Trigger warnings have spread to the world of intercollegiate debate. The issue arose during a debate last fall between teams from Columbia University and New York University. In parliamentary debate style, because the two-person Columbia team chose to argue in favor of legalizing physician-assisted suicide, the NYU team had to argue against it. Columbia won. Afterward an NYU debater filed an “equity complaint” against the Columbia team, saying it had failed to issue a trigger warning on what was for her a highly disturbing topic. She said she should have been allowed to debate another topic.
Both students in this disagreement say trigger warnings have become fairly common in college debates sponsored by the American Parliamentary Debate Association. A Facebook page for the association’s Equal Opportunity Facilitators Program, whose goal is that debates take place in a fair and respectful environment, provides “A Short Guide to Trigger Warnings: Suggestions and Advice for Debating Sensitive Topics.”
Vegas Longlois, a Harvard senior who is head of the facilitators committee, provided a statement from the panel that said it “strongly recommends that all debaters use trigger warnings.” The statement also said: “We want to cultivate an atmosphere where a variety of topics are discussed and do not want to hinder conversation. However, we want everyone to be able to fully participate in that dialogue and believe trigger warnings further this mission.”
Debaters who did not use trigger warnings would not be penalized, the statement said, but would be asked to discuss whether the debate would have benefited from using them.
The Columbia student said he had been advised to use trigger warnings in the future, but his team’s victory was allowed to stand. In the following opinion essays — a post-debate debate? — the Columbia student and the NYU student explain their differing views.
My Rights vs. Your Trigger Warning
By Daniel Charnis
“This house would legalize physician-assisted suicide.”
That was the topic my partner and I, student debaters from Columbia University, chose for an intercollegiate debate last fall.
Our two opponents, from New York University, flashed smiles at each other as soon as they heard the topic. After a few clarifying questions, they seemed ready to debate, and I expected a great round. We argued that because individuals have a right to life, they also have a right to surrender life, since the difference between rights and obligations is that rights can be forfeited. We added that individuals have rights insofar as those rights do not infringe upon the rights of others, and that suicide is a legitimate option to maximize utility for those who chronically experience negative utility. Our opponents made fair and intelligent rebuttals, and all four of us ended up having what I thought was a very intellectually stimulating discussion about the right to suicide. The judge found Columbia’s arguments more convincing, and we won the debate.
A few hours later, a Columbia teammate informed me that “equity violations” had been filed against my partner and me. Our opponents claimed that, because of the nature of the topic, we needed to have provided a trigger warning and an option to debate a different topic. They said they were unable to debate to their full potential because one of them had emotional issues relating to the topic of suicide.
Their argument was bizarre to me. Both my partner and I took part in debates at the high-school level, where trigger warnings were not given, and where physician-assisted suicide was, in fact, a topic of debate.
In college debate, which, unlike high-school debate, is mostly student-run, it is a common practice to give trigger warnings before discussing “sensitive” topics, and if a debater requests it, the topic must be changed. In addition, each tournament designates an “equity officer,” who is also a student debater, to ensure that all debaters are given equal opportunity to compete. For the most part, equity officers have made the parliamentary-debate circuit a much more welcoming place. They can issue an equity violation if they determine that an unfair action has taken place. That can include gender discrimination, physical assault, and disrespectful language — all of which definitely deserve punishment. But in this case, it also included debating an uncomfortable topic.
The option to change a debate topic restricts an activity that is meant to celebrate speech and discourse. While it’s one thing to be respectful and politically correct in argumentation (which I full-heartedly support), completely skipping a contentious topic seems antithetical to the fundamental purpose of debate. I find it very strange that as high schoolers, we didn’t need any sort of “protection” against sensitive debate topics, but as college debaters, we suddenly do.
Ultimately, the equity violation didn’t have any major consequences, because it was a first-time offense. We were allowed to keep our win and were let off with a warning to provide trigger warnings in the future.
But I see several problems with the practice of providing trigger warnings with an option to change topics in college debate.
First, changing a topic to suit an individual’s preference goes against the spirit of the activity. When I chose to come to a debate tournament, I tacitly agreed to debate any sort of topic, regardless of my personal preference. Introducing boundaries (that are personally decided) on what can or can’t be discussed isn’t what debate is about.
Second, deciding which topics require trigger warnings and which ones don’t is muddy at best. While suicide may have been a sensitive issue for my opponents, how do we know if it is sufficiently universally sensitive that any discussion of it automatically requires a trigger warning? Even if we do somehow agree on a set of topics that merit trigger warnings, that decision would still marginalize certain students who have experiences that, while traumatizing, wouldn’t keep them from discussing them. Rather than try to delineate topics that can be avoided, we should embrace all topics and normalize the discussion of issues that may be sensitive, albeit with respectful rhetoric.
Third, and perhaps most important, avoiding topics on the debate circuit in the short term only harms individuals in the long term. During my (brief) experience on the college-debate circuit, I have found almost all debaters to be welcoming and respectful. The debate environment provides a rare space to discuss emotional issues. When I explained those ideas to the equity officer, I was told that debaters who are badly traumatized by a particular event cannot rationally engage with the topic in a debate. However, such students won’t be able to avoid distressing topics forever. Ignoring an emotional problem is not rehabilitative in any sense, and I think debate can be a great avenue for discussing topics.
Avoiding debate topics prevents all debaters from being intellectually challenged in that subject area. When those who find a particular topic distressing must navigate a larger world without trigger warnings, they will be underprepared to discuss those issues.
If it helps debaters who have experienced traumatic events to cope, I would theoretically support giving a trigger warning before discussing a potentially triggering idea. That would give someone an extra moment to prepare mentally. But I do not think any student debate team should have the right to bypass a particular topic, even if they find it “triggering.”
