Respectful Debate: A Hillsdale Tradition
Written by Lauren Smith
“Should a company cheat the system just because other companies are, or do they have a responsibility to operate fairly?”
“Is economics just about monetary gain, or do other gains—personal, spiritual, moral—count toward profit?”
“Should firms respect morality, or should they act purely in pursuit of monetary profit for their shareholders?”
Forty-five minutes of heated debate and six pizzas later, we still hadn’t reached a consensus. But we at least came closer than before, because instead of trying to figure out the answers alone, we’d publicly and politely disagreed. By struggling to prove that I was right and my opponent was wrong, I learned that maybe I wasn’t completely right. Maybe my opponent had a point, too. Maybe we could even eventually agree—something that was only possible because we stopped what we were doing, listened to each other, and only then began to argue.
This particular luncheon, featuring free pizza alongside fierce debate, was hosted by the political economy club Praxis and was open to anyone on campus, even those not planning to major in political economy. Though the club is student-run, a faculty member attended as a moderator to let the student board participate in the discussion. Our theme, which was announced in advance, was “Resolved: Profit when you can?!” and we were given three news stories to spark discussion: 1) A food truck that was closed to prevent competition to local restaurants, 2) Price hikes on Epi-Pens when a competitor temporarily withdrew from the market, and 3) Price gouging on water during a hurricane. We started off by going around the table, introducing ourselves, and stating our initial opinions. Then we drew our swords and went to battle.
One remarkable feature of the debate was its civility. Though the group started with a broad range of opinions, and though some debaters held their opinions more strongly than others, no one got frustrated, no one got angry, and no one even raised their voice. Instead, we laughed with (and occasionally at) each other, formed miniature alliances, and came up with all sorts of economics jokes, including the infamous “Joint McPhee and Smith Anti-Philanthropic Principle,” an apparently innocent economic policy that became repulsive at its extreme. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the short break from classes and the moderating professor’s more experienced insights.
No one left the table without having learned something new, either about a previously held opinion or about economics in general. Our discussion ranged from unfamiliar terms (such as rent seeking) to “practical” examples (“If you saw a classmate stranded in the desert, would you sell them water or give it to them?”) to real-world examples (“Should life-saving drug prices be permitted to rise?”) Most of us had considered these issues before, but none of us had taken all possible viewpoints into account.
These kinds of conversations aren’t limited to organized events. Find any Hillsdale student and challenge them to defend their beliefs, and they’ll jump at the opportunity. In my journalism class last semester, for example, the teacher asked students to state their opinion on a current political issue. Once they’d told him, he said, “Now be a journalist and defend what you just said.” We were ready with our answers, which sparked unforgettable class discussions. Similarly, my philosophy professor taught the class by disagreeing with us. “You probably all think it’s wrong to kick puppies,” he once said, eliciting laughter from the class, “but why do you think that? Don’t just tell me ‘because that’s how it is.’ Tell me why it’s true. Convince me.”
By attempting to persuade others, and by acknowledging and listening to opposing viewpoints, Hillsdale students strengthen their core beliefs, learn to defend their values, and expand their understanding of opposing positions. Opportunities to engage in these debates are plentiful. Moreover, when I joined the discussion, I was confident I wouldn’t find myself trapped in a hostile argument. Rather, I came away with even stronger friendships and deeper understanding of the topics we debated.
Lauren Smith, ’25, is a prospective political economy major and French minor. Outside of starting arguments in philosophy class, she enjoys curling up on a bench outdoors (sun, rain, or snow) to write novels or articles for her blog, www.laurensmythbooks.com.
Published in February 2022