held “truths.” I also believe that Nietzsche’s approachable prose inspired me to write clearly. Above all else, I attempt to make my writings readable, even if the subject matter is wildly complex. Nietzsche has many followers who did not achieve his readability. Foucault is a prime example. For me, however, rhetoric and readability are essential. How else can I satirize and analyze if others cannot readily grasp my points?

Nietzsche called On the Genealogy of Morals “eine Streitschrift.” Typically, translators render that German word as “A Polemic” in English, namely, a “writing that incites conflict in its readers by strongly advocating a contentious position.” “Polemic” derives from the Greek word for “war.” But in my view, the German sounds so much better. “Streitschrift” derives from two words: “Streiten,” meaning “to dispute, fight or contend” and “die Schrift,” meaning “writing,” or “written piece.” Streiten is a core Germanic word. It gives us our English words “strife” and “strive.” It implies bitter dispute, struggle and a willingness to fight. Viewing these meanings as a whole, then, “polemic” seems an academic and indirect way to label On the Genealogy of Morals. It would be better to stick to Germanic words to convey Nietzsche’s core meaning. His writings “strive,” “struggle,” “fight” and invite “conflict.” They cause “strife.” Germanic words hit harder than Greek ones, at least in English. Nietzsche’s iconoclastic willingness to present unpopular views will always intoxicate me.

Streitschriften. That is what I write.

I adore Nietzsche’s Streitschrift style because it stands in contradistinction to vacuous, faux logical “legal writing.” Nietzsche does not burden the reader with endless references to “legal authorities” or “scholars” when he writes his arguments. He takes a position, drops a bomb then lets the reader figure it out. He does not quote. He does not cite “authors” or “judges” to back his position. He presents his own position. He criticizes authorities; he does not depend on them for persuasiveness. In this sense, legal writing is essentially anti-individualistic. In the law, no argument works without reference to “established authority.” Yet Nietzsche’s writing is quintessentially individualistic. He identifies troubling intellectual issues, cuts to their heart and brutally points out the folly in accepted approaches to those issues. Nietzsche did not shy away from inviting quarrels. He even labeled one of his books “Unzeitgenössische Betrachtungen” (Untimely (or Unpopular) Observations). He did not mind ruffling feathers or presenting unpopular views. Nor did he attempt to convince anyone. Legal writing always attempts to “persuade the reader” to accept this or that position. Nietzsche did no such thing. In his Prologue to the Genealogy of Morals, he wrote that it would be a mistake to try to “decipher” his writing. Rather, he intended his writing to spark “interpretations.” Zur Genealogie der Moral, Vorrede 8, S. 11. He hoped to cultivate “reading as art” rather than labor. To practice that art, he admonished his readers not to be “modern men,” but rather “cows,” because good reading necessarily involves “rechewing.”

I see all these sentiments reflected in my own writing. Although Nietzsche did not write satires, his ruthless criticisms concerning ethics, morals, culture and neglected principles all joyfully mock accepted viewpoints. I share his joy in mocking accepted viewpoints and hypocrisy. That joy burns through my writing, whether satirical or not. Satire is a good vehicle to expose absurdities in culture, argument and power. Nietzsche used aphorisms and short, biting essays to expose those absurdities. I opt for satire because I find it accomplishes the same mission, plus it is fun to write. Nietzsche constantly exhorted his readers to relish their intellectual abilities by mocking accepted notions. “Cheerfulness,” Nietzsche wrote, “or to be more precise and to say it in my own language, ‘The Joyful Science,’ is a reward: a reward for a long, brave, diligent and otherworldly seriousness—something that, freely, will not appeal to all.” Zur Geneaolgie der Moral, Vorrede 7, S. 10. For both Nietzsche and me, there is a joy in criticism, a joy in mocking accepted notions. It is fun to write satires; and there is an “intellectual reward” in it because it makes me—and hopefully some of my readers—“cheerful.”

Nietzsche also knew that not everyone would appreciate him. He recognized that his Streitschriften would insult his targets as much as they would delight his followers. I do the same thing. I recognize that my satires about morality, lawyers, “conventional life,” children, criminal justice, finance, sexuality, politics and capitalism will negatively impact some readers. Some readers will inevitably reject my criticisms or take offense that I mock certain dominant values. Some may even resent me for my own values. But here I quote Nietzsche again: “If this piece is incomprehensible or grates the ears of some listeners, I am not necessarily to blame.” Zur Genealogie der Moral, Vorrede 8, S. 10. If people are offended by what I write because I have “no respect” for certain values, or if I “unfairly simplify” certain issues, they fail to understand that my purpose is neither to convince nor to win. Rather, like Nietzsche, I aim only to “cheerfully” spark “interpretation” by pointing out critically troublesome conundrums in our civilization. If I can bring joy to some and thought to others, I will have succeeded in my mission as a writer. If someone blames me for advocating an unpopular position—or for failing to understand the irony in my satires—then I feel sorry for the reader who did not grasp my purpose. As Nietzsche theorized on this point, perhaps an angry reader should question his own values, rather than mine, to identify the source of his outrage with my critique.

I have learned so much by writing. It is astounding to think that, since beginning this blog, I have written the equivalent of a 600-page book. I have no intention of stopping. I simply think it is important to at times sit back and reflect on the trajectory my writing has followed, and to evaluate whether I have stayed true to my original aims. Reading Nietzsche again showed me not only that I have held the course, but also reminded me that I am part of his ongoing critical tradition. To that extent, do not expect my essays or my satires to contain airtight logic or rigid organizational structure. Rather, expect them to toss rhetorical grenades into tranquil waters. Expect them to breathe with joyful mockery. Let them provide an incitement to think about power, relationships, fairness, equality and principle. Do not expect them to provide answers to every specific question. Rather, let them provide an opportunity to think more deeply about things you might never have thought deeply about. I am not here to convince, persuade or conquer. I am here simply to point a few things out—with Streitschriften. If I cause strife, I apologize; but as Nietzsche said, I am not fully to blame for it. It is “constructive strife.”

