Coincidentally, I recently ran across Cardinal Newman’s description of a gentleman from "The Idea of A University," which reads in part:
“He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp sayings for arguments, or insinuates evil which he dare not say out.”
The more we are convinced of the truth of what we believe, the calmer we ought to be. Newman continues, “We should ever conduct ourselves towards our enemy as if he were one day to be our friend.”
There's a lot more. What interests me is that the gentleman doesn’t have these qualities simply because they're beautiful. They are essential to the pursuit of truth:
“…his disciplined intellect preserves him from the blundering discourtesy of better, perhaps, but less educated minds; who, like blunt weapons, tear and hack instead of cutting clean, who mistake the point in argument, waste their time on trifles, misconceive their adversary, and leave the question more involved than they find it.”
As the pope indicates in that one introductory line, it is not possible to arrive at truth without thinking well of my opponent. My first intellectual effort must be to understand him as he understands himself: his aims, his premises, what is important to him. Only then can I either see the validity of his argument or begin to persuade him of my point.
Civility, then, is not merely courtesy, a spoonful of sugar to make hard medicine go down. It is an essential element of reason. You can’t be wise without it.