On the Sophists

I will begin this blog with my thesis: The Sophists rocked! 

But, before I go into detail about why the Sophists were so amazing, I must first give a shout-out to James Meyer of Meyer Bookbinding Company in Auburn, New York. Check out the site below:

http://www.meyerbookbinding.net/about.php 

This week, I got my book back, and it is lovely! My precious book is now in tact with a new, leather cover, complete with gold lettering. Proper for sure. And, getting my book back means I get to continue with my blog!

So, here we go. Onto the Sophists, who are featured first in The Rhetorical Tradition.

One time, at a meeting, I had a colleague list the oldest “fields” of academia. He included philosophy and psychology and excluded rhetoric. When I added, “and rhetoric,” he said, “Well, rhetoric is just really philosophy.” I disagreed. Its foundations are in philosophy, but rhetoric is specific and old. I wanted to add that psychology really just started in rhetoric, but academics could argue all day long about such things, and sometimes, they do. I try not to engage in such behaviors, but I did have an urge to throw my pen at this guy.

People do not understand rhetoric or how important it is. Rhetoricians, we need to do something about that. We could start at the beginning, with the Sophists.

Background 

Rhetoric goes way back to sixth century Greece, but the first study of rhetorical effects of language is generally credited to a pre-Socratic philosopher, Empedocles, around 444 B.C.E. (Bizzell and Herzberg). The part of his study that was particularly interesting was the idea that human knowledge is flawed because we are limited by our senses; however, we can work toward “probable truth” by exploring oppositions. This already sounds like modern rhetoric, right?

The first official rhetoricians, however, came from Syracuse in Sicily around 467 B.C.E. Corax and Tisias, according to our text were “the first practitioners of a schematized rhetoric” (21). Corax was an excellent speaker and taught his strategies to Tisias, among others. Tisias compiled Corax’s strategies in a handbook, and the first rhetoric textbook was born. I wonder how many of those we have now.

Scholars think Tisias was a student of Empedocles, as was Gorgias, a famous Sicilian orator who will be the focus of the next blog in this series.

Protagoras was the most famous and influential of the Sophists. He advised the famous orator Pericles, and, even though Plato and Aristotle may have disagreed with him, they took him seriously. The work Dissoi Logoi (400 B.C.E) will be explored as the fourth entry in his blog, coming in later weeks. The anonymous work explores finding probable truth via opposing arguments, which is key to the teachings of Protagoras.   

So, these guys, Protagoras, Empedocles, Corax, Tisias, and Gorgias, are among the “rock stars” of the Sophistic movement, but we should further explore what that movement was about. 

Sophistic Philosophy (A.K.A. How the Sophists Rocked) 

The Sophists were rhetoric teachers, which is significant. They apparently wandered around teaching anybody and everybody the art of rhetoric. Unfortunately, because their teachings were controversial, much of their work was destroyed. But, from what survived, we know a few things:

1. They believed truth was a matter of perception and absolute truth was something that simply was not available to humans. All we can aim for is probable knowledge, and language is how we arrive at that. The idea that there is no “transcendent” truth was extremely controversial. Some people in ancient Greece feared that, without respect for “transcendent authority,” civil order could be jeopardized. 

Sound familiar? People never change. 

2. They believed anybody and everybody could learn rhetoric and have this knowledge. This was controversial. Bizzell and Herzberg write:

[T]he Sophists taught young people that they could improve themselves via Sophistic teaching. They did not need to defer to the wisdom of their elders or social betters—self-improvement was open to anyone who could pay for it, and anyone, no matter what his or her natural endowments, could make some progress under Sophistic teaching. Hence the traditional privileges of the aristocracy were undermined. (22) 

I guess we are still struggling on this point, too. 

3. They taught a doctrine of kairos. Kairos is the idea that social, cultural, and political contexts, not transcendent truth, give us the best lenses through which to explore solutions to problems. So “truth” is simply relative. 

Sounds controversial, right? It was. It still is. And, people never change. 

4. The Sophists taught that seeing many sides of an issue was the best way to come to knowledge. This encouraged social tolerance, which was an important factor as Athens was seeing an influx in immigrants at this time. 

Seems like we need more of this right now. See? People never change. 

Perceptions of the Sophists: Isocrates and Plato 

Isocrates and Plato, of course, are significant separate of a discussion of the Sophists and will be explored in coming weeks on this blog. However, it is important to consider their reactions to the Sophists in an effort to understand why Sophistic rhetoric “lost out” in many ways and only recently experienced a revival. Ultimately, as we will see, this mainly Plato’s fault.

