Assuming the role of Emily Post for campus discourse, Evan P. Cucci advanced his view of what constitutes responsible intellectual discussion in a recent editorial. He was joined in his critique by Miss Manners for the campus press, Tehshik P. Yoon, in an editorial one month later. Yoon argued that the intellectual level of campus debate has sunk to the level of Beavis-and-Butthead ridicule.

I will respond to their arguments in an intelligent and deathly serious manner. Given that this is not the way I normally work as an editorialist, dear reader, I hope you will appreciate my sacrifice.

Before proceeding, I would like to put my remarks in context. My differences with Cucci and Yoon represent legitimate differences in our conceptions of what campus opinion writing should be.

As mere college students, the serious points we have to make on philosophical issues and policy issues are really unimportant in the overall scheme of things. If I want to read a sophisticated, well-reasoned opinion on U.S. policy towards China, I will turn to the Op-Ed page of the New York Times--not to The Crimson or any campus journal of opinion.

What this means is that there is little incentive to read campus opinion about national or world events. If you want real analysis, turn to the Times or The New Republic. For college students to assume that they have something valuable to say about something as complex as health care financing is incredibly pretentious.

I read reason: for students' views on Harvard issues (since these aren't covered extensively in the outside press), and for entertainment purposes. These are also the goals I keep in mind when I write. I want students to actually read my editorials--no small feat for campus editorialists. I also want my readers to be entertained, provoked, or both.

In his editorial, Cucci calls on opinion-makers to "make points and counter-points based on reason," to discuss what is being said--rather than to attack who happens to be saying it. "[I]nsult and accusations usually do not really advance one's position. Instead, such hostility alienates friends and foes alike," Cucci writes.

It is difficult to accept an exhortation to "pass up the opportunity to offend" from the author of "Developing the Student Body." This editorial about physical education began with this ever-so tactful line: "There are too many fat students at Harvard." It is difficult to think of a better example of a line designed to incite or upset the students body. Clearly Cucci does not live up to his own code.

Perhaps this is a good thing, because Cucci's set of rules ignores several basic facts. First, ad hominem attacks have been, and always will be, a part of human discourse. Cucci's idealistic vision of a community of scholars who make amazing arguments based on reason and never let personality come between them is nothing more than an impossible dream. We could turn Cucci's argument into a very good Beatles song, however; "Imagine all the students/Talking about issues in peace, woo hoo..."

Furthermore, sometimes it is crucial for us to know who is articulating a given opinion. Certainly it is true that rational arguments are rational arguments, and who is saying a given argument shouldn't detract from or add to its validity. But the context out of which an opinion emerges is an important factor in determining whether the rational part of the argument is the result of a careful thought process or nothing more than ex post facto justification for personal prejudices.

For example, take affirmative action. There are many rational arguments against it; those arguments are rational no matter who says them. But I would look very differently on those same arguments if they were presented by a Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan rather than by Shelby Steele.

Perhaps it might be nice if people could evaluate all arguments in a vacuum. But this is entirely irrelevant, because it will never happen. In the structure of human discourse, messenger and message are inextricably linked, for better or for worse.

Yoon's editorial is entitled "Beavis Is No Bill Safire," and it was quite a revelation for me (I thought Beavis and Safire were the same person). Yoon writes, "Campus opinion has been brought down to the level of name-calling and ridicule. In short, Beavis is invading the written word."

Yoon demonstrates his failure to understand the different functions of different modes of discourse. He also shows a lack of understanding about the theoretical bases of the popular culture that Beavis and Butthead epitomize.

One example Yoon cites to support his point is my editorial on Harvard-Radcliffe Students for Choice, pointing out that I spent a significant part of my article attacking the egregious typographical errors in their newsletter.