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When is a question?
Stanley M. Sapon, Ph.D.
Professor Emeritus of Psycholinguistics
University of Rochester (NY)
It is no surprise that Vegans face challenges. Contrary to popular
expectations, however, finding acceptable food is only one of
them...and it is far from the greatest one.
The most serious challenge that Vegans confront has nothing to
do with eating, but with talking.
As people whose dietary behavior is noticeably different from
the mainstream, they often provoke -- without premeditated missionary
intent -- comments and invitations to dialogue from those around
them. At this point in the life of a Vegan the word "communication"
takes on a special urgency.
My trusty dictionary defines communication as "the exchange
of thoughts, messages or information." It is not easy to convey
one's ideas clearly, and the messages we send are not necessarily
the ones we want to transmit.
If "exchange" means to give and receive reciprocally,
we face a problem when one party is eager to "give,"
and the other is strongly committed to "not receiving." We may
see two people talking... one asking what appears to be a question,
and the other answering, but precious little "communication" taking
place.
The rules of grammar make it simple to identify "what
is a question." In written form, one sees the question mark, and
in spoken form, one hears the interrogative melody. The same rule
book defines a question as an expression of inquiry to elicit
information. There should be no problem in knowing when a
question has been asked. Or is there?
The truth is that the question form is a social lubricant
as often as it is a means of acquiring data. "How are you?" from
a co-worker passing you in the corridor is a friendly salutation,
not an inquiry about your health. Asked by a close friend, it
is a manifestation of concern for your well-being. Woe to the
person who answers the question that was not asked. To tell about
your aches and pains when what is required is "Fine!" makes you
look like a Martian. To give a snappy "Fine!" to one who is really
concerned about you, is to brush off genuine interest.
We reach out to strangers to make cordial contact at bus stops
with questions like "Hot enough for you?" and "Isn't that a beautiful
sunset?" We are invited to participate in other people's wonderment
when they point to a branch and ask "Did you ever see such a huge
caterpillar?" At cocktail parties people who scarcely know one
another initiate conversations with "...so how about those Rangers?"
Comments like "Do you come here often?" or "What’s your sign?"
are rarely perceived as authentic, heartfelt inquiries for data,
but without them the American tradition of the Singles' Bar would
not long survive.
Time and Place: The Setting
How do we tell the difference between social formulas, requests
for factual information and other kinds of questions? The clues
here are not verbal, but situational. How far apart are the speakers,
is there full eye-contact, is there time for more than a brief
"sound bite," do the speakers have a relationship that is more
than superficial, precisely where does the verbal interaction
take place? Is the interaction just between two speakers, or is
there an "audience" involved?
Questions: Rare, Medium & Well-Done
Where can I find tofu in this town? How many minutes should
the rice cook? How many grams of fat are there in a cup of butter?
What is the calcium content of a head of broccoli? All of
these are simple questions that request information. There
is no element of personal viewpoint or personal values to be found
in either the questions or the answers. It is when we go beyond
data-exchange questions that life gets more complicated.
After a presentation I gave at a conference, a young man from
Michigan waited to talk to me about a serious personal issue:
"I really find myself in trouble when people press me with questions
about my values and my life style. What answer can I give to somebody
who knows of my concern with animal suffering in research laboratories,
and asks me 'Do you really think the life of an animal is worth
more than the life of a human being?' What can I say to somebody
who learns that I'm a Vegan, and challenges me by asking 'What
would happen to the millions of animals who would not be
consumed if the world became Vegan?' How do I reply to someone
who asks 'Don't you care about the thousands of hardworking, God-fearing
cattle ranchers, dairy farmers and poultry producers who would
lose their livelihood if everybody gave up eating meat, cheese
and eggs? And what about their poor, innocent families?' "
His struggles to answer such questions set me to reflect on how
my own professional experience might cast some light on a problem
that Vegans so often encounter. The first thing to become clear
was that he had been deceived by a grammatical form. He had
been attempting to answer... as questions... fragments
of rhetoric that were not simple questions.
What disarmed him, and made him so vulnerable, was his inability
to determine when a question is a genuine inquiry...and when
it is not.
First of all, he failed to recognize that everything that has
the grammatical form of a question is not always a request
for information. The "questions" about animals in research and
agricultural economics were certainly not requests for factual
information that might be found in an encyclopedia. At best, they
are challenges to the validity of Vegan ethical values, and at
worst, thinly disguised attacks on Vegan life style or perspectives.
Second, he failed to realize that the person who phrases the
"question" also frames the "rules of engagement" that oblige the
respondent to accept the legitimacy of the proposition to be explored.
Just because someone asks you a "question" does not mean that
you are obliged to reply in accordance with the premises of the
"question."
