What Is the Difference Between Rhetoric and Manipulation?

I think there is a clear practical case to be made for rhetoric: since it is becoming more interconnected the world depends increasingly on good communication, therefore anything that makes an individual communicate more clearly and persuasive is obviously a benefit to that person. But what is the ethical argument for rhetoric? Why would a person with high ideals and democratic sentiments (as I would like to think of myself) study such an art? This is one of the oldest questions in Western thought actually, so I do not expect to solve it in one blog post. But these are some thoughts I have on the subject:

The first problem in making that argument is definition. Rhetoric is often, though mistakenly, used to describe the deceptive practices of some politicians and salesmen, and Plato once accused it of being "flattery" with no intrinsic ethical value (though he is more positive about it in later dialogues). In other words, if rhetoric was a person, it would be seen as a scoundrel, a deceiver. So how do you defend a scoundrel? Well, you can't, because a scoundrel per definition is indefensible. What you do is show how that label or definition is misplaced, and that another definition is better. Rhetoric is concerned with persuasion, but what is mislabeled as rhetoric is really manipulation: "Psychological manipulation is a type of social influence that aims to change the perception or behavior of others through underhanded, deceptive, or even abusive tactics. By advancing the interests of the manipulator, often at another's expense, such methods could be considered exploitative, abusive, devious and deceptive." Though a person who persuades and one who manipulates may have the same end in mind, the process is different (as I will show later in this post). The end does not justify any means in rhetoric, because, as most honored rhetoricians have observed, the means of influence can have implications which are more severe than the influencer ever dreamed of.

Of course, every definition depends upon some other definition. What does it mean that something is ethical? Rather than subscribing to a specific theory of ethics, Kantian or otherwise, I will work from a definition of ethical as something which promotes ends which are commonly held as good or favorable to individuals and society, and while doing so adheres to a common code of acceptable behavior.    

Plato argued in Gorgias that rhetoric is unethical because its end is power, which is not necessarily good for everyone, and it achieves this end through flattery, which is dishonest and prevents good judgment.

The immediate ends of rhetoric, according to Isocrates, are persuasion and judgment. How can persuasion, which is a method of power or influence, be ethical? Well, one may as well ask how any kind of power or influence can be ethical. We have to use methods of power and influence on each other, since that is the only way we can function as a society. People don't think the same way, and without a method of aligning thought, attitudes, and actions, even temporarily, any kind of communal living would be impossible. To have a society, people actually have to agree first that they are a part of a society. Therefore, though methods of power always have a sinister potential, persuasion should be evaluated in comparison to the alternatives for aligning thought.

I think a good starting place is this description from Bryan Garsten's Saving Persuasion: A Defense of Rhetoric and Judgment: "Persuasion in the strict sense identifies a way of influencing that is neither manipulation nor pandering. The speaker who manipulates his audience so as to bring them to a belief or action without their consent, as Kant thought orators moved men 'like machines,' has not persuaded but coerced. In contrast, the speaker who merely finds out where his audience itches and then scratches there, as Plato thought pandering Athenian orators did, has not managed to change his listener's minds at all. To truly persuade people is to induce them to change their own beliefs and desires in light of what has been said. Though we speak of 'being persuaded' in the passive voice, we recognize the difference between being persuaded and being indoctrinated or brainwashed; the difference lies in the active independence that is preserved when we are persuaded" (7). Persuasion is never complete when an orator has finished speaking. It includes a process of internal deliberation and evaluation which enlists all of our rational, emotional, and deliberative faculties. As Garsten goes on to write, "An orator does not coerce; he merely puts words into the air . . . mental digestion is a process over which we can exercise some control. We reject arguments that seem far-fetched or suspicious. Being persuaded is not the same as learning, but it is related. When someone sits back and decides, 'All right, you have persuaded me,' he is not merely describing something that has happened to him. In spite of the grammar, he is describing something he has done" (7).

Rhetoric is the art of "finding the available means of persuasion in any given situation" and since persuasive speech is not powerful enough to coerce and persuasion is not achieved through mere flattery, rhetoric cannot be reduced to pandering or manipulation. Rhetoric depends on individual judgment, and thus it respects agency. Manipulation, on the other hand, tries to make use of automatic responses, neurological pathways, and mental reflexes to change one's mind without detection. A perfect "victim" for a manipulator will never know what hit him. The mechanism of persuasion is much more overt, and it involves choice.

