Imagine, if you will, a crowded courtroom on a Friday afternoon. The accused is on trial for his life. The prosecuting attorney spent the week making his case, and he’s done a good job. There are a few nagging, unanswered questions, but they seem minor. The evidence is strong.

Now the defense attorney stands up. Everyone expects him to focus on the prosecution’s few loose ends, to use those nagging questions to plant a seed of doubt that might win his client acquittal. Instead, he stands up and says this:

I must say that the evidence is overwhelming. Sure, I could stand here and fight hard and perhaps score a few legal points, but – really – who are we kidding? My guy’s guilty as sin. So why don’t we just get this thing over with? None of us wants this case hanging around all weekend. Besides, the prosecutor and I are members of the same country club, and if I punch hard today, well, what if I see him on the golf course tomorrow? Awk-WORD! So whadda ya say? We’ll just keep things nice, polite, and civil. Is that a deal? Good! It’s a deal! The defense rests.

If you’ve even watched an episode of “Law and Order,” you would know that there’s no way this scene could ever happen. The defense lawyer wouldn’t get even this short paragraph out of his mouth before he was gaveled into submission by an outraged judge. Even the prosecutor would likely be horrified by this behavior.

Why? Because our system of justice depends on an adversarial process. Both lawyers are expected to play “flat-out.” Sure, there are rules. But the arguments are sharp. Both sides play to win. Even if the defendant really is “guilty as sin,” he is presumed innocent and gets the strongest defense possible. Such a process not only serves the accused, but it also gives “we the people” confidence in our laws, our lawmakers, and our law enforcers.

So it is – or should be – in our political discourse. Political speech does not decide someone’s guilt or innocence. The outcome of an election does not (generally) send people to the electric chair. But the stakes are, in some sense, no less significant. In political discourse, we are often arguing over competing views of reality, opposing understandings of what is true. Since no one political party has a monopoly on the truth, doesn’t it make sense that the other party should bring its best arguments? Should we not play “flat-out”?

Now, though, in the aftermath of the Arizona shooting, comes a renewed call for dialing back the volume, for toning down the rhetoric. Commentators and pundits would have us believe that strong political speech somehow caused or contributed to this violence.

In fact, just the opposite is true. People resort to violence when they believe their views are not being heard. If you want to see a society explode into violence, just put a lid on the free speech of that country. Oh, you may be able to suppress them for a while. And if you’re willing to do what the Soviet regime did – which is to murder 100-million of its people during the 20th century – you might be able to suppress them for a long while. But eventually such a regime will collapse with a roar.

It is precisely the tough political speech that some now want to “dial back” that the First Amendment protects. Indeed, if everyone spoke to each other in dulcet tones, we wouldn’t need a First Amendment. The First Amendment isn’t needed to protect speech with which we agree. We’ll do a good enough protecting that speech without a First Amendment. The First Amendment protects the speech we find distasteful, even hateful.

So when murderers such as the Arizona shooter come into our midst, let us do justice to him and for his victims, and let that justice be swift and sure. But let us not forget how we came to have a country in which we have the possibility of justice. Let us not forget that at the center of our beautiful, green and blue planet there is a core of molten iron. Scientists tell us that this molten core, though it sometimes erupts destructively as an earthquake or a volcano, is vital to keeping our planet alive.

Likewise, at the center of our civil society is a white-hot core of political tension. This political tension is by nature adversarial, and in a world full of what T.S. Eliot called “hollow men” and what C.S. Lewis called “men without chests,” this tension can be terrifying. But those who value the true and the good understand that this tension is no evil. This tension between competing ideas ensures that the best ideas prevail. It is a process that makes our democracy vital and our citizens strong.

We seek to diminish it or mitigate it at our peril.

Warren Cole Smith is the associate publisher of WORLD Magazine and the editor of WORLD News Service.

© Copyright 2011 World Magazine. Used with Permission