Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Pleasure, Audience, and Moral Relativism (each considered somewhat separately)

This week I have a string of thoughts that do not collectively amount to an argument, but they are the topics that I felt most interested in exploring. 

1) Dr. Graban argues in her thorough schema of Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca’s theory of argumentation that the authors agree with Pascal on the superiority of “the art of pleasing” over “the art of convincing” (1403), and she then associates pleasing with informal reasoning and convincing with formal logic. This argument made me reconsider Condit’s critique; perhaps Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca do not so thoroughly “repress” emotion as Condit seems to claim (Condit’s use of repress, see 98). Pleasure is an emotion, and by arguing for the selection of arguments that the rhetor believes will be the most effective in causing the audience’s adherence (which perhaps can be understood as the audience’s pleasure in agreeing with the rhetor), rather than for the selection of arguments solely on the basis of “logic,” Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca are affirming the emotional aspects of rhetoric. 

That being said, I still think that Condit’s critique was appropriate, since Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca did not choose to actively explore the affective aspects of rhetoric, particularly in proportion to their discussion of types of/approaches to argumentation, which might lead people to conclude that emotions do not play a role in rhetoric.

But in their defense, perhaps their avoidance of emotion has more to do with their purpose (establishing rhetoric as a valid means of meaning making), and with their intended audience (modernists who place a greater trust in knowledge that can be “proven” by formal logic or scientific data than other means of knowledge making), than it does with their own views on the affective aspects of rhetoric. 

2) Regarding Dissoi Logoi, at first I was annoyed by the playfulness of the five “On” sections; I tend to be fairly serious when it comes to serious matters, and at first I took their approach to be flippant towards knowledge and morality. By the end, however, I came to the perspective that the author used these seemingly contradictory arguments as a means to show the audience the subjective, social nature of knowledge, and only then, with this understanding in mind, advance his (or her) own arguments regarding the election of political offices and other matters. By showing that some of the most apparent, widely accepted truths are open to questioning, I believe that the rhetor of Dissoi Logoi was inviting the audience to be less passive and more participatory via the audience mentally supplying alternative arguments in response to the rhetor’s apparent claims. 

3) I found Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca’s analysis of the epideictic genre intriguing. I have been wondering, however, if there is even more to this genre than the desire to bring the audience to consensus on matters of value. What if Aristotle’s idea that the task of the audience for epideictic speeches is to “merely decide on the orator’s skill” (185), could be expanded to mean that the audience is called upon to become aware of and consider which elements of rhetoric they find to be the most persuasive, thus partially becoming rhetors themselves (if we accept Aristotle’s definition of rhetoric as “the faculty of observing in any given case the available means of persuasion” (181))?

4) Finally, to add to the moral relativism discussion, I would like to put forward an analogy that I believe helps me understand this concept. Feel free to persuade me that it is a bad analogy. I view moral relativism as not arguing that there is no morality (that morality is simply “made up,” and therefore people have no basis for disagreeing with one another on what is moral or immoral), but rather that our ideas concerning morality are influenced by our historical moment and by the social communities that we belong to. Therefore, my analogy is that morality is only “relative” in the same way that a scientific theory is relative. A scientist puts forward a hypothesis, and then tests this hypothesis against what s/he can observe and currently believes. Then, if the hypothesis survives this test (and usually a whole battery of tests) it becomes a theory.  Scientific theories can at times seem to be indisputable “facts,” but in reality they can later be disputed or even disproven by new hypotheses and theories. 

Likewise, we have ideas concerning morality (theories) that we trust and act upon, but perhaps these very conceptions about morality may change later on, either within our own lives or in the course of human history. To enter into very dangerous territory, I would like to illustrate this concept in my own life. I consider myself to be a Christian, of the variety that believes in the divine inspiration and inerrancy of the Bible. This is my “reality,” similar to the way a scientist might view the natural world as reality. However, I, like a scientist, must recognize that my understanding of “reality” is limited by the instruments that I use to understand it, and is completely intertwined with my own historical moment and the beliefs of the various communities that I belong to.  Because of this, I should be open to the concept that my ideas concerning morality and judgments of value are subject to change. I know bringing religion into the conversation isn’t usually kosher in academic conversations (particularly when it is religion in the sense of personal faith/belief), but I feel like it is a moment necessary to explicitly state my own beliefs/biases, rather than pretend that they aren't affecting the way I think about and read these texts. Again, feel free to openly disagree with me or to completely ignore what I have said on this subject. 