This appeal to judgment or agency may be one of the most democratic aspects of rhetoric, which may make it ethical in a society which values argument rather than force as a method of influence. As Kenneth Burke writes, "Persuasion involves choice, will; it is directed to a man only insofar as he is free" (50). Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca elaborate this point: "The use of argumentation implies that one has renounced resorting to force alone, that value is attached to gaining the adherence of one's interlocutor by means of reasoned persuasion, and that one is not regarding him as an object, but appealing to his free judgment. Recourse to argumentation assumes the establishment of a community of minds, which, while it lasts, excludes the use of violence. To agree to discussion means readiness to see things from the viewpoint of the interlocutor, to restrict oneself to what he admits, and to give effect to one's own beliefs only to the extent that the person one is trying to persuade is willing to give his assent to them" (55). As Dupreel writes, "Every justification is essentially a moderating act, a step toward greater communion of heart and mind." From these statements, argumentation (which inevitably uses rhetoric) is ethical because it is a method of influence which is more equal and less destructive than the alternative (violence, as shown below).

So persuasion is better than coercion through violence, but I would go even further. This is messy territory where not all rhetoricians would agree with me, but it is my personal opinion: Rhetoric can teach us how to use more ethical ways of communicating and how to improve our judgment.

It is usually acknowledged that there are two parts of rhetoric: rhetorica utens (the use of persuasive resources) and rhetorica docens (the study of persuasive resources). From Aristotle onwards, there has always been a normative element to rhetorica docens. There is, to be reductive, "good" persuasion and "bad" persuasion, good rhetoric and bad rhetoric. The best grounding I can think of for this distinction is found in the ancient often unspoken connection between rhetoric and democracy. As Tacitus writes, rhetoric needs the liberty of democracy to flourish. It was a system of learning bred and developed as a tool for and product of democratic deliberation, and that spirit remained in its traditions, topics and exercises. Good rhetoric therefore respects the constraints of democratic deliberation and considers what impact both its form and content will have on future public deliberations and indeed the demos itself. This is where there is a real difference between Hitler and Martin Luther King, even though both of them were very effective orators. In my coursework I will study Hitler in order to know what to guard against and how to debunk similar rhetoric in our society today, but I will not teach my students to talk, write, or think like him. Bad rhetoric poisons the well of public deliberation and undermines the virtues which are essential for a democracy. It prepares the way for totalitarianism. Good rhetoric supports and adheres to the basic virtues of democratic deliberation, one of the main being that you actually listen to both sides in a dispute. This normative function of rhetoric is perhaps best examplified by Isocrates and Cicero. Isocrates uses much of his Antidosis to teach and remind his audience about the dynamics and norms for good deliberation. For example, he warns his jury, "Those states in which an occasional citizen is put to death without a trial we condemn as unfit to live in, yet are blind to the fact that we are in the same case when we do not hear with equal good will both sides of the contest." He is warning here that if we do not hear both sides willingly and as much as possible without prejudice, our democratic deliberations may be no better than the arbitrary decisions of tyrants. Paul Woodruff writes that the intellectuals behind Athenian democracy "cultivated rhetoric and good judgment for their power in sorting out the better uncertainties from weaker ones" (176). 

This brings us to how rhetoric leads to better judgment. Eugene Carver mentions three ways, from an Aristotelian perspective, in which rhetoric can teach, train, and improve our judgment.

1. By judging persuasive speeches we experience an argument as an argument. Often we consider what we are being told as simple fact and do not realize that we are being given arguments which need to be evaluated for validity and acceptability before they should be accepted or rejected.

2. We learn not to rely solely on antecedent opinions, or what is usually called "reputation." It becomes clearer to us that those former judgments were also the results of a form of deliberation, and it may be faulty. Things that today seem cut in stone were at one time fluid; they were deliberated and argued and there were dissenting arguments at the time which may have been valid and which may contain lessons and warnings for current problems. 

