My Great American Think-Off Debate: Is Freedom of Speech Worth the Cost?

Every year since 1994, the Great American Think-Off board releases a new philosophical question. They put out a call for essays on the topic that take a clear yes or no stance. A blind judging process results in the board's announcing that year's four finalists, the people who wrote the best, most persuasive essays on that year's topic, two for yes, and two for no.

The finalists then travel to a little town in west central Minnesota called New York Mills to participate in a debate. The winner is named America's Greatest Thinker. 2024's question was: Is Freedom of Speech Worth the Cost? I was one of the finalists.

I've waited for each year's question to be announced for about a decade. Some years the question didn't speak to me. Some years the question was too broad. Some years I missed the deadline because life happens. I entered in 2018 when the question was "Which is More Influential in a Person's Life: Success or Failure? I argued for success. I received an Honorable Mention. I was honored. 

I admit that this year's question on free speech took me aback. I was a little surprised (but not shocked) that we are debating whether free speech is worth it, in America, the land of free speech. I would, of course, argue that yes, freedom of speech is worth the cost.

So I wrote my essay, which was the hardest thing I've ever written. My "in-house editor," my husband, had died. Everything I've ever written for publication has passed under his eyes before being sent for submission. It was like writing while being beaten with a grief stick, especially because the contest rules require the essay to have a personal connection to the subject matter, and my personal connection involved the death of one of my dearest friends.

Submissions came from all over the world. The submissions breakdown was 25 percent from ouside the U.S., 25 percent from Minnesota, and 50 percent from around the U.S. The blind judging process produced three finalists from Minnesota and one from New Mexico. Random and unusual, I'm told.

Being chosen as one of four "Americas Greatest Thinkers" came with a flurry of activity. There were six weeks of media interviews. Headshots and bios were submitted. We received an all-expenses-paid trip to New York Mills, MN, during which we were treated like mini celebrities by the lovely people of this small town devoted to art and civil debate.

The winners are determined by audience vote. It was live-streamed on YouTube (it's still there) but no remote voting. I was knocked out in the first round by the eventual winner. I was a free speech absolutist in a place where I don't think that was valued, and there was definitely room for improvement in my first-ever debate performance.

I was disappointed that I didn't bring home the gold medal, but I was proud to have been chosen to participate. Free speech won in the end, but not for the reasons I argued. I did my best despite huge mental and physical obstacles: 

• layers of grief (the above-mentioned losses and my arrival in New York Mills on what should have been our 38th wedding annniversary) 
• I slipped (dislocated) two ribs an hour before taking the stage due to the rigors of a solo road trip with a rare genetic condition that makes my bones loose 
• feeling like one of the very few conservatives in town while knowing I was the only conservative in the debate
• I'm a full-time caregiver, which is a 24-hour job. I hadn't had a full night of sleep in six months. It's really hard to retain information in a chonically sleep deprived state. I was given five nights of sleep in the days before the debate, for which I'm forever grateful.

Someone asked, "You went through with the debate with dislocated ribs?" Of course I did. What choice did I have?

Here's the link to the winning essays. (Mine's third from the top) 

I'm not proud of much these days, but I'm proud of myself for this. In my third year of widowhood, I've been challenging myself to do hard things. Alone. I got to debate one of the most consequential questions of our time because I wrote this essay despite gales of wind blowing in my face, not at my back, during every step. And I did it anyway. I did what I think we should all do right now: I excercised my right to free speech because I possess it. 

For now.