The Erosion of Discourse
I just returned from a trip to New Orleans. Airports provide an excellent opportunity for people-watching. I noticed that many people (2 or 3 out of 5?) were carrying their cell phone in their hand, many scrolling as they walked. It seems as if our attention spans increasingly resemble that of a goldfish — short and easily diverted. There were some people engaging in conversation, but a great many people traveling in pairs and in small groups were, for the most part, staring into screens. I even saw a child, around 3 or 4 years old and in a stroller, swiping an electronic screen. This digital deluge has hijacked our focus. We’re becoming separated from one another and it may be bringing about a societal crisis. I contend that it’s eroding the very foundations of civil discourse that once defined our republic.
From the town halls of our Founding Fathers to the family dinner tables of mid-20th-century America, meaningful conversation was the lifeblood of community and self-governance. When we engage in conversations we become practiced at expressing ourselves. People used to be able to state a premise, defend it with some supporting facts, and draw a conclusion. People, especially leftists, seem increasingly unable to do that. Instead, they spout bumper-sticker slogans at us. It’s becoming increasingly difficult, unpleasant, and often impossible to discuss meaningful subjects with people who hold opposing views.
Electronic media has supplanted genuine interaction with fleeting dopamine hits, fostering superficiality, polarization, and profound loneliness. Conservatives cherish tradition, family, and ordered liberty and as such, we must confront this decay and reclaim the art of debate before it leaves us a nation of isolated spectators. Platforms like TikTok and Instagram, designed by algorithms to maximize engagement, serve up bite-sized content that rewards skimming over savoring. Video games, once innocent pastimes, now immerse players in virtual worlds for hours, training the brain to crave instant gratification rather than sustained effort. Studies from conservative think tanks like the Heritage Foundation echo what common sense tells us: this isn’t harmless entertainment. It’s rewiring minds, diminishing our capacity for deep reading, thoughtful reflection, or even polite chit-chat. Where once a family might gather around a dinner table and discuss the events of the day, or groups of friends may debate a story over coffee, we now see people isolated in silos of personalized feeds.
This short attention span manifests in public life as well — congressional hearings devolve into soundbites, and voters tune out policy wonks for viral memes. The result? A citizenry ill-equipped for the rigors of self-rule, echoing Alexis de Tocqueville’s warning that democracy thrives on informed citizens, not distracted consumers. Compounding this is the outright decline in conversation itself, a casualty of our gadget-glued existence.
Ideally, dialogue is sacred. It’s how husbands and wives resolve differences, how neighbors build trust, and how patriots forge compromises. Yet now, texting and emojis have replaced face-to-face exchanges. Why risk vulnerability in an actual conversation when a thumbs-up suffices? This extends to debate, the cornerstone of intellectual freedom. Our forefathers modeled civil disagreement as a path to truth. THE truth, not “my truth”.
Today, however, the art of arguing well is lost. Schools prioritize “safe spaces” over Socratic seminars. Parents, overwhelmed by dual careers, may rely on digital babysitters over spirited exchange. The result is a generation that avoids conflict, mistaking discomfort for danger and postponing disagreements until the pressure builds to explosive levels. This is a failure of character formation. Without debate, we forfeit the moral muscle needed to defend principles like limited government or the sanctity of life.
Polarization has turned discussions into minefields. I work with quite a few Leftists. Their political conversations consist of complaints about Republicans, but they never mention any goals of the Democrat party, nor any of their scandals. They complain about deportations, but never mention the 250,000 children who went missing under Resident (not a typo) Biden. They’re very upset about President Trump welcoming white farmers from South Africa who faced genocide. Apparently that’s further evidence that he’s a racist, since he’s deporting Tren de Aragua and MS-13 gang members.
At one time, Democrats and Republicans golfed together. Now, when a casual chat about taxes veers into ideology, it erupts into accusations of bigotry or socialism, prompting retreat to safer ground: the latest NFL scandal or Marvel blockbuster. Sports and entertainment are enjoyable in moderation, but they’ve become escapist refuges, not communal bonds.
This superficiality is corrosive. As G.K. Chesterton quipped, “There are no boring subjects — only bored minds.” Yet we now settle for the trivial because conversations on deeper topics in mixed company are becoming impossible. It used to be racist to judge people by their skin color, now it’s racist to judge people by merit. Leftists and conservatives can no longer even agree on what is good and what is evil. In a morally relativistic society, words lose their meaning. We need a shared vocabulary if we are to exist as a coherent nation. In a republic of laws, we cannot govern if we cannot converse.
The Surgeon General’s 2023 advisory declared loneliness a public health crisis, rivaling smoking in lethality. This should alarm everyone who views family and fellowship as bulwarks against despair. Conservatives have long warned that unchecked technology severs the ties that bind: the church potluck, the VFW hall, the backyard barbecue. Our conversations are being reduced to likes and shares, and genuine connection withers. Rates of depression and suicide climb, particularly among men who crave purpose through brotherhood — a purpose digital avatars cannot provide.
Women, too, suffer as motherhood’s joys are overshadowed by influencer envy. AT Editor Andrea Widburg recently posted an excellent essay on this topic. This isolation breeds vulnerability to radicalism, as lonely souls seek belonging in extremes. It’s a perversion of the American dream, where rugged individualism devolves into atomized anomie. We must revive the habits of hearth and home, unplug for family devotions, and mentor our youth in the lost art of conversation. Parents must reclaim the dinner table and citizens, the public square. In reclaiming discourse, we reclaim our souls, and our republic.
Edmund Burke reminds us that society is a partnership in all science, a partnership not only between those alive but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those yet unborn. Let us not bequeath them silence.

Image generated by ChatGPT.