3. We learn that concerning persuasion on deliberative matters there are no experts. Nobody can know what the future will be like, and nobody can know for sure what a certain course of action will lead to in the future. As such, we have to make decisions based on educated guesses and conjecture, and sometimes a normal citizen can have valuable insights into uncertain choices gained from personal experience which the experts are blind to because of the nature of their expertise.

Isocrates adds that the process of finding a good argument is similar to the process of deliberation that leads to good judgment, and therefore is good training: "for the same arguments which we use in persuading others when we speak in public, we employ also when we deliberate in our own thoughts; and, while we call eloquent those who are able to speak before a crowd, we regard as sage those who most skillfully debate their problems in their own minds." Most of the decisions in our everyday life we have to make by applying our skill of judgment to contingent and uncertain situations. The best of course would be complete certainty, but, as Isocrates writes, "in the next resort I hold that man to be wise who is able by his powers of conjecture to arrive generally at the best course, and I hold that man to be a philosopher who occupies himself with the studies from which he will most quickly gain that kind of insight." In other words, as Woodruff claims, "Rhetoric has more to do with setting up the conditions for good judgment than with persuasion . . . By bringing out the best points on both sides, rhetoric serves the cause of good judgment" (185). 

Finally, I guess my ethical case for rhetoric is based on my personal experience of teaching, studying, practicing, and experiencing it. Rhetoric does not overwhelm judgment. Judgment is all it can appeal to if it seeks to have any kind of power. A rhetorician meets an audience where they stand, with their experiences, beliefs, prejudices, hopes, fears, and desires, and works within their language and values to invite them to consider or reconsider opinions, attitudes, or actions. Any leader concerned about the deficits of public judgment should encourage the teaching of rhetoric and make the experience of citizen life a course in deliberative democracy. That decentralizes persuasive power, making people more immune to demogoguery which will forever be a potential evil in human societies. In the end, democratic deliberation teaches us humility. Any rhetor, no matter how skilled or thorough, in the end has to defer to the audience and say, as Isocrates at the end of his Antidosis, "Being assured, therefore, that I am of this mind, and that I believe that whatever you decide will be for my good and to my advantage, let each one cast his vote as he pleases and is inclined."

You have read my arguments and you have compared them with your own experiences, knowledge, and feelings. What do you think?

"Seeking Light for Ourselves in the Darkness": Isocrates' Evolutionary Philosophy of Knowledge

What does it mean to be a man or woman of principle? Most would agree that it means one lives ones life after a set of beliefs which operate as an anchor to make sure that one does not simply follow that which is convenient, popular, or easy at any given time. Yet being a person of principle is not the same as being rigid or being unable to take uncertain conditions into consideration. Most of the decisions we have to take in our everyday lives involve a greater or lesser degree of uncertainty as to what the outcomes will be. How then, can we make a decision when we don't have all the data? This is where two of the great thinkers of the ancient world offered radically different approaches: Plato advocated that we search for the transcendent true principles by the method of dialectic, whereas Isocrates recommended that we conjecture to find the best course of action by the method of rhetoric.

In his Antidosis, Isocrates claims that the ability of speech is the basis of human superiority over animals: “we are inferior to many in swiftness and in strength . . . but because there has been implanted in us the power to persuade each other . . . not only have we escaped the life of the wild beasts, but we have come together and founded cities and made laws and invented arts . . . there is no institution devised by man which the power of speech has not helped us to establish” (75). Notice that he writes about the development of man through speech as a progressive history with words such as “escaped,” “come together,” “founded cities,” “made laws” and “invented arts,” showing clearly that the construct of human civilization was not a finished building, but was rather a product of laying brick by brick over many  years. In the same way, Isocrates sees the development of the human mind as a work in progress facilitated by speech, “With this faculty we both contend against others on matters which are open to dispute and seek light for ourselves on things which are unknown” (75). Rather than Plato’s immortal soul which merely seeks to remember what it already knows (Phaedrus 66), we here see a universe of uncertainty, where man seeks illumination for himself through speech in the midst of the great unknown. It is in these divergent ideas of the world we must situate the writings of Plato and Isocrates if we are to understand why they espouse such different views on rhetoric and philosophy. For Plato, philosophy is a process of uncovering universal truth which is accessible in a transparent universe; for Isocrates, it is a process of conjecture and good judgment which is the best man can hope to achieve in a world when we have to act in the present without any real knowledge about the future.

