Conclusion
I am not sure it is possible to have a debate about immigration, or indeed about any serious topic, before an election. Perhaps there’s too much posturing! Is it possible after an election?
I set out to engage Neil Parrott in a debate about immigration. I believe I prepared good material, and I hope that readers find it thought-provoking and sometimes entertaining. I am confident that most of what I wrote was new to most readers. And yet, I must admit that I failed in what I set out to do. This short book presents one position, not the invaluable give-and-take of a debate.
Dorothy Day, a Communist turned Christian who wrote about war and poverty and labor and all the issues of the 20th century, believed that everyone is born with a deep and nearly unquenchable love of truth. She believed that the best way for people to find the truth was to have all positions on any question presented as clearly and forcefully and possible. If we hear all the arguments presented clearly, and we are allowed to react freely and without pressure, we will be attracted by the beauty of the truth.
I think we need a public debate about immigration, with all sides presented clearly. I failed to bring that about.
It seems to me that real communication about significant issues is impossible until the speakers understand and trust each other. I think it is hard, almost impossible, to hear even the most persuasive and most powerful and all-around best arguments – from someone you don’t understand and trust. You can start an argument, and make some headway, but it’s just scoring points until the debaters start listening, really listening, to each other. In general, it seems to me that real listening requires that the debaters take time to hear each other’s stories. The stories we tell do not replace logic, but they are much more than mere examples that illustrate a point. Stories make it possible for a human to communicate with another human, heart to heart.
I understand that in the immigration debate, most opponents of immigration (proponents of restrictions) are tired of hearing stories that seem designed to engage emotions instead of thought. Sometimes, stories cause “compassion fatigue.” Sometimes, they seem designed to stir guilt. I understand that problem, and I try to limit my use of stories, at least at the outset of a debate about immigration. But at the same time, I am keenly aware that both Moses and Jesus, addressing issues related to immigration, carefully and insistently shifted from logical argument to stories. So I certainly won’t stay away from stories.
But I do think that a real debate is impossible until the debaters trust each other enough to tell – and, more importantly, of course, to hear – stories. I failed to get to that beginning point of real communication.
It seems to me that one of the great breakthroughs that stories can facilitate is making a distinction between what people say and what really drives them. Some years ago, I had the opportunity to witness a fight between two groups of activists who had been allies, apparently about an issue of labor relations. Both sides made good points, but there was a huge anger, even bitterness, between the parties involved – an anger that was not justified by the points they were making. Near the end of the fight, I began to see that what drove them had little to do with their stated positions. Each of them was defending what someone else, hidden in the background, had said. The fire in the fight had nothing whatsoever to do with the issues that were on the table; for each of them, the fire was a matter of loyalty to a beloved and vulnerable friend who wasn’t in the room, who wasn’t even acknowledged openly.
For real communication to take place, the debaters need to trust each other, need to tell stories, and need to identify what it is that drives them to fight for their position. That’s not to diminish the importance of the stated position; it’s just that sometimes – or often, perhaps almost always – the fire and passion in a debate is only loosely connected to the facts that are in the open.
I failed to get to clarify the fire that drives opponents in this collision of values.
Three failures: We didn’t achieve trust, didn’t get to stories, and didn’t identify the passion that drives our opponents. One day, somewhere, God willing the debate will go forward.
What I have tried to offer, then, is limited. It is just 20 points, presented clearly and briefly. I think that most readers will find most of them, perhaps all 20 of them, to be new and thought-provoking.
The United States has been and remains a great nation. But our greatness is based in part on our commitment to ideals. We define ourselves as a people united – not by color or ethnic background or national origin – but by beliefs. We hold several truths to be self-evident: that all people are created equal, and are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. In his Inaugural Address, John Kennedy spoke of a torch passed to a new generation of Americans. The “torch” was our commitment to ideas, not privilege nor wealth nor a firm grip on the best slice of God’s green earth. “The same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe – the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God,” Kennedy said. “We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution.”