4 comments:

  1. Sarah, I wish that I could take credit for the very thorough schema! It was in fact constructed by Abe, Ashley, and Jessica, who had trouble uploading it to Google Drive. I simply loaded it on their behalf!

    Still, I'll relish the feeling for a few moments longer that you liked "my" schema.

    -Dr. Graban

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    1. Well, I will have to congratulate them when I see them! Thanks for clearing up my error.

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  2. Sarah, I really appreciated your willingness to share in this post. As I've thought about Condit's critique of Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca, I find that she is really getting at two different things: ontology and epistemology. Traditionally speaking, "scholars" have tended to focus on the latter but not the former (although this is certainly changing). I want to relate that to your post, if I can (it may be a stretch).

    The research coming out of affective computing (see Dr. Picard's research here: http://web.media.mit.edu/~picard/index.php)seems to suggest that affective knowledge is far more complex than ever dreamed. Memory is tangled up with the affective processing areas of the brain (which I think Condit was trying to say). By restricting emotions, the academy has, in many ways, deprived itself of a richer, more textured understanding of the world; it has also flattened its affect and reduced the types and of ranges of responses that could benefit any democratic enterprise. I get it though: the affective can also be...untidy and hard to put neatly in a box. Condit argues that (at least in part) this is due to the dominance of phallocentrism in academics.

    As you know, affect is synonymous with that filthy word emotion, which has an embedded enthymeme that has plagued Western women for millennia: emotions are bad and women are emotional...(I'll let you do that ridiculous arithmetic). Merchant's The Death of Nature is a really good read that traces the simultaneous denudation of women and the environment. One of the points that she highlights is that there was a conflation of "nature as unruly and in need of taming" with this notion that "women are emotionally unruly and in need of taming." The only way to get rid of this is to weed it out; take dominion; dominate.

    Since you bring up the issue of religion and express a personal--which is necessarily (inter)subjective--view of it and how it influences your being-in-the-world (both ontologically and existentially significant), another issue surfaces. In even broaching the subject (tisk-tisk...how could you?)you state that it is "very dangerous territory." So let me get this straight...emotion and religion are off the table? If Condit read your post, I hope she would have the same visceral reaction as she did to Perelman's conference paper. I also hope she would stand against this bias towards scientism (which finds its roots in the hypothetico-deductive model). Pathos is every bit as important as logos in understanding the world and others in it; intuition as important as repeatability; religion every bit as important as (and in fact gave birth to) "the rational-scientific" endeavor.

    I guess my extremely long and circuitous response can be summed up by saying that I fear we are making the same mistakes as our predecessors did during the Enlightenment; and, more proximal, before the Feminist movements (I somehow made that sound like a terrible type of exercise..."THA FEMINIST MOVEMENTS"). This enlightenment led to a crude, overly-mechanized and industrialized period that we are still trying to clean up after and recover from. Emotions, like religious views, may not fit into neat discussions, but what's wrong with the messiness? I applaud your post and your showing forth (epideictic).

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  3. Thanks for your substantive reply Kyle. You bring up some really interesting points (and I had no idea that there was something called "affective computing"). I feel like by trying to show that Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca at least hint at the affective aspects of rhetoric I came across as being dismissive of Condit. To the contrary, I found her article thought-provoking and a refreshing counter-point to the "quasi-logical" arguments that we have been reading. I am interested in the affective aspects of thinking and decision making, which is why the supplementary text I chose is "Trust in Texts."

    Finally, thank you for reading the last part of my post kindly. Re-reading it now, I wish I could alter several aspects of my analogy. But, it seems to have done what I hoped it would do - open up the conversation to consideration of the emotional and religious aspects of life.

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