Isocrates knows that his assumptions about the world are the foundations of his argument, therefore he sets out to establish these early on in Against the Sophists, “For I think it is manifest to all that foreknowledge of future events is not vouchsafed to our human nature, but that we are so far removed from this prescience that Homer . . . has pictured even the gods at times debating among themselves about the future” (72; Jaeger 129). In such an environment it seems clear that mankind cannot demand perfect knowledge or perfect definitions. Rather, mankind have to make do with what they have, gradually improving the construct from a tent, to a hut, to a house. Indeed, Isocrates even argues that our ideas about social values were not established prior to language, but rather established by language: “For this it is which has laid down laws concerning things just and unjust, and things honourable and base:  and if it were not for these ordinances we should not be able to live with one another. It is by this also that we confute the bad and extol the good” (Antidosis 75). The conclusion therefore becomes obvious: Since man cannot know about the future, the man is wise “who is able by his powers of conjecture to arrive generally at the best course, and I hold that man to be a philosopher who occupies himself with the studies from which he will most quickly gain that kind of insight” (77). Bereft of truth, all man can hope for is the development of character and judgment. In consequence, this becomes the focus of Isocrates’ educational project, with rhetoric as the natural center of the practical arts. As Jaeger states, "he has made a virtue of necessity" (137). Isocrates, unlike the speechwriters, was not lacking a transcendent ideal for his philosophy. He found it in Panhellenism, which could only be brought to pass through unity and cohesion, making this the aim of his rhetoric (Jaeger 126).

With this framework, it also becomes clear why sophists and so-called philosophers are worthy of censure (Isocrates mixed the terms, but for clarity I will use Plato's nomenclature): Philosophers seek that which they cannot gain, and therefore they waste the time and talents of their students on hair-splitting, “they pretend to have knowledge of the future but are incapable either of saying anything pertinent or of giving any counsel regarding the present” (73). Sophists, on the other hand, “have no interest whatever in the truth” (73), and as such end up completely without morals or character, subjected to the moment rather than any transcendent ideal, as well as being poor teachers without rigor in their teachings.

If, on the other hand, we believe like Plato that absolute universal truths are attainable, it makes sense that we should first seek out this foundation before we start to construct our lives. Thus, just as a doctor must know how the body works before he starts an operation, so we must know the nature of virtue, beauty, and that which is good before we can know how we should live our lives. Plato sees the philosopher as someone building a house who first digs down to the solid bedrock in order to have a solid foundation, Isocrates sees him as a person on a thin raft of principles which is floating over the liquid foundation of speech, and out of driftwood and other sparse materials this man must try to construct a boat. Jaeger mentions that most unlike the alphabet are "the fluid and manifold situations of human life" (134), which is the realm of rhetoric.

Here is one example of how the complexity of human interactions and human relationships makes knowledge more fluid: 

These two perspectives may be reflected in their divergent views on the good life. Plato’s Socrates observes the world with curiosity, yet with what sometimes seems like a calm detachment. Isocrates criticizes this “isolation” and claims that “men who want to do some good in the world must banish utterly from their interests all vain speculations and activities which have no bearing on our lives” (76). The philosophy of Isocrates is situated in the politics of everyday life, whereas the philosophy of Plato is situated in the eternal idea-world, where everyday life is an unpleasant and unreal intrusion on the purer things of the soul. 

In the end, Plato became the father of western philosophy, whereas Isocrates became the father of western education. I believe both approaches have their place in the world we live in. We have to learn how to think and search to find true answers, but when we still end up with an incomplete understanding we need to be able to work with what we have. After all, whoever found a way to gather reliable data about the future?

The Defining Moment

One of the most famous debunkings of rhetoric is found in Plato's Gorgias, and it is one philosophers like to ask me about. However, as I hope to show you, Plato doesn't debunk rhetoric in this dialogue, he simply chastices Gorgias and his followers for how they use rhetoric. But in order to win the debate, Plato uses tricks of definition, where he pretty much sets up artificial boundaries for what an art is and makes sure to place rhetoric firmly on the outside of it. Here's an example of how you can do this: "You claim to be a Christian. Christians generally believe in x, y, and z. You do not believe in z, therefore you are not a Christian but a heretic." The one who pushes for a definition obviously here has the greater power. In politics this same power-play can be seen when a Republican is accused of being a RINO (Republican in name only) which is very hard to refute since the one who makes the accusation also has the power to define what it means to be a "true Republican." The same power of definition is used by the left to label someone as "racist," "out of touch" or "Wall Street puppet."Here is an example of someone who definitely wants that power.