Thank you to all who take the time to read—and “rechew”—my posts. If my arguments seem overheated, illogical, disorganized or melodramatic, I have good reason, for Streitschriften are not traditional arguments. Instead, they are invitations to intellectual struggle, and there is joy in that.

PERSUASION

I did not watch last night's Presidential debate. In truth, I did not watch much of the second debate, either. I had a simple reason for this: I have already made up my mind. I do not think I am alone; many other people long ago decided what they will do in this election. No soaring rhetoric, personal barb or quaint turn of phrase will sway me one way or another. Nothing could make me turn Republican, just as nothing could make a Republican turn Democrat. Political affiliation in the United States is as intrinsic as personality. Neither candidate could have said anything to sway anyone last night. People know who they are. No televised words can alter that.

Several weeks ago, I wrote that convictions are blinding. That maxim holds especially true in the political arena. When a person holds strong political convictions, he is immune from persuasion. You could spin the deftest, most subtle and logical arguments, but they would have no effect on him. You could put on the best salesmanship in the world, but it does not stand a chance against conviction. If a person decides he does not want to buy something, nothing you say will change his mind. People are stubborn in their beliefs. That is why the "art of persuasion" is highly overrated. Persuasion only works on people without convictions. To be persuaded, you must have some doubts, or at least some confusion. But when you have convictions in some regard, no rhetoric will ever phase you.

Still, we try to learn how to persuade people. In high school, we learn how to write "persuasive essays" and "argumentative statements" in order to convince our readers that we are right. In law school, we learn how to write "persuasive briefs" and how to make "persuasive oral arguments" to convince higher authorities to accept our positions. We honestly think that we can master "technical persuasive tools," which in turn give us a magical power to change people's minds. This is a pernicious myth. When we write or speak to others, our audience already knows what it believes. Either our rhetoric matches what the audience already believes, or it does not. We can only hope to change minds when our audience has some doubt. But again, when people have convictions, they have no doubts. Therefore, it is futile to try to persuade them against their convictions.

Justice Antonin Scalia recently published a book entitled "The Art of Persuading Judges." He argues that there are certain technical "persuasion skills" that can change a judge's mind. This made me laugh out loud because Justice Scalia is the last person who would ever alter his convictions in the face of rhetoric. Justice Scalia, like every other Supreme Court justice, has definite views about every constitutional issue that comes before the Court. If a case involves the death penalty, Justice Scalia will vote to affirm the conviction. If a case involves racial discrimination, Justice Scalia will recite his theory about a "colorblind Constitution" and find no racial animus. If a case involves habeas corpus, Justice Scalia will rule against foreign enemy combatants. These are his convictions. If Patrick Henry, Cicero and Daniel Webster combined to form the perfect orator arguing the case for the opposite conclusion, Justice Scalia would not be impressed. He knows how he will rule because he has a definite view about the issue. He cannot be persuaded.

Justice Scalia cannot be persuaded for another reason: He believes he is smarter than the people arguing to him. In case after case, he excoriates attorneys who dare to make arguments for positions he rejects. In other words, he would put himself in an inferior position if he allowed himself to be persuaded by another person. Persuasion, after all, implies that one person makes another person abandon his previous belief and accept a new one. To abandon one's belief, one must necessarily acknowledge that one previously held the wrong position. Justice Scalia could never do that. He always holds the right position, and no one will convince him otherwise.

In fairness, I do not limit my criticism to Justice Scalia. Every other Justice has definite views on issues, and it is easy to predict how they will react to cases involving those views. Supreme Court justices have abiding convictions. For that reason, I wonder why the Supreme Court even bothers to hear oral arguments one way or the other. They will not convince anyone. It is just a bunch of wasted breath.

American voters scarcely differ from Supreme Court justices when it comes to convictions. At the risk of endorsing stereotypes, there are certain unalterable opinions that typify both Democrats and Republicans. Democrats, for example, do not object to welfare programs for the poor. By contrast, Republicans despise all support for people who do not work at a "regular job." It is impossible to craft an argument to convince either side to abandon its position. John McCain can argue all he wants about scrapping welfare, but he will not change a single Democrat's mind. Similarly, Barack Obama can argue all he wants about spending more money on "green industry," but he will not persuade a single Republican to accept his position. That is why it does not make sense to watch another debate: Neither candidate will say anything to change your mind. Perhaps the only reason to watch another debate would be to loathe the opposing viewpoint and revel in one's own position. But this has nothing to do with persuasion or logic; it has everything to do with mere emotional stimulation.

If persuasion is a futile endeavor, why do so many people attempt it? There are two reasons. First, there are some issues on which people truly do not hold a belief. In commerce, for example, people do not hold beliefs about products they do not know. To that extent, a salesman can advocate one product over another, taking advatage of the listener's ignorance and lack of belief. In that case, persuasive tools can sway the audience to the speaker's position. Second, there are issues about which a person may hold a doubtful belief. For example, a person may have an intuitive sense that someone committed a crime. But when a defense attorney steps forward with strong evidence that the suspect did not commit the crime, the listener will come over to the suspect's position. In other words, doubtful belief invites persuasion.

Still, there are so many issues about which people have no doubt at all; rather, they have convictions. In those circumstances, persuasion is truly quixotic. Put another way, persuasion is useless against convictions. And in political discourse, people hold the deepest convictions. If that is true, why bother having a debate in the first place?