The notion that conversation is a dying art has become a popular topic of discussion. Typically, this claim is made by older generations against the younger ones. According to this view, our predecessors used to engage in lively discussions in old-fashioned drawing rooms, where they developed groundbreaking concepts like human rights, constitutional government, and modern art. On the other hand, today’s youth is accused of being unable to hold a conversation, as we are easily consumed by our phones and avoid face-to-face interactions. When we do manage to engage in conversation, we often resort to regurgitating political clichés or desperately trying to summarize a TV show we vaguely remember. This has led to the emergence of card games that feature conversation prompts, serving as training wheels for basic human interaction skills. Perhaps, services like ChatGPT will come to our rescue by crafting conversations on our behalf, with remarks that may not be more clichéd than what we say ourselves.
But is this perception of declining discourse accurate? Complaints about the decline of conversation have existed throughout history, extending far beyond concerns about the influence of technology or the comfort of echo chambers. Furthermore, criticisms of empty talk have been traditionally directed at women and the young but can also be applicable to those in positions of power. For instance, the satirist Jonathan Swift criticized the superficiality of upper-class banter in his 1738 treatise, “A Complete Collection of Genteel and Ingenious Conversation”. Swift’s protagonist aims to remedy the decline of conversation by presenting eloquent questions, answers, repartees, replies, and rejoinders. The use of conversation cards is not a modern phenomenon either. In the 18th century, hosts at dinner parties would enliven discussions by using cards featuring aphorisms as surefire conversation starters. The golden age of conversation was also marked by anxiety about its quality.
In “Talking Cure: An Essay on the Civilizing Power of Conversation,” Paula Marantz Cohen adds another entry to this genre of commentary. Cohen argues that delightful conversation relies on mutual vulnerability and a willingness to engage in unhurried verbal improvisation. Like many similar books, “Talking Cure” is steeped in nostalgia for a supposed golden age of conversation. Cohen, an English professor at Drexel University, looks to literary history for idealized models of conversation. She listens at the doors of the French Enlightenment salons, imagines Samuel Johnson’s resounding voice in 18th-century London taverns, and eavesdrops on the sexually candid discussions of Virginia Woolf’s Bloomsbury Group.
Throughout her exploration, Cohen delves into what distinguishes lively exchanges of ideas from dull recitations of memorized positions or awkward failures. She identifies familiar obstacles to meaningful discourse such as groupthink, misinformation, and excessive drinking on campuses. In an age of “rampant incivility,” where civilization is supposedly at stake, she joins others in critiquing these impediments to conversation. However, Cohen demonstrates that these very obstacles that make us anxious about engaging with others can also make conversation thrilling. Conversation involves risk-taking; it reveals our character, intellect, and wit, or lack thereof. It also exposes us to different perspectives, allowing our sensibilities to clash or align in pleasurable or abrasive ways. Cohen argues that successful dialogue transforms these differences in temperament, attitude, and experience into sources of shared gratification.
There is no single definition of a good conversation as it can take many forms. Michel de Montaigne likened conversation to a sparring match, full of intellectual jabs and parries. However, Cohen emphasizes the importance of a gentler sense of equality among participants, nurtured through mutual openness and vulnerability. Setting the right atmosphere is also crucial. A comfortable environment, good food, and drinks create the perfect conditions for personalities to mingle and create magical conversations, enriching each other’s ideas like ingredients in a recipe. Cohen believes that conversation is not about winning or losing but about connection and expansion. It is a form of open-ended play that satisfies our social and intellectual needs.
Cohen identifies groupthink as a major threat to conversation, leading to what she calls “grouptalk,” where dissenting opinions are discouraged. In such an environment that fosters conformity, people often resort to banal or pious statements instead of engaging in free-flowing conversations. Although Cohen finds this recycled discourse monotonous and stifling, her critique is not groundbreaking. She mourns the state of factions and tribes in our nation without exploring whether some factions may be more detached from the truth than others. However, unlike those who prioritize persuasive arguments, Cohen emphasizes the intrinsic value of conversation as an end in itself. She sees pleasure as the chief reward of fluent verbal exchanges.
However, this doesn’t mean that Cohen underestimates conversation’s role in acquiring knowledge. She lauds Plato’s dialogues, where truth is pursued through precise question-asking, as a vital template for conversation. Furthermore, she advocates for more seminar-style discussions in STEM fields to make these disciplines more engaging for a broader range of students. The habits of active listening and imaginative exploration of ideas, fostered in college seminars, prepare us to view casual exchanges as opportunities for learning. Yet, pleasure remains a priority, and Cohen acknowledges that conversation encompasses more than intellectual discussion. Her exploration of literary salons and other glamorous conversational settings highlights the importance of gossip, banter, and flirtation as alternative modes of verbal interaction, running parallel to philosophical debates. In the most sparkling conversations, knowledge and delight go hand in hand.
Whether meandering or focused, conversation is essentially a fleeting activity. As Virginia Woolf once remarked, it vanishes like a wisp of smoke up a chimney. Cohen argues that the best conversations embrace this ephemeral quality, and recognizing the transience of talk can deepen our exchanges. It is precisely the non-utilitarian and leisurely nature of conversation that makes it a highly valuable and humanizing activity. Conversations frequently yield no tangible outcomes, but they allow us to connect with others and be subtly transformed by their perspectives.
Conversation is often seen as an art form, with its musical rhythms, creative play, and the ingenuity required to evoke vivid imagery and ideas in the minds of others. Nevertheless, it is also a craft. In the most profound conversations, we carefully lay down words like building bricks, constructing elaborate structures. These structures exist momentarily, supported by the pressure of our attention and imagination. However, a simple interruption such as a buzzing phone or blaring sirens can dismantle our dreamlike palaces in an instant, reducing them to mere vapor. Nonetheless, we shouldn’t discount our efforts because, despite their fleeting nature, we did build something meaningful.
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