Socrates displays the rhetorical power of definition as he consistently challenges the explanations made by Gorgias, Polus, and Callicles about rhetoric until the definition is narrow and yet ambiguous enough for him to attack and discredit what Gorgias is practicing. Socrates sets some of the conditions for this victory early on, as he asks Gorgias to give brief answers, thereby of a necessity forcing oversimplified explanations to some complex questions. But the main condition for Socrates winning is that he is able to compare the work of the rhetorician to the arts of production, such as doctor, money-maker, and trainer, thereby forcing Gorgias to situate rhetoric within a category where it does not belong. This is then easily refutable, allowing Socrates to define rhetoric according to his preferences.

            The key passage which decides this outcome is on page 90, where Socrates challenges rhetoric by comparing it to medicine, training, and money-making and asks, “what is this thing that you say is the greatest good for men, and that you claim to produce?” Gorgias answers, “the ability to persuade” (91) and, when challenged further, that it is “the kind of persuasion . . . which you find in the law courts and in any public gatherings . . . and it deals with what is just and unjust” (92). After a few more questions, Socrates sums this point up: “Thus rhetoric, it seems, is a producer of persuasion for belief . . . in the matter of right and wrong” (92). Rhetoric must now 1. Produce the guaranteed outcome of persuasion like a sculptor produces a sculpture, and 2. Deal specifically with the subject matter of justice. These few lines have set the main tendencies in motion that will bring this dialogue to its now almost inevitable conclusion. The strongest defense Gorgias can muster comes on page 93 where he claims that rhetoric is a “neutral” art such as “boxing, wrestling, or fighting in armor,” and as such merely increases faculties innate in humans which can be used for good or evil. However, Gorgias has already undermined this point by claiming to produce persuasion about what is just or unjust. This clearly has ethical implications, which Socrates pursues until Gorgias submits that someone who produces persuasion about what is just or unjust first needs to know about the subject matter and be a just man himself. This then leads to the absurd conclusion that no unjust man could ever become a rhetorician or do rhetoric. 

 

Rhetoric as a producer of persuasion concerning justice is the most essential definition which Socrates is able to use in his favor. If rhetoric is able to produce persuasion about just and unjust, then this can be censured since it would seem to overrule judgment. Consequently, this definition is the first thing Aristotle refutes in his Rhetoric. Instead of accepting Socrates’ idea that all arts must only deal with one specific subject matter, Aristotle compares rhetoric with the art of dialectic: “Rhetoric is the counterpart of dialectic. For both treat of such things as are in a way common for all to grasp and belong to no delimited science” (66). Rhetoric and dialectic are both general arts practiced by all people to some degree, and they can be improved by instruction and practice although they are used in many areas towards many separate outcomes. He also rejects the notion that all arts must produce something and that rhetoric is the production of persuasion: “Its function is not persuasion. It is rather the detection of the persuasive aspects of each matter and this is in line with all other skills” (69-70). In the same way, probably referring back to Gorgias, he claims medicine is not the ability to produce health but rather the art of knowing what may help someone feel better and what may not, and administer accordingly.

As the argument stands, without the help of Aristotle, Gorgias can no longer argue the case that rhetoric is a neutral art which simply increases abilities. Polus and Callicles go on to defend rhetoric by appealing to the power it brings as something inherently good for individuals, but none of these are difficult to refute on ethical grounds. Because rhetoric was defined as persuasion about what is just or unjust, Socrates correctly points out that this is really the realm of justice, and that in claiming to be about justice, without the knowledge of it, rhetoric is an impostor with form but without sound content. Thus, the only use Socrates initially assigns to it is that of flattery: tempting men to give in to the basest parts of their nature and seeking more to please than to edify.

