Hostility in public meetings?
Sometimes it’s reasonable
By Clint Talbott
A citizen approaches the microphone during the public-comment at a Boulder Valley School Board meeting. He calls the school board’s position “childish,” adding, “This isn’t a game.” In a passing shot, he dubs five board members with whom he disagrees as the “Gang of Five.”
The citizen was criticizing the board’s deference to standardized assessment tests. But for the board that day, the style of the critique overshadows the substance.
The school board’s vice president interrupts, saying, “I’m sorry, we cannot tolerate attacks on the board. Please stick to the issues and the policy.”
The citizen didn’t like school policy. The board didn’t like being criticized. At the beginning of every public-comment period at that time, in 1997, the school board admonished citizens to engage only in “civil public discourse” and declared that the board “cannot tolerate personal attacks on board members.”
Was the citizen too harsh? Or was the board too sensitive?
Karen Tracy, a professor of communication at the University of Colorado at Boulder, has studied years of debates within and about the school district. She contends that the foregoing exchange was an instance of “reasonable hostility” in a public meeting.
It is true that the citizen-critic said the board’s stance was “childish” and alluded to the infamous “Gang of Four,” which committed egregious human-rights offenses during China’s “Cultural Revolution.”
But our democracy depends on discourse, which will include such sharp exchanges, she contends. And the cost of discouraging sharp critiques exceeds the toll of enduring them.
Tracy became interested in school-board deliberations in the 1990s. At the time, a new board majority ushered in a wave of controversial policy changes. Discourse in the community was robust and sometimes acrimonious. Many observers, including the editors of the Daily Camera editorial page, argued that educational discourse suffered from “destructive divisiveness,” “open display(s) of disrespect” and even an “unpleasant tone” in board meetings.
Tracy says such sentiments reflect a “fairly idealized view of democracy,” one that emphasizes “feel-good words” like “dialogue” and “civility.” Such terms, she says, don’t reflect how people really talk with each other. With an emphasis on reason and a dismissal of emotion as legitimate in public discourse, this view fails to reflect the fact that both reason and emotion have a legitimate place in the marketplace of ideas.
Civility, she says, calls up norms of behavior in situations of inequality. “Of course, there are few situations where everybody is truly equal.”
In the context of a school board meeting, citizens’ power is unequal to that of board members. And an over-emphasis on “civility” can have a stifling effect on meaningful debate.
Talk in political contexts can and will have an emotional edge. If we try to eliminate that and focus on the goal of “civility,” Tracy says, “we would be telling people to stay away from the table and not express themselves.”
A better norm than “civility,” she argues, is “reasonable hostility.” Emotionally charged criticism of public officials “is necessary for the able functioning of democratic bodies.”
But what distinguishes “reasonable” hostility from unreasonable attacks? The answer is subjective, but it reflects legal standards based on what a “reasonable person” would believe.
The relative power of the speaker matters, for instance. A school board member who disparages a citizen’s motives might well be unreasonable, while a citizen’s criticism of the official’s leadership is more likely to be reasonable.
“Reasonable hostility” might also be distinguished by deferential or polite terms, such as, “my distinguished representative.”
Criticism that is inordinately scathing or predominantly ad hominem, on the other hand, might not be reasonable.
Tracy studied 63 school board meetings during a particularly contentious time, a 35-month period between 1996 and 1999. Her results were summarized in a paper published in the Journal of Politeness last year, and they are the basis of a forthcoming book.
Tracy argues that encouraging public participation—rather than discouraging it—is particularly important at the school-board level. “This is the only place in American society where lots of people participate in government.”
And they should participate, she adds. Public education is integral to the American dream. “It’s what can transform people. It can allow them to change social classes. Public education is one of the centerpieces of what makes us distinctive as a country.”
By Clint Talbott
A concerned parent tells the Boulder Valley School Board in May 2007 that a CU Conference on World Affairs panel held at Boulder High School was sexually explicit, offensive and inappropriate. Such contentious discussions, which might involve "reasonable hostility," are a healthy part of civic discourse, a CU professor says.
A citizen approaches the microphone during the public-comment at a Boulder Valley School Board meeting. He calls the school board’s position “childish,” adding, “This isn’t a game.” In a passing shot, he dubs five board members with whom he disagrees as the “Gang of Five.”
The citizen was criticizing the board’s deference to standardized assessment tests. But for the board that day, the style of the critique overshadows the substance.
The school board’s vice president interrupts, saying, “I’m sorry, we cannot tolerate attacks on the board. Please stick to the issues and the policy.”
The citizen didn’t like school policy. The board didn’t like being criticized. At the beginning of every public-comment period at that time, in 1997, the school board admonished citizens to engage only in “civil public discourse” and declared that the board “cannot tolerate personal attacks on board members.”
Was the citizen too harsh? Or was the board too sensitive?
Karen Tracy, a professor of communication at the University of Colorado at Boulder, has studied years of debates within and about the school district. She contends that the foregoing exchange was an instance of “reasonable hostility” in a public meeting.
It is true that the citizen-critic said the board’s stance was “childish” and alluded to the infamous “Gang of Four,” which committed egregious human-rights offenses during China’s “Cultural Revolution.”
But our democracy depends on discourse, which will include such sharp exchanges, she contends. And the cost of discouraging sharp critiques exceeds the toll of enduring them.
Tracy became interested in school-board deliberations in the 1990s. At the time, a new board majority ushered in a wave of controversial policy changes. Discourse in the community was robust and sometimes acrimonious. Many observers, including the editors of the Daily Camera editorial page, argued that educational discourse suffered from “destructive divisiveness,” “open display(s) of disrespect” and even an “unpleasant tone” in board meetings.
Tracy says such sentiments reflect a “fairly idealized view of democracy,” one that emphasizes “feel-good words” like “dialogue” and “civility.” Such terms, she says, don’t reflect how people really talk with each other. With an emphasis on reason and a dismissal of emotion as legitimate in public discourse, this view fails to reflect the fact that both reason and emotion have a legitimate place in the marketplace of ideas.
Civility, she says, calls up norms of behavior in situations of inequality. “Of course, there are few situations where everybody is truly equal.”
In the context of a school board meeting, citizens’ power is unequal to that of board members. And an over-emphasis on “civility” can have a stifling effect on meaningful debate.
Talk in political contexts can and will have an emotional edge. If we try to eliminate that and focus on the goal of “civility,” Tracy says, “we would be telling people to stay away from the table and not express themselves.”
A better norm than “civility,” she argues, is “reasonable hostility.” Emotionally charged criticism of public officials “is necessary for the able functioning of democratic bodies.”
But what distinguishes “reasonable” hostility from unreasonable attacks? The answer is subjective, but it reflects legal standards based on what a “reasonable person” would believe.
The relative power of the speaker matters, for instance. A school board member who disparages a citizen’s motives might well be unreasonable, while a citizen’s criticism of the official’s leadership is more likely to be reasonable.
“Reasonable hostility” might also be distinguished by deferential or polite terms, such as, “my distinguished representative.”
Criticism that is inordinately scathing or predominantly ad hominem, on the other hand, might not be reasonable.
Tracy studied 63 school board meetings during a particularly contentious time, a 35-month period between 1996 and 1999. Her results were summarized in a paper published in the Journal of Politeness last year, and they are the basis of a forthcoming book.
Tracy argues that encouraging public participation—rather than discouraging it—is particularly important at the school-board level. “This is the only place in American society where lots of people participate in government.”
And they should participate, she adds. Public education is integral to the American dream. “It’s what can transform people. It can allow them to change social classes. Public education is one of the centerpieces of what makes us distinctive as a country.”