Perhaps the most grievous tactical error of all derives from
honest attempts to address the issues within the framework of
a "question and answer." Categorically, it is impossible to answer
a question that is nothing more than a challenge to a verbal,
philosophical, or moral duel. The person who asks if you
value an animal's life above a human's, is not really interested
in your views. What your interrogator is seeking is an
opportunity to push you into defending an indefensible position,
and solidly confirm the correctness of his views and the
wrongness of yours. To attempt to answer the question --
as phrased-- is to acknowledge the validity of an "either-or"
choice, as well as the fallacious assumption that killing animals
saves human lives. If you fall into the trap, you will find yourself
defending positions that have no basis in reality. You will be
standing in quicksand, flailing at phantom issues, sinking deeper
by the minute. Defending is the key word here.
To be on the defensive is to start out with two strikes. Your
capacity to inform, enlighten or sensitize your interlocutor starts
low and is likely to get lower. The ideal of communication can
be seen as a set of verbal events that are followed by both
parties better understanding each other's viewpoints and values.
One who accepts a defensive posture in a dialogue starts off in
a thoroughly distorted communication process.
Answering the Real Questions
Accepting the assumptions of the challenger guarantees a losing
contest. One must find a strategy that levels the playing field,
changes the contest into a respectful setting for an honest discussion
of real issues, disarms the challenger in such a way that the
antagonism is dissipated and sets the stage for reciprocal flow
of ideas and information. That is a very tall order, but there
are some basic principles of verbal interaction that can help.
Even though the gist of the "question" is apparent after the
first few words, do not interrupt or get on with your response
until the question is complete. You need the time to formulate
a courteous and respectful acknowledgment of the genuine interests
of the questioner. The essence of the questioner's concerns must
be identified and isolated from the emotional turbulence that
typically accompanies those concerns.
If
The Question Doesn't Fit..
You are not obliged to answer the question as it is put to you.
You may more effectively answer the question you wish had
been asked. Or the question phrased the way you think it should
have been.
"If you don’t drink milk, aren’t you worried about getting
osteoporosis?" does not really address what you worry
about. It is either about what worries the questioner, or it is
a suggestion that you are not rowing with both oars in the water.
Either way, the questions you do answer are:
"What is the relationship between animal-flesh/dairy-based
diets and plant-based diets and the risks of getting osteoporosis?"
or
"Isn’t the consumption of cow’s milk a basic nutritional
need for children to develop strong bones, and adults to stay
healthy?"
This is your chance to talk about the typical protein overload
from meat and milk, how it actually heightens the risk of decalcified
bones...and how abundant is the supply of calcium in green, leafy
vegetables, tofu, sesame seeds, etc.. This is also the time to
talk about the perfect fit between the milk of every mammal and
its own offspring. This is not the time to talk about the horrors
of the veal industry and its links with the dairy industry.
"I understand your feelings about killing, but since chickens
lay eggs naturally, and cows don’t have to be killed to get their
milk, what's wrong with eggs and milk?"
The question you answer is:
"Isn’t the production of eggs and milk a nonviolent, gentle,
benign kind of activity?"
Now you can provide some information about the horrors of factory
farming and the dreadful cruelty inflicted upon "farm animals."
Precautions:
When the question relates to issues of human health, your answer
has to stick to health. Don’t complicate or confound your answer
with issues of compassion.
When the question relates to issues of compassion, stick to those
issues. Questions on this theme give you the opportunity to talk
about your feelings, about how you are moved to
compassion by all forms of cruelty. Remember: The questioner has
not given you leave to reproach her/his insensitivity or
indifference to others’ suffering.
When questions about Veganism are based on more than one theme,
it is difficult, but essential, to limit your delivery of information
to the dimensions of the question. One of the most frequent causes
of failure in communication is "information overkill."
It calls for careful, alert and well-tuned antennae to avoid telling
your questioner more than s/he cares to know about the subject.
Delivering massive doses of information may do more to discourage
further inquiry than it is to foster active search for additional
facts.
If the answer to a question has more of a "persuasive ring" to
it than an "informative flavor," the credibility of the factual
information is compromised.
There are some locations in which it is near-lethal to entertain
any kind of question about Veganism. When asked, at the dinner
table, about the reasons for his Vegan diet, my son's very wise
and courteous reply is always: "I never discuss my diet at mealtimes.
But I would be glad to explain it at length, at some other moment."
Even questions tinged with negative overtones reveal something
about the focus of interest of the questioner. If you structure
your answers in ways that avoid a confrontation, and provide gentle,
factual answers within this framework of interest, you will have
done more than just refuse to do combat; you will have left the
questioner with some simple, straightforward facts that s/he can
chew on and perhaps digest. Be wary of interpreting a congenial
reception of your answer as a "small victory on one issue,"
and attempt to press your advantage with "...and besides,..."
By going beyond that one issue you may very well make enough waves
to wash away whatever seeds of understanding you may have planted.