                 

However, Socrates seems to imply later on that it is the contemporary use rather than the nature of rhetoric which he has most distain for. He says man should “be the first accuser either of himself or of his relations, and [should] employ his rhetoric for the purpose of so exposing their iniquities that they may be relieved of that greatest evil, injustice” (109), and repeats the point at the end: “Rhetoric is to be used for this purpose always, of pointing to what is just” (138). In essence he agrees that rhetoric is neutral and can be used for either good or evil. 

So remember, the next time you hear someone being called something: "Who defined what that term means in this context?" and "What case could be made for this person not fitting into that category if 1. you look at other actions they have taken or 2. if you could make a different definition." Be aware of the defining moment. 

Transcending Titles: Becoming the Leader People Want to Follow

In First Democracy, Paul Woodruff describes the Athenian democracy; a society where representatives were chosen by lottery rather than election and every man had the same right to speak in the legislative Assembly. This practice must have made the first days of the new Assembly somewhat chaotic, since a leadership figure during the last session may not even be a part of the Assembly this time around, no matter what his prominence or popularity was. In such situations rhetors could “exert special influence without holding public office, simply in virtue of their speaking abilities” (33). This may also be the case in the evolving world where Woodruff hopes the Internet will “grow to give the citizens of modern states a rough equivalent of the rights of ancient Athenians to speak and be heard” (68). How then must a person communicate in the modern world to be able to lead a group of people in a certain direction?

In A Rhetoric of Motives Kenneth Burke writes, “A is not identical with his colleague, B. But insofar as their interests are joined, A is identified with B. Or he may identify himself with B even if their interests are not joined, if he assumes that they are or is persuaded to believe so” (544). The act of identification is not physical, since A and B remain separate entities with separate experiences, rather this is a symbolic act. As Burke points out, A has to be persuaded that he has joined interests with B in order for identification to occur. This implies that in order to get people to follow him, a leader has to communicate a common interest with his audience, and thereby create an artificial unity from diversity. Woodruff explains how Cleocritus was able to unite followers of the tyrants and the democrats by appealing to their common interests and culture as Athenians (83). In a more diverse group of people a leader may appeal to ‘basic humanity’ like Obama, Cameron, and Sarkozy did in their internationally published opinion editorial about Libya. However, identification does not always rely upon pre-existing ties of fellowship. Effective leaders are able to create common interests where none may naturally exist. One way to do this is by articulating a vision which, although not initially of interest to the audience, is made interesting by the way it is described and linked with pre-existing interests. In Turnaround: Crisis, Leadership, and the Olympic Games Mitt Romney describes the task of leadership as “creating a vision of higher purpose and . . . offering challenges beyond normal expectations” (xix). He writes this about his leadership in the 2002 Olympics, “Our task was to identify a defining vision, communicate that in a compelling way, and provide the kind of focus that reinforces that vision as a living, breathing thing, not just lip service. And if we were to succeed, it would be because of the commitment to that vision by the entire team, and by the community” (xix). It is interesting to note that without that shared vision highly qualified people will not follow you, even in a corporate setting (59-60). As Romney writes, “Leaders establish vision and values that motivate and create unity of purpose” (20), again it is the ‘vision’ or common interest that creates a group.   

                

Romney’s language describing the unifying vision as a “higher purpose” sounds similar to the kind of leadership we encounter in Plato’s Phaedrus where leadership is not simply exploiting base interests to gain power over people, “dispensing miserly benefits of a mortal kind” (38), but rather a transcending process which brings both leader and follower closer to the gods. This transcendence is at once altruistic and egoistic. One gets personal benefit not by satisfying base passions (the black horse) but by summoning one’s abilities to reach a new, higher level. As Socrates says, “they become winged and light, and have won one of their three submissions in these, the true Olympic games, and neither human sanity nor divine madness has any greater good to offer a man than this” (37-38). It seems the human mind possesses a special potentiality to be fascinated and persuaded by such transcending, perhaps partially because of the great desire we have to experience the sense of purpose and unity such transcending can bring. We are united in something greater than ourselves.

See how composer Eric Whitacre leads a virtual choir of 2000 singers from 58 countries all over the world by unifying them in the transcendent purpose of making beautiful music. These singers have never met Whitacre or each other, yet they are united in a common purpose. He wrote the music and articulated the vision, and they all contributed their parts on individual Youtube videos which together became something transcendent.