Should my partner and I have given a trigger warning before the debate?
Maybe.
Should the discussion of physician-assisted suicide have happened anyway?
Definitely.
Daniel Charnis is a freshman majoring in computer science-mathematics at Columbia University.
In Favor of Trigger Warnings in College Debate
By Leah Block
A trigger warning is a simple tool used to prevent traumatic memories from resurfacing. Within the American Parliamentary Debate Association, trigger warnings have become a popular way to preface a debate topic that could involve emotionally disturbing content. While some people might wonder why such warnings are needed in student debate, I believe they are appropriate and important, as I experienced firsthand during a debate round in which the topic was whether physician-assisted suicide should be legal.
Think of a trigger warning as similar to a movie rating: It’s a way for debaters to gauge the appropriateness of a topic for its audience. Yet while partial nudity may warrant a PG-13 rating, trigger warnings are more specific. For instance, if a debate topic involves more than a passing mention of rape, the trigger warning would be for rape and sexual assault. Thus the trigger warning for a debate about legalizing physician-assisted suicide — not just for the terminally ill but also for those who suffer from mental illnesses like depression or anxiety — would be for suicide.
Ideally, the debate team that chooses the topic would provide a trigger warning before the debate starts, when the opponents and judge are present. The proposing team would speak with each debater alone and ask if he or she were comfortable debating the topic. It is generally accepted that topics such as death, assault, and mental illness should have trigger warnings. While it’s impossible to predict every possible trigger, one must use one’s judgment to determine if a topic could be emotionally traumatic. If either of the opponents, or the judge, were uncomfortable for any reason, the debater would be encouraged to choose a different topic.
One thing people need to know about trigger warnings is that they aren’t used to avoid sadness, anger, or frustration. A trigger is a term specifically used to describe an onslaught of anxiety symptoms. Just as pollen can trigger allergies, graphic speech about suicide can trigger anxiety, depression, or suicidal thoughts — real symptoms of real illnesses. A debater wouldn’t punch a broken arm, and the mental or emotional equivalent should not be treated differently.
The worst part about discussing a triggering topic isn’t the content itself — it’s the cavalier attitude with which some people who have never dealt with trauma discuss it. So this past fall, when the two members of a Columbia University debate team announced that they would argue in favor of physician-assisted suicide — meaning that my team would argue against it — I had to deal with two levels of pain. I had to relive my own struggle with suicidal thoughts, and I had to suffer the discomfort of hearing other people explain away my problems as if they had authority over my emotions.
It felt as if my opponent were playing puppet master, pulling my emotions like strings. But there was another, deeper problem with this particular debate: My opponents attempted to dissect a concept they did not understand, while I knew mental illness and its consequences intimately. In the context of a debate, when one team argues in favor of an issue and the other must oppose it, they could not ask for my opinion as someone with experiential knowledge. They had to immediately assume that I was wrong and try to convince the judge. I found myself reliving my experiences with suicidal thoughts, being told what to think and how to feel. And when I gave my own opinion, I was told I was wrong.
In many debates, this is appropriate behavior. When I argue about drone strikes or feminist theory, I expect to be told I’m wrong, and it’s my job to prepare a counterattack. But when the topic is so personal, it is difficult to debate clearly or objectively. Thus I found myself shaking, my brain fogging, my vision blurring — all signs of an anxiety attack — but I had to pretend nothing was wrong so I could present my arguments.
It is unnecessary to put people in this position when it not only interferes with their comfort or triggers anxiety symptoms but also affects their competitive chances. The purpose of debate is to stretch one’s mind intellectually to reach logical conclusions quickly and effectively, and being triggered impedes debaters from doing this. A trigger warning allows them to know what’s coming so they can prepare themselves. But debaters should be able to opt out of a topic that would impede their ability to debate.
Emotional prep time would have helped me in the debate against Columbia. I was unprepared for the topic, and my shock prevented me from thinking clearly. That’s why I didn’t ask the debater to stop the case. If the team had given a trigger warning beforehand, I would have chosen not to debate the topic.
On top of that, I had internalized that having a mental illness was embarrassing and stigmatizing. Those who struggle with symptoms feel they must keep it to themselves. I had not told my partner, who is a close friend, about my experience with depression and suicide before this tournament. Nor had I ever come across triggering language in a debate round before. So when I heard the presented topic, I tried to treat it objectively. But when the Columbia debater said that people with depression had negative utility and therefore had reason to kill themselves — essentially meaning that people with mental illnesses are unproductive and therefore have no reason to live — I was hit with a wave of nausea.
That is why I filed an equity complaint after the debate with the tournament’s equity officer, whose job is to make sure that everyone is treated fairly. When she asked me what I wanted to do, I was initially torn. Truthfully, I was angry that I’d lost a round because of forces outside of my control, and I wanted the equity officer to award my team the win (though I never said so out loud). But my complaint was about more than that: I wanted to help prevent others from being triggered during a debate. Debaters’ mental health is more important than competitive success. The equity officer said she would talk to Columbia’s team president about using trigger warnings in the future, and I agreed.
College students — including those on the debate circuit — don’t give up their weekends to relive the lowest, most painful moments of their lives. And that is the crux of this debate over trigger warnings: Why would anyone want to pollute an extracurricular activity with trauma? By failing to use a trigger warning, you ruin a person’s experience, chance at competitive success, and mental well-being. And what are the negative consequences of using a trigger warning? I have yet to discover any, but I invite the Columbia debater to tell me.
Leah Block is a sophomore majoring in English at New York University.
