Interesting post by Josh Miller on Medium about open discussions, in reply to a post by Fred Wilson. It's interesting because Josh is the lead developer of Branch, a discussion system -- and Fred is the backer, and public face for Disqus, the discussion software we use here.
Fred argues that his blog is open to anyone to participate, but I've noticed what Josh has. While Fred, admirably responds to every comment on his system -- we're not getting much engagement beyond -- hey I'm here. To which you can reply and I'm here, and so am I, etc etc.
These aren't really discussions, not in any sense that peoples' minds come open to being changed. People come to recite their beliefs, they skim the posts and comments for key words, and then choose from a set of schpiels they memorized, and type them in.
Online discussions can be a lot like those on CNN or MSNBC, which to me seem like concerts. People are invited to sing their songs, in harmony with other songsters. The songs never vary. The volume does, and each has their own style, but there are rarely any new ideas.
To me, a good discussion is where a new perspective or fact can surface, and everyone has the possibility come away from the discussion changed. Smarter, better informed, with a possibly shifted point of view. Oh that's what they mean when they say...
Miller may be on to something. Branch allows discussion among a pre-set group of people. The moderator, the person who started the discussion can add new people. And new discussions can fork off from previous ones, exactly as it worked on my LBBS system in the early-mid 80s, only prettier (that was in the day of 300 baud modems, and scrolling "glass teletype" displays).
I still like the idea behind the H20 system developed at Berkman Center about ten years ago. It also had the concept of invited participants. To start, each would post positions on a moderator-supplied topic, privately. Then at a previously announced time, all the positions are revealed. There's a commenting period where each participant can write a rebuttal, again in private. They're revealed all at once. And that's it. The goal is to cover all sides of a topic, intelligently and not personally. Not surprising this was developed at a law school, by lawyers. It's a very legal approach to discourse.
What we really need are experimental platforms for non-programmers to invent new methods of discourse. We've relied too much on programmers, who have a definite style of arguing. But there are other professions that are fairly far ahead of us in understanding how humans communicate and share ideas. We are not that good at it, and so far most discussion systems have been limited by the imaginations of programmers.
BTW, a final note -- in case it isn't obvious -- I am also working on discussion software. There is a place to comment in Disqus, that's open to anyone. There's another way to participate here, by installing the OPML Editor and clicking on the green button you will see when you reload the page with the software installed on your computer. Instructions are on this page.
I think the primary thing missing from online discourse is the concept of reputation.
In real life, you spend literally a lifetime cultivating a reputation amongst friends, family, co-workers, and strangers
On the Internet, no one knows you are a dog. Or an asshole. Or anything else. I could be the author of a great blog, but I get only as much traffic, juice, attention, etc. as I can manufacture through the sweat of my brow or the purchase of Google AdWords.
In real life, my actions directly affect my reputation
The Internet has ADD. A snarky comment one day on one site has no relevance to a cogent, insightful comment I might make on another the next day.
Reputation is a currency. In real life, you get a force multiplier based on your reputation. Other people listen (or not), based on that reputation.
On the Internet, the attention goes to the loudest, richest, or first. A lot of valuable voices are drowned out in the shitstorm.
I could go on and on, but untill there is a true reputation currency on the Internet that is tied to your contributions, behavior, and community-evaluated relevance, commenting and communicating on the Web is going to be a pale shadow of real world dialog.
What we need are an agreed upon set of rules for online discourse.
Do we need tools that enforce these rules?
Do we need our tools to support these rules?

Online discussions can be a lot like those on CNN or MSNBC, which to me seem like concerts. People are invited to sing their songs, in harmony with other songsters. The songs never vary. The volume does, and each has their own style, but there are rarely any new ideas.
This isn't unique to online discussions. This happens far too often with in-person conversations as well. The first rule that we need is an agreement to actually listen.
Every week, I get together with a group of about 10-15 people and we have a moderated discussion. We used to call this meeting a Bible study, but we're not really doing the studying at the meeting. When we meet, we come together to share our thoughts and, ideally, learn from each other.
This doesn't always happen. Sometimes you feel like you have something that you really need to say, so you listen only to know when there is a break that you can interject. I am guilty of this.
We've tried different, seemingly arbitrary, rules. Some work, some don't. What has made the difference is that over many years we've learned to respect each other. As a result of the respect, we truly listen when the other speaks (most of the time).
Maybe that's whats really missing from online discourse: respect.