Criticism & Hope
I know I’m not the only one feeling this particular grief right now. The soul-deep sadness of knowing that someone who I’ve always seen as a light in my world, is participating in the occupation of parliament grounds and surrounds, in Wellington. I reached out, and said how disturbed and disappointed I was by her association with the protest given the involvement of alt-right and white supremacist groups. I said it’s important to look to who you’re standing with. She said all she could see was love and light, and we would have to agree to disagree.
There have been some excellent investigations into and examinations of the new age to alt-right pipeline over the last couple of years, outlining the ways that spirituality and wellness communities have been infiltrated by the alt-right. Others have talked about the ways that the ‘manifesting your destiny’ aspects of Positive Thinking, and contemporary spirituality support this relationship. I want to address the avoidance of negativity, the agree to disagree, and how this cannot truly achieve positive change. Creating change requires criticism - of what is, of what change is planned, and of how that change is planned to be carried out. I want to talk about how criticism is a good thing, not a negative one, how criticism done well is creative not destructive.
Some years back, I was a member of a few different business networking groups. These are the ones where you meet for breakfast to share about your business and then go away to recommend each other (which is honestly more than a bit awkward, there’s just not that many natural opportunities to recommend an accountant or life coach or signwriter to one’s friends). Women’s business networking in particular has many life coaches, especially those who subscribe to The Secret and the power of positive thought to manifest our destiny. Barbara Ehernreich’s Smile or Die is an excellent examination of the history of positive thinking, the ways it is fundamentally problematic, and its role in the Global Financial Crisis. What struck me though, as a design teacher listening to its proponents in my networking groups, is the insistence on eschewing negativity; don’t read the news, don’t follow politics, don’t let yourself think about bad things or how something might go wrong, or you’ll manifest that. Well, I said, surely we want engineers to consider the worst case scenarios when designing bridges, you know, so they don’t fall down?
At one of those networking meetings, I cited a favourite quote from Daniel Libeskind: “[architecture] is that complete ecstasy that the future can be better.” Afterward, the resident life coach and purveyor of positive thinking, came up to tell me that it was a great quote, but would be even better if the can was changed to will. To her this was a more positive, more optimistic phrasing. To me, she had missed the point entirely. If the future will be better then nobody needs to do anything. If it can be better, that presumes, even requires, action on our part. The future could carry on as things are, or get worse, or if we do something then “the future can be better”. We can change the future, we can make things better, with intentional design and action. But we can’t design a better world without acknowledging not only what is wrong with the present one, but also what could go wrong, what paths we don’t want to go down in trying to achieve that better world.
Criticism - or critique - is a fundamental part of design. There are many different approaches to the design process, but they all involve critique, and critique is a key part of teaching and learning in architecture schools. I like this simple introduction to critique by Mitch Goldstein, from Rochester Institute of Technology in Upstate New York: https://howtocrit.com. The key takeaway is that critique isn’t personal, and it’s not trying to destroy the work or argument presented, it’s trying to make it better by pulling on the loose threads and probing the weak points.
We use critique as a way to analyse our proposals, to test them before they’re built, if you will. To look for the contradictory, the unnecessary, and the missing. To suggest alternative ideas and explore the different solutions those might offer. Critique is a tool to examine our plans and ideas, and to find ways to make them better. Critique applied to existing conditions or completed work is a tool to help us learn from the mistakes that have been made before.
To me it is an act of love and respect to question and critique. But to many people, especially within the wellness, spirituality, and positivity communities, part of being kind and loving each other is being uncritical, respecting other people’s differences of opinion, and - as my friend said - agreeing to disagree. I think of agreeing to disagree as a gulf, an unspoken, unexamined, hole between us. Critique is a means to build a bridge over that gulf. Critique is not a negative act, it is not oppositional nor simply a means to prove each other wrong. It might help to think of critique in terms of an inquiry.
When our students present their work, they set out their interpretation of the brief they were given, alongside the additional concerns and ideas they bring to it, and finally they explain how their work answers that brief. As critics we look for the inconsistencies and the missing pieces, seeking clarification. This often leads to the students reassessing their work, and making small or substantial changes - sometimes a refinement, sometimes a whole reworking, in order to ensure that their design is a coherent and effective answer to the question(s) of the brief.
How can we bring this process to conversations with our friends and coworkers in an age of misinformation and radicalisation? Obviously, they have to be willing to enter into it, it’s extremely difficult to effectively critique someone uninterested in the process (I’ve had students like that, and it’s very hard to not just tell them they’re wrong). It’s also better face to face, video call if you can’t meet in real life. Written exchanges on social media or via email will only work once the process, and the trust associated with it, is established.
So, assuming that they are happy to talk:
Start by asking them what kind of world they want to see, what future they are hoping we can collectively build.
Gently interrogate that: what is it that appeals about various aspects of their vision of the future?
Ask them what risks they think might be ahead, what problems they might have to address?
If they are unwilling to talk about negative things like problems, ask them why not and how they plan to avoid problems or wrong paths, if they don’t know what those might look like.
Ask how they plan to achieve the future that they describe at the beginning, and who they think are the types of people they can and should work with to achieve it.
Now we get to the core of the critique: Look for the inconsistencies, the way that an aspect of their plan might be (to us) contradictory to their stated goal, and seek clarification. Look for the loose threads and give a gentle tug, and then let them, in responding, do the unravelling. Offer alternatives, and ask what they think about those. Ask them who they believe this will benefit, and who they think it might hurt.
At this stage we can also ask how they think their current actions, and the other politics and beliefs of some of the groups they are affiliating with, will achieve the world they want to create.
Some points to note:
It can be really hard to not get emotional, and I do believe there is a place for showing emotion - if they care about you, they will respond to your distress. Anger can be framed as “I’m feeling very hurt by this and it is very difficult for me to deal with, I hope you can understand?”
Confrontation will make them dig their heels in - and there’s a fair bit of psychology research into the ways that challenge and confrontation push people further to an extreme position as they seek to defend their views. What’s important here is that we’re reaching out, not building a raised platform and then demanding they climb on it.
Effective critique requires patience and is about gaining better understanding, not proving the other person wrong (though they might get there themselves, and in this case, let’s be honest, we hope so). Engage with the ideas they are sharing, allow them to explain themselves.
Know what you know, and what you don’t. It is still possible to critique something you don’t know a lot about (I critique my mother’s poetry, at her request) but only with humility, know your own limitations.
Critique is a skill in itself, and takes time and practice to learn. Have patience with yourself, as well as your friend. The best critic is someone who has experienced critique, so open yourself up to critique, as well.
It can be tempting to decide that someone who, blithely oblivious, is standing alongside white-supremacists, anti-semites, and proto-fascists, is too far gone. For some, that might be true. For many, they’re being hoodwinked and used, and if we care about them (and we have the spoons) I believe we should reach out in whatever ways we can. But I don’t believe in agreeing to disagree; that’s fine for ice cream or pizza preferences, it’s not ok when ideas and actions can hurt people.
Agreeing to disagree creates a void, a hole in which it can become impossible to act if that act may be seen to be oppositional. Criticism is an act of love, and a means to create not destroy. Sometimes something entirely new and unexpected can come out of this process of enquiry; and sometimes we realise just how far apart our goals really are. Criticism brings clarity and the potential for change; there’s hope in that.
Jessamine Fraser, BArch (Hons), ANZIA, is a NZ Registered Architect and the director of Rain Studio Architects. She is also a design tutor at Unitec School of Architecture, and a former local body candidate for the Green Party in the Whau Ward in Auckland.