The most universal emotion in Congressional debate is confusion. Whether it strikes while setting a docket in a chaotic round or learning parliamentary procedure for the first time mid-round, the elements of our event can be daunting both for novices and for competitors stacked with TOC bids. But the most disorienting part about Congress is not always its structure. Often, it is the results.

Across all events, the lingua franca of criticisms is the infamous “judge screw”. In traditional formats like Public Forum and Lincoln-Douglas, competitors walk out of the room baffled and frustrated, convinced they had won. In Congress, the cliché is to the tune of: "Great speech!", followed by a 9. But I have become concerned with a trend within the community when it comes to judging and the results of other competitors. When someone is successful that does not fit our narrative of what Congressional debate should be — whether that be their speaking style, speech structure, or even jargon — we criticize them and the judges that gifted them such success. There will always be 1-2 people in a major final round that others think did not deserve to be there.This raises an obvious question: how do we fix this? Is the answer more rigorous judge training, in pursuit of fairness and uniformity? After over a year of competing and observing this phenomenon, I have actually drawn a conclusion contrary to my own assumptions about debate. Subjectivity is utterly necessary to get the full learning experience from Congress in particular.

To understand this, we must understand what differentiates Congress debate from, say, Policy. Each of these formats have inherently separate goals for learning. The norm on the CX circuit can sometimes stray to arguments Congressional debaters would view as far fetched, unrealistic, or even silly. But the concept is not speaking to persuade (cough cough, spreading); it is to be as technical as possible. Congress, on the other hand, is pragmatic. The benefits our event holds is being inherently “lay” — a fusion of Speech AND Debate skills. The first cries of jealous competitors, pointing out a judge screw, usually takes form in “They didn’t have argumentation! They were not structured!”. There is the assumption that the judge who gave the confusing rank was not paying attention to the argument the favored debater was giving and were instead hypnotized by their performance. But this assumption mischaracterizes what their thought process would be. If you prioritize accessibility over technical argumentation, you are not failing to pay attention. You are applying one of the various standards the event appeals to. There are, of course, real instances of a strange decision that results from negligence. But consider the competitor whose success shocked you at a major tournament. No matter what, they did something right to earn their rank. If they could successfully appeal to the average person, making enough sense and seeming impressive enough, then they are a good Congressional debater. 

This is not so to dismiss the concern of confusion. Subjectivity in judging creates stress, erodes confidence, and in extreme cases, discourages participation. Ballots in this event can vary wildly, if you do not know what to expect from a certain judge or archetype, you’re pretty much screwed. You could get advice from a coach to use a creative intro that stands out, and days later, a judge tells you to stay on topic. But there are two reasons why homogenization of judging is not the solution. 

The first is that Congress would end up dominated by one narrow conception of the event. Too frequently, major tournaments are run and officiated by the same people. If judge training becomes descriptive of what you should expect beyond the basics of sensible reasoning, round adaptation, and engaging speaking, the event will likely give an edge to larger teams that can teach this paradigm. Those who develop their own unique styles that do not fit said standard will suffer, hurting the goal of discourse.

The second reason concerns the premise of the event itself: governance. In Congressional debate, we roleplay as senators (thankfully, without the negative qualities of real ones). But this has an important expectation for how we execute arguments: accessibility. If we only ever practice the event on our own terms, we lose the quality that helps Congress prepare us for real life. We must learn to persuade and adapt based on our audience. The skill that judges subjectivity forces us to develop into better communicators, inside debate and out.

Now that we know that subjectivity is important, how does the debate space adapt to fix the concerns of competitors who struggle with it? The most workable solution is to require more transparent paradigms and ballots so judges think more about their decisions and competitors can understand the minds of the lay, flay, and even tech when going into a round. This way, we can reap the benefits of fairness and transparency at the same time. We can approach our rounds with intention and learn even more about the communication skills corroborated above.

“At the end of the day”, confusion is not the enemy of Speech and Debate. It can be frustrating at times, but it forces us to become better people and better leaders. The goal, then, is not to strip away the subjectivity that makes Congress unique. It is to make that subjectivity visible enough that every competitor, however confused they walk in, has a fair shot at navigating it.