Showing posts with label emotion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotion. Show all posts

Saturday, November 5, 2011

ad hominem attacks (teaching our kids to think: Part IV)

... the next step? ...
We have heard the contribution from the Leader of the Opposition and I have to say from a personal point of view I felt sick listening to him.  I felt sick because what he espoused was actually bigotry, effectively.

- Ms O'Connor, MHR (Tasmania - Labor), 21 September 2011, 12:58p.m.

Your views are offensive, oppressive and unacceptable ...  It is little wonder that the Leader of the Opposition, Mr Hodgman, made a speech unbefitting of a leader of a political party.  It was a shameful, divisive, reactionary, unpleasant speech that made me feel ill to even hear him utter the words that he spoke.  ...He is a man who clearly does not understand what discrimination means, a man who in my view has abused his position to represent people. ...In stark contradiction to the cowardice shown by the Leader of the Opposition ...

- Mr Booth, MHR (Tasmania - Greens), 21 September 2011, 3.01p.m.


Why on earth are we paying these people? I would have thought, in a supposedly rational age, that we are to be governed by evidence and by reasoned arguments. Instead, I find that we are governed by the delicate stomachs of some Labor and Greens MPs. 


Obviously that is overstated - I'm sure I hope I pray that the decisions of government that count (as opposed to symbolic motions such as the Tasmanian same-sex marriage motion) are made on the basis of evidence and reason.


This exchange in the Parliament shows a side of argument that is all too common, and extremely ugly. It's called an ad hominem attack (or argument), and just means an attack/argument directed at the person (rather than at the content of what a person is saying).


An ad hominem attack is a distraction - it could be intentional (to divert attention away from an argument that a proponent knows to be weak) or unintentional (I can't think of anything else to say, so I'll attack the other side). Frankly, it doesn't matter which. The point is to recognise an ad hominem attack, and to know how to sidestep it. It is vital not to engage with it (waste of breath), or descend to such tactics (because the person you're speaking with will stop listening!)


An easy technique to sidestep such an attack is to step out of the argument for a moment, and to narrate what's been going on.  For instance:
I've just supported my opposition to same-sex marriage by arguing that marriage is not just a word that can be redefined. It describes, in a unique cultural context, a treasure and widespread commitment between a man and a woman. You have responded by saying that my words made you feel sick. How does your physical reaction to my argument, or your guess about my motivations, have any bearing on the evidence or reasons for my position?
How might our kids benefit from such a technique? How could they use it? What about:
  • I might just be a kid who knows nothing about this, but what would you say to an adult who asked the same question / raised the same objection?
  • I know I still need to learn a lot. Can you please help me? Can you please tell me why you think my views are wrong?
Can you think of other examples? What do you get your kids to say in response to a personal attack?  

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Sugar and spice ...

Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.
Ephesians 6:4

If you have daughters, you will have heard the line "sugar and spice and all things nice, that's what little girls are made of." Well that line was written by a boy who was trying to get a girl - not by a man with daughters! To be sure, there is plenty of lovely things about daughters, but there is no doubt that they are full of all sorts of things that are not all nice. My daughters are a bundle of emotions, even at the tender ages of 7 and 5. They go from playing nicely together one moment, to screaming, physical violence and "I'm not your friend anymore, and I mean it!" the next. They can go from happily relating a fun night at the school disco to a complete teary meltdown because said disco ended 15 minutes early, and said daughter didn't get a spot prize.


I am not a particularly emotional man, so when the emotional whirlwind hits it takes me way outside my comfort zone. I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto!


My default position (to my shame) is "shut it down". I reach for whatever it takes to switch off the emotional storm - whether sending the offending child out of the room, or back to her bed, or bribing her with treats, or caving in to her requests. Although I know that this is not a good way to raise my daughters, I resort to this tactic all too often. When the crisis hits, my parenting range is too limited to change.


In the last couple of weeks, though, I have started to see a better way. It's nothing to do with me - it has entirely been the Holy Spirit prompting me. God is gracious even in my tiredness and inability to respond immediately to my girls - it has meant a precious few seconds of silence when I can hear the better way that the Spirit is leading me to. He has shown me that the better way is to weather the storm with my daughter, rather than to shield myself from it.


So the other day, when Eldest's voice was again raised in rage at her sister, I could encourage her to use words to express why she was angry, rather than relying solely on her tone of voice to convey the fact that she was angry. (Thanks again to Ross Campbell's book How to really parent your child, and particularly the excellent chapters on helping your children to nullify anger.)


And the other night, when my sleepless child melted into tears hours after the great disco disappointment, rather than blowing my top, I could take her in my arms and talk through her disappointments. I could tell her about similar times I'd had growing up. I could reassure her that she was normal, that she was precious. We could pray together about the tumult in her heart.  


And as we weathered the storm together, we both found that indescribable peace that Jesus promises.