In the world of punditry, point of view matters. Whether that talking head is a political strategist for a certain campaign or a former lobbyist for a certain movement will likely inform his/her opinion on the subject at hand--especially since that subject at hand is likely to involve the very same movement or campaign.
Right or wrong, we have come to believe that commentators should show "impartiality," but this is a virtual impossibility. I recall writing a paper many years ago on a Shakespeare play where I argued (or more accurately, attempted to argue) that the point of the play was that there was no point. I found it impossible to draw any conclusion, because the conclusion was that there was no conclusion. As I grew more confused, you can only guess what happened to my argument. My teaching assistant sympathized with my dilemma, but couldn't give me better than a B- for a seven-page paper that failed to reach any conclusion.
So it is with punditry. If we argue a certain point of view, it goes without saying that we must take that point of view. On modern news channels, it further follows that the pundit personally agrees with the point of view. This allows him/her to present the sort of impassioned argument that eventually degenerates to the nonsense that we Americans love to watch.
It follows, but it does not have to be so. Lawyers are both admired and despised for their ability to argue dispassionately. A defense lawyer, for example, may represent his/her client according to the laws of the state while finding the client personally reprehensible. But the job is to represent the client, so that is what the lawyer does.
The critical issue is not to have "impartial" commentators, but rather, to ensure that their partiality is transparent. This is best illustrated in the separate field of scientific research. It is important to know that the study showing the great benefits of drug X was funded by the company that makes drug X. It is important to know that the commentator talking about the many positives of political candidate Y just received $20,000 to work for candidate Y.
Neither of the above examples prove, a priori, that the information given is invalid. They simply lead us to conclude that we need further information before we can make an informed judgment. And this is where our great cynicism hurts us, for just as an argument with no conclusion degenerates into nonsense, so a cynicism about bias leads to paralysis. We can't trust A because of B, but we can't trust C because of D. We can't trust E's comments about A and C because D once worked with E on a completely unrelated project. And don't even start about F.
We believe that our cynicism leads to better judgment, but just the opposite occurs. Because we distrust everyone, we fall back to our own opinion--we can't call it judgment, because we refuse to believe any facts about the issue, which are all biased. We end up listening to that which we already believe and ignoring that which we don't. Rather than taking the transparency about a proponent's bias to inform our opinion and remove bias from it, we use perceived bias to dismiss opposing viewpoints, thereby reinforcing our biases.
I have a conclusion for this argument: don't demand impartiality from commentators, but neither fall into the trap of listening only to one point of view. By learning to see the bias in everyone's opinions, we can develop better filters to allow us to reach informed decisions on the important issues of our time.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
victory
One of the themes of the GWOT has been winning and losing. We can't lose Iraq. We aren't winning Afghanistan. We will win this war.
But as Donald Rumsfeld asked years ago, how do we know if we are winning? Can we define winning in a body count? The temptation is to say yes, because that gives us something that we can easily measure. But if we've learned anything over the last 7 years, it's that killing more of them than they've killed of us hasn't contributed to victory.
Is it in the absence of attacks? If the U.S. homeland is never again attacked, have we "won"? The problem with this definition can be illustrated in Israel. Israel has historically preconditioned negotations with the Palestinians on stopping all attacks against Isreal. But no terrorist movement is so unified. The very threat of terrorism is in its asymmetry. A few people with limited resources can easily carry out a terrorist attack. If countries as powerful as the U.S. and Israel cannot stop such attacks, it is ludicrous to suggest that governments as weak as the Palestinian ones can. Thus, the West will never "win" such wars. (And you could argue that Israel knows this, and that setting such a precondition is simply a tactic to avoid negotiations.)
Counter-insurgency strategies usually refer to "winning hearts and minds" of populations in order to "win" the war. But once we move away from body counts or numbers of attacks, we encounter the problem of how to measure our "victory". And so we go back to wondering whether we're "winning" or "losing".
In reading excerpts from Bob Woodward's latest book in The Washington Post a few weeks ago, I was struck by how often Pres. Bush referred to "winning". I want to win, how do we win, we have to win. It seems so black and white when put that way. But I suspect that we will never "win" the GWOT until we begin to understand the nuances involved--and there is considerable evidence that we are starting to do so.
Exhibit A is in Iraq, where we enlisted former Sunni insurgents to assist in providing security and fighting al-Qaida. That strategy has been largely successful, and if the transition of moving "Awakening Councils" or "Sons of Iraq" from American to Iraqi government (Shia) control is successful, will likely allow the U.S. to withdraw from Iraq in the next five years with a reasonable claim to "victory".
Let us hope that Exhibit B will come from Afghanistan, when we begin to negotiate with the Taliban, as a number of prominent people have begun to suggest. Unfortunately, Afghanistan has to progress much further before it can achieve a footing similar to Iraq. (While Afghanistan has more people than Iraq, it has a budget only 1/20th the size.) By bringing the Taliban into the government, they can become part of the solution rather than the problem. Then perhaps all of that Western money can go into economic development rather than military power, and "victory" can be measured in dollars rather than lives lost.
But as Donald Rumsfeld asked years ago, how do we know if we are winning? Can we define winning in a body count? The temptation is to say yes, because that gives us something that we can easily measure. But if we've learned anything over the last 7 years, it's that killing more of them than they've killed of us hasn't contributed to victory.
Is it in the absence of attacks? If the U.S. homeland is never again attacked, have we "won"? The problem with this definition can be illustrated in Israel. Israel has historically preconditioned negotations with the Palestinians on stopping all attacks against Isreal. But no terrorist movement is so unified. The very threat of terrorism is in its asymmetry. A few people with limited resources can easily carry out a terrorist attack. If countries as powerful as the U.S. and Israel cannot stop such attacks, it is ludicrous to suggest that governments as weak as the Palestinian ones can. Thus, the West will never "win" such wars. (And you could argue that Israel knows this, and that setting such a precondition is simply a tactic to avoid negotiations.)
Counter-insurgency strategies usually refer to "winning hearts and minds" of populations in order to "win" the war. But once we move away from body counts or numbers of attacks, we encounter the problem of how to measure our "victory". And so we go back to wondering whether we're "winning" or "losing".
In reading excerpts from Bob Woodward's latest book in The Washington Post a few weeks ago, I was struck by how often Pres. Bush referred to "winning". I want to win, how do we win, we have to win. It seems so black and white when put that way. But I suspect that we will never "win" the GWOT until we begin to understand the nuances involved--and there is considerable evidence that we are starting to do so.
Exhibit A is in Iraq, where we enlisted former Sunni insurgents to assist in providing security and fighting al-Qaida. That strategy has been largely successful, and if the transition of moving "Awakening Councils" or "Sons of Iraq" from American to Iraqi government (Shia) control is successful, will likely allow the U.S. to withdraw from Iraq in the next five years with a reasonable claim to "victory".
Let us hope that Exhibit B will come from Afghanistan, when we begin to negotiate with the Taliban, as a number of prominent people have begun to suggest. Unfortunately, Afghanistan has to progress much further before it can achieve a footing similar to Iraq. (While Afghanistan has more people than Iraq, it has a budget only 1/20th the size.) By bringing the Taliban into the government, they can become part of the solution rather than the problem. Then perhaps all of that Western money can go into economic development rather than military power, and "victory" can be measured in dollars rather than lives lost.
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