Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Rhetoric: Facts and Fiction

This afternoon, our Composition class discussed rhetoric, which Aristotle defined as “the faculty of discovering in any particular case all of the available means of persuasion.” Interestingly, though they purported to agree with this view, my class described a much different definition of “persuasion,” one which I’d now like to expound upon and then refute.
First, I will begin to talk about Aristotle’s quote, which I think was grossly misrepresented in class - “the faculty” meant to represent human nature, and “any particular case” to imply all interactions an individual shared with other people.” To better understand Aristotle’s view, we would do well to put in context how Rhetoric was composed. The book was written during two period’s in Aristotle’s career: the first (367 to 347 BCE) while he was apprenticed to Plato, and the second period (335 to 322 BCE) after he had begun running his own academy, the Lyceum. The Rhetoric is made up of three books, but we may safely be concerned only with the first, which lays out the definition of rhetoric. When Aristotle writes about deliberate rhetoric, he is mainly concerned about how to raise discourse in political circles: war, law-making, economy, commerce. He advocated, specifically, that people not engage in rhetorical discourse about subjects they cannot control. "But the subjects of deliberation are clear, and these are whatever...are within our power. [As judges] we limit our consideration to the point of discovering what is possible or impossible for us to do." What does Aristotle mean to ascribe as “the subjects of deliberation”? He is referring to the “particular case” in which, once discovered, though not before (that, as he said, would rule out eligibility for rhetoric), one may safely begin to expose concepts to the light of reason and debate. [1] “Particular cases,” as Aristotle considers them, are in this book meant to refer to politics and speech-giving. Here, we come to the classroom discussion.
The tenor of the argument, I am glad to say, was cordial; there wasn’t as much disagreement as I would have liked; but that is beside my point, which is this: Before using the work of an important historical scholar, we would be well advised to read his work first. By that means, we would avoid looking silly afterwards.
The first premise the class put forward was: Human nature is self-evidently evil (selfish), and, as Aristotle said, people express this preternatural inclination by attempting to exert power over others in each and every situation that they come into contact. I won’t attempt to dispute Aristotle’s view on this matter, for the simple reason that he would have completely disagreed with it. To begin, Aristotle was not phrasing his definition of persuasion within the context of evil, but rather through goodness, luck, and happiness; when using persuasion, we must realize, he writes, that there is no concrete definition (“Human nature is self-evidently evil”) about human values. Aristotle argues that the people are capable of reaching a common understanding of what an ideal means. By accepting this premise, the public realizes that all ideas are evaluated by the human propensity for goodness ("On Rhetoric",I.4.1359b:4) and the goodness they observe in others. He did not say, as the class said, that people use their habit to evaluate the value of ideas through the goodness they see in others for selfish, evil reasons.
The second premise the class put forward is related to the first: (1) As Human nature is basically pathological, is oriented toward its own gratification, we can conclude that (2) all attempts at persuasion are motivated by selfish means; (3) As all persuasion is pathological, all communication persuasive, thus all communication and actions are rooted deep down in a nature that is selfish. Here, obviously, we have completely abandoned the subjects of rhetoric and Aristotle, so we may put those aside momentarily. On the first leg of the premise, “Human nature is basically pathological”: If I or anybody decided to build an argument about human nature on the foundation that it was good or evil, either attempt would end in miserable failure. The reason is because, by looking around us, we could find whatever form of behavior we like. That isn’t reasoning, but more along the line of cherry-picking. “All attempts at persuasion are motivated by selfish means”? I don’t agree, frankly, that all communication is persuasion. Persuasion, for me, implies an argument is in place; arguments have premises and a conclusion, and usually evidence to support their conclusions. In short, if I say “John F. Kennedy was the greatest president out country ever had” or “The table is red,” I am not making argumentative or persuasive statements. What I said were general statements, which life is filled with. I never said why I thought John F. Kennedy was the greatest president, and perhaps I don’t believe that statement; nor did I give an example of a red table – I don’t have an opinion about it, because the red table I’m thinking of doesn’t exist.
Finally, “All communication is rooted deep down in a faculty that is fundamentally selfish.” Obviously, this doesn’t comply with Aristotle’s idea of the human faculty, but never mind that. I will answer this by stating my own opinion of selfishness, which is that, I see no reason why all selfishness is necessarily bad. Here, our class employed what, from my point of view, was a very specious form of argument. The basis was: If you are slightly evil, your essence is evil. The only analogue I can think of to this reasoning is on Kirk Cameron’s “Way of the Master” program. “Way of the Master” is a Christian television program, aired on cable access, which deals with the subject of evangelism. On the show, Cameron does a segment in which he approaches common people on the streets and, catching them off guard, proceeds to humiliate them. He asks them inane questions, expecting the same predictable answers. For example: “Have you ever lied before? Yes? Then, by your own admission you are a liar. Ever stollen? Then that makes you a thief.” Notice, he doesn’t ask, “Have you ever given a present to somebody? Then that makes you generous.” Cameron fails to consider that life may present some instances in which lying may be virtuous or, in fact, that there are times in life where people don’t lie. In my opinion, the class made the same mistake but in this case, on the subject of evil.

1. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/aristotle-rhetoric/

No comments:

Post a Comment