If a "question" can reflect some emotional turbulence on the
part of the questioner, it is reasonable to expect the respondent
to experience his/her own emotional reaction. This is where accepting
an invitation to dialogue gets difficult. Suffice it to say, even
in the face of thinly disguised attacks on Vegans and/or Veganism,
we need to avoid falling into confrontations, disputes, or anything
that looks like an "argument." We are supposed to be living proof
that Vegans are committed to nonviolence, reason, and reverence
for all life... even that of militant carnivores! I disagree strongly
with the strategy embodied in the widely distributed "Fact Sheet"
entitled "How to Win an Argument with a Meat-Eater." It is, in
fact, psychologically impossible to "win" an "argument." If it
is indeed an argument, i.e., a dispute, a strong disagreement,
a contention or the like, the facts you mobilize to overcome your
opponent's position are more likely to engender negative feelings
than enduring and happy acceptance of your ideas and perspectives.
How Hot Is the Question, and What Is the Temperature of the
Answer?
Marshall McLuhan, the Canadian scholar (The Medium Is The Massage,
1967) who brought exciting insights to the study of communication,
characterized various kinds of communication media along a continuum
from "hot" to "cool." In his analysis, communications that were
spontaneous, in which statements could be made without benefit
of reflection, rethinking and careful selection of words, and
that called for rapid, or even instantaneous responses, he called
"hot." Communications that could be polished before delivery,
and that did not (or could not) call for instant replies, he called
"cool."
Active questions and answers in the form of a lively dialogue
between two individuals, face to face, would be the "hottest,"
and written communication, with a time lag between delivery of
a message and the preparation of a reply, would be at the "coolest"
end of the temperature range.
From a simple psychological point of view, face-to-face question-and-answer
dialog can be seen as either enhanced-- or contaminated by all
the subtleties and nuances of voice quality (earnest or sarcastic),
facial expressions (smiling, neutral or grim), how swiftly or
deliberately the answers come, body posture, arm and hand gestures,
etc.. Following McLuhan's imagery, we need to monitor the temperature
of our interchanges...not so cold that nothing moves, nor so hot
that ideas evaporate.
Sometimes They Shoot the Messenger
What these observations also point to is the fact that there
are times, places, people and subject matter that call for cool
communication. This is where an offer of printed material can
be a life-saver: It is impossible to have a "hot argument" or
a "heated dispute" with a printed page. From the point of view
of the transfer of extensive factual information, nothing surpasses
a piece of printed text. It is permanent, the reader does not
have to remember the exact numbers or statistics, and it is available
for review and reconsideration at the reader's convenience. And
it is impersonal. That means that facts and feelings raised by
the writer are less likely to be interpreted as being personally
addressed to (or aimed at) the reader. Offering a little information-booklet
to insistent inquirers is respectful of their interest, courteous,
and may make the next interaction safer for talking.
There is much to be said for not vocally presenting troubling
messages or painful graphic images. I do not enjoy being the speaker
who gives the bloody details of what happens in the slaughterhouse
or what happens to male calves or chicks. Making my point also
makes me the unpleasant bearer of perturbing information.
I am happier being the person who reports ... "in vivid color
and graphic detail"... on the delights of a compassionate Vegan
lifestyle, and the broad range of satisfactions it provides.
What Fits in a Nutshell Is for the Birds
The most hazardous questions of all to answer are those that
bear the marks of genuine, innocent and sincere requests for global
information. What makes them so hazardous is that they seem so
disarmingly simple. With no clearly defined limits of either theme
or length, they invite you to attempt a One Sentence Capsule that
contains all of the insights, experiences, understanding and perspectives
that led you to make major changes in your life. For example,
"So, in a nutshell, what made you decide to become a Vegan?"
Beware of all questions that begin with "So, ..." The
questioner is signaling a lack of time or interest for listening
to all the antecedent details; s/he is in a hurry for you to cut
to the Bottom Line, the Final Summation, the Simple Solution,
without bothering with nuances, values and feelings. The message
is "Don't burden me with what may have cost you many hours of
intellectual and spiritual effort.".
More than one organization has succumbed to the pressure to define
"Veganism in a Nutshell." The outcome is typically a
destructive oversimplification cast in negative terms that reduces
a broad, life-enriching philosophy to "a diet." e.g.
"Vegans are vegetarians who do not consume dairy products
or eggs."
Truly, the only thing that fits properly in a nutshell is a nut.
The Last Word
The model of Questions and Answers as a teaching instrument has
been abundantly utilized, and the power of the paradigm has been
acknowledged for centuries in the context of spiritual instruction,
whether it appears as Catechism or Talmudic exploration.
Probably the last word in "hard questions" and "soft answers"
is found in antiquity. The Talmud tells of two distinguished sages
who dealt in different ways with a formidable question. An irreverent
scoffer asked Rabbi Shammai if he could teach him all there was
to know about the Torah while he stood on one foot. Rabbi Shammai,
understandably annoyed, brusquely dismissed the impudent questioner.
But Rabbi Hillel, a man of greater patience, accepted the question,
and created an answer for all time. "There is just one message
in the Torah," he replied: "That which causes suffering to you,
do not do unto others. The rest is commentary. Now go and study."
When people ask us to tell them all there is to know about the
essence of Veganism while standing on one foot, Hillel's reply
can still serve as a gentle, respectful, beginning of our answer.
Then we can invite our impatient questioners to study.
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