Do not mistake pointing out a flaw for a personal attack

One of the things you learn early on when conducting any form of humanities based research is that evidence requires narrative, and that effective publication of evidence takes skill and deft handling to produce. Personally I much prefer humanities scholarship to pure scientific output because it allows me to situate evidence within a cultural context rather than stating a bald fact, something which those who dislike the humanities take much issue with. I have a BSc and an MSc, so I am aware of the difference in approaches, though as with anything this does come down to personal preference and taste. What I do find hard, though, is when people assume I am acting in bad faith simply for stating a fact in the round, like that piece of information is an inherent personal attack on their core identity. Given my field of research it is easy for me to state something that trans folk, exclusionary feminists, men’s rights advocates, and others might object to, yet the reality is I prefer to write narratives that work with all the evidence rather than simply cherry picking one fact and blowing it out of context.

This is a hard lesson to learn for any student, especially who you start out writing. The jump from high school to university is one from stating facts to critically engaging with evidence in context. Historians are trained from day one year one of university to situate evidence, to craft the best narrative possible to fit will all the sources at your disposal. Law scholars are trained to do the same, though there is a significant difference between legal practice and legal scholarship. Practice requires you to find the best caselaw to fit your client’s supplied evidence, or to disprove the claimant, and scholarship requires you to analyse caselaw, legislation, and legal theory through which ever lens you are choosing to use. This is the biggest leap from raw facts, it is the critical engagement and narrative construction that separates the object fact from the subjective understanding.

A fact in the world is essentially an orphan object shorn of context. Every fact has context, meaning that the evidence you see is in essence an accumulation of a whole series of context, each of which we approach from our own personal subjectivities. What may be considered objective in isolation is in fact approached from our own subjectivities. Getting up set at an isolated fact is potentially a rational response to that information, especially when that evidence is used against your personal world view. However, as is often the case in any humanities subject, those facts require a deeper contextualisation to make actual sense of them. Thus, when someone points out a flaw it is often better to take a step back and contextualise it rather than go on the offensive, as often this new evidence can be recontextualised to help you.

Now, of course, not all facts and evidence are equal, and it would be trite of me to pretend they are. If someone is attacking your core identity from a position of pure harassment then they are likely acting in bad faith. In these cases it is reasonable to simply rebut it by pointing that or ignoring them. However, it is also bad practice to simply reject evidence just because you do not want to listen to an idea. No one is under any obligation to listen or engage with anything anyone else puts out into the world, though it is wise to at least parse it to ensure you are not missing a key issue you could later recontextualise for your own purposes.

All of which is to say that simply dismissing something as a personal attack or an attack on your worldview is bad practice. On a personal level I always try to critically engage with a source, look at the evidence, and only then make a comment. Some things are indeed easy to dismiss, especially when it is personal opinion disguised as fact. Others stop and make me think, challenging me to engage in ideas that I would not have otherwise thought about. Much of my writing has been shaped as a response to those provocations, resulting in me see the world from fresh perspectives on a daily basis.

Being challenged and provoked is not an inherently bad thing, yet there comes a point when that can feel overwhelming. I do not agree with Kathleen Stock or Jorden Petersen that Millennials and Gen Z are soft or woke. Not wanting to engage with certain issues, or stating that certain values are beyond the pail is standard practice for all generations. Yet, if you cannot face critique of your ideas and values then potentially you will come unstuck. All ideas must be scrutinised, must be shown to have personal merit in your own eyes at the very least, otherwise all you are doing is acting on faith. It is your personal journey to engage and hold your values to the test, so that when others challenge those values you have the fortitude of mind to engage willingly with them.

Maybe it is a bit rich for someone like to state this, especially given my career and desired vocation. I enjoy being provoked, thrive on being challenged, and am more than happy to stand up for myself. It takes a lot for me to be knocked off my feet, yet it also does not take a huge amount for me to come around to a new idea. One of the best pieces of advice I ever received was to be like a blade of grass in the soil, flexible to the world though with deep enough roots not to get blown away. It serves me well, but is not always the best approach when you absolutely need to stand firm against a tirade or hurricane of abuse coming your way.

Ultimately I always try to act in the best possible faith, so when I point out a flaw or present counter argument it never comes from a place of personal animus towards another person. This is not an easy stance to take, especially when the socials are so full of deliberately targeted attacks against you as a person. There is no right or wrong way to approach those situations, and it would be naive to think you ever could get through with evidence alone. All I can do, all any of us really can do, is assume that there a human on the other end of the screen (until proven otherwise) who is an emotive person as much as you. That at least allows for the possibility of empathy, which is a good starting point in my view. Not naïve, just hopeful that other people can be reasoned with to a degree.