By the time the quarterfinals rolled around.
Clips of him dismantling opponents circulated across Discord servers, private academic channels, and even ended up stitched into a TikTok with the caption.
"POV: When the professor gets humbled by a student."
James walked into the auditorium with Professor Franklin trailing beside him like a nanny.
She didn't say much, just handed him a coffee.
"They're expecting blood," she murmured.
James took a sip. "Then let's make it a sacrifice."
His opponent for the quarterfinals was Alicia Daniels.
From Greenhaven University.
Sharp, poised, confident.
Her reputation preceded her.
She'd already knocked out two competitors from top-tier institutions and had apparently been on CNN last year for a scathing take-down of a state education policy.
She was tall, lean, and wore a no-nonsense expression that screamed.
"I've dismantled better than you before breakfast."
She approached James, extended a hand.
"You're James Rivera. The curve-breaker."
"And you must be Alicia Daniels. The one who makes moderators nervous."
She smirked. "Let's make this one they remember."
The moderator stepped up to the center podium.
"Quarterfinal Motion: This house believes that identity politics has weakened liberal democracies."
There was a ripple through the crowd.
It was the kind of motion that got people fired from jobs or trending on social media.
Alicia drew Pro.
James, Con.
She stepped up first, delivering her opening like a legal indictment.
"Identity politics," Alicia began, "has fractured the cohesion required to sustain functioning liberal democracies. Instead of citizenship, we're now categorizing people into racial, sexual, and cultural factions. The result? Endless tribalism and paralyzing discourse."
She invoked political theorists, including Mark Lilla and Yascha Mounk.
Cited statistics from Pew political affiliation was now more correlated with race and gender than economic class.
She quoted Fukuyama.
"When the appeal of identity becomes stronger than institutional trust, democracy suffers."
Her delivery was clean.
Clinical.
Methodical.
The kind of opening that left no rhetorical blood on the floor, but enough pressure to say.
"This is a courtroom. Choose your words carefully."
Then James stood.
He didn't rush.
He didn't posture.
He walked up like he owned the furniture.
"Alicia gives a polished argument. And it sounds compelling until you realize it's blaming the fire alarm for the fire."
Pause.
Wait.
Let it land.
"Identity politics didn't fracture liberal democracy. It exposed the fractures that were always there. When marginalized voices finally found language and community to speak out, it wasn't the creation of division. It was the recognition of it."
He turned toward the audience.
"Was the civil rights movement identity politics? Yes. Was the suffrage movement? Absolutely. LGBTQ+ activism? Indigenous land claims? Of course. Are we to say these weakened democracy? Or forced it to confront the hypocrisies it swept under centuries of false unity?"
He quoted bell hooks.
Angela Davis.
Even brought up Abraham Lincoln.
"A house divided cannot stand but that house was already divided. The question was who got to live in it."
Applause.
Quick and sharp.
Alicia returned to the podium with energy.
"Recognition is necessary," she said. "But when every conversation begins with how one is oppressed and ends with who is more marginalized, we lose the capacity to engage policy on its merits. It becomes moral hierarchy instead of civic dialogue."
She cited university protest examples, court cases where speech was suppressed in the name of harm prevention. "It is not discourse. It is gatekeeping."
James tilted his head.
Didn't write anything.
Just walked back to the mic.
"Respectfully, what Alicia describes is not identity politics. It is bad faith politics. Just like one doesn't ban newspapers because tabloids exist, you don't dismantle identity politics because some perform it poorly."
He stepped forward.
"Let's address the real anxiety here: the shift in narrative control. Liberal democracies used to be ruled by a single story. Identity politics cracked that. Now, people who were never at the table are asking for chairs. That's not weakness. That's democratic growth."
The room was electric.
Alicia narrowed her eyes.
Went in hard.
"But identity politics has led to fragmentation in legislative bodies. Look at the U.S. Congress. Look at Brexit. Coalitions break down because every subgroup demands prioritization. It stalls governance."
James raised a finger.
"Governance isn't stalled because of identity. It's stalled because those in power refuse to negotiate with it."
He was picking up speed now.
"You want unity? Great. Start by addressing disparity. The reason identity politics exists is because universalism failed to be truly universal."
He quoted Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
"The problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete."
He turned to Alicia.
"And incomplete democracy isn't democracy at all."
Alicia tried to cut in: "But intersectionality makes objective debate impossible.."
James interrupted.
Rare.
Deliberate.
"No. Intersectionality acknowledges complexity. And complexity doesn't kill debate. It demands we debate better."
The audience went wild.
He wasn't done.
"This is not high school. This is not about who yells loudest or finds the wittiest punchline. This is an academic debate. That means sources, citations, and truth over talking points. You say identity divides? I say erasing it does more harm. You say it stalls discourse? I say it forces honesty."
He walked back slowly.
Each step deliberate.
"And if liberal democracies are weakened, it's not because identity politics asked too much. It's because democracy delivered too little."
The room stood up.
Standing ovation.
Even some of Alicia's former supporters clapped.
The judges didn't take long.
They didn't need to.
James Rivera: 98.
Alicia Daniels: 79.
She approached him afterward.
"That was... brutal."
James offered a half-smile. "You were good. I just had more to say."
She extended a hand. "I don't like losing. But I like learning."
"Same," he said, shaking it. "That's why I never stop studying."
Professor Franklin met him backstage.
"You made her look like she was defending segregation."
James winced. "Not the goal."
"But the result."
He looked out at the hall.
"Semifinals next," he murmured.
Franklin smirked. "Whoever they put against you? They better bring backup."
He didn't reply.
Just cracked his neck.
And smiled.