‘ve been thinking about a dying art in political, theological, and
educational circles. It’s the ability to say "touche," the essential
skill of conceding a point.
In fencing, "touche" literally means "touch," used when the swordsman
scores a point without actually injuring his opponent. In verbal
fencing–debate of any form," we say "touche" when we concede a point
to our opponent. I suspect that for some of us, it’s been far too long
since we could utter that important word.
I think the humility to say "touche" is, at its heart, very much a
character issue. For touche requires a choice to set aside
defensiveness, to de-escalate tension, and to unplug from a spiralling
tit-for-tat.
On
the one side, it means, "I’ve got you, but I will not run you through"
(e.g. by humiliating you). On the other, it means, "I hear you. Even
when we disagree, your voice is being heard." Too often, at precisely
the moment we should be saying, "touche," pride causes us to start
swinging the sword in desparation. At that point, we abandon wisdom,
which pursues the truth, and opt instead to attack, demanding to be
right in our own eyes.
Remarkably, saying "touche" can empower the other to do the same, and
my enemy can become my beloved rival instead. Less heat and more light
comes to the debate, and it may even been that in Hegelian fashion,
"touche" launches us beyond thesis-antithesis into synthesis. It opens
the door for an "aha" moment together.
As a Canadian, I believe this is a strength that we have to offer
others if we don’t lose it ourselves. It’s what enables us to sit in
the other’s seat and hear ourselves through their ears. I’m not seeing
much of that in our election campaigns. Perhaps even less in our
theological debates. But I intend to teach it to my children. I think
I’ll start tonight at supper.