Isocrates and Plato lived at the same time, and both wanted to “stand out” from the Sophist crowd. However, while Isocrates saw value in what the Sophists were teaching, Plato was dead set against it. Isocrates valued the active methods of the Sophists and asserted that “truth,’” in absolute form, was not available to humans. Plato argued that rhetoric could be used to find “absolute truth,” and he went on the attack against the Sophists, calling them out for their manipulation and the fact that they took money for teaching rhetoric. Plato led the way in a campaign against the Sophists, to eliminate their power and to destroy their texts. Today, few Sophist texts survive, and Plato's perception of the Sophists has become the dominant perception.

And, today, most people have heard of Plato, as most of us likely read something Plato wrote as an undergraduate, but how many of us have learned about the Sophists? In this rhetorician’s opinion, western culture is in desperate need for a little more Sophistic philosophy. So, thanks, Plato, for all of your hard work in getting the Sophists either maligned or cut out of the history books. 

Don't get me wrong, Plato has a lot of offer, but his campaign against the Sophists did the field of rhetoric a disservice. We could all benefit from a little re-education, I think. 

Why We Need the Sophists Now 

As we have seen from history, the belief in one, absolute truth gets all of us in trouble. The problem seems clear: If people think they have and somehow own this “truth,” they do not react well to others who believe in a different “truth.” Seeing the world in dichotomies of black and white, right and wrong, has been, historically, very dangerous. I think it is important to note again that the Sophists helped improve tolerance in ancient Greece. We are still in need of tolerance.

We continue to hurt those who disagree with us, those who are different from us. It somehow seems to make it easier to bring harm to others if we can see ourselves as “good” and others as “bad.” And, even in a culture where we easily have access to information about the lives, children, homes, loves, wants, and needs of others, we have so many who seem only to focus on our differences, instead of what we all have in common.

I always tell my oldest son and my students who will listen that the only “wrong” way if thinking is thinking your way of thinking is the only right way of thinking. Yeah, we need some Sophistic thinking today.

Sadly, modern rhetoricians generally have their work cut out for them if they plan to re-educate on the Sophists. A Google search of “Sophists” brought up a wide variety of misinformation and oversimplification—ironically, something the Sophists worked against. I found this definition of “Sophistry” on a blog—a blog that was full of misinformation and oversimplification on all kinds of topics. The image below is taken from this blog site, the Stone Crab, posted May 8, 2010 and accessed April 13, 2013 from 10ksnookers.blogspot.com. However, this definition in the image below was apparently taken from dictionary.com. And, other online dictionaries provide similar definitions. The Sophists have been maligned so completely that anything relating to them is now perceived as negative--at least in the mainstream.

This misunderstanding of the Sophists reminds me of the general misunderstanding of rhetoric that I encounter so often, even in academia. There is an idea that permeates our culture that rhetoric cannot be trusted, that it is only about manipulation. Certainly, given the likes of those who use rhetoric only to push people’s buttons, to mislead, to manipulate, and for their own personal gain, this general mistrust of rhetoric is understandable. But, writing teachers can open people’s eyes to the benefits of rhetoric. A better understanding of what scholars know about the Sophists is a good start, especially since the Sophistic concept of kairos is really at the heart of modern rhetoric. 

Teaching the Sophists When We Teach Writing 

In addition to helping students open their minds to different ways of thinking, to helping them understand that their perspective is not the only perspective, teaching students about the Sophists can make them better writers. Beginning writers have a tendency to have real struggles considering audience. They often have a hard time envisioning anyone’s needs but their own, and, seeing the world in "black and white" often goes along with this. I cannot tell you how many essays I have read, essays that should appeal to a broad audience, in which the student-author could not get past her or his own significant biases.

The logic is often flawed, and the writing is just poor. When the main argument for welfare reform is based on the author’s cousin who apparently abuses the system or the main argument against abortion is a religious one, the writing is not persuasive. It is limited and could never appeal to anyone who didn’t see the world in the exact same way the student-author sees the world. And, chances are, that is a pretty limited audience, making the writing highly ineffective for a general readership.

Giving students some background in rhetoric, beginning with the Sophists, can help them begin to understand that writing is often about writing for a bigger audience than oneself. I tell my students that, unless they are writing a journal or a diary, they really have to think about how others might perceive their writing—and not just the others who are scoring a standardized essay 5, 4, 3, 2, or 1—but others who will have a personal, meaningful, emotional, logical reaction to their writing. If students are going to be effective in writing for that audience, they will have to learn to imagine what the difference in the world might look like, feel like, and think like.

Yes, the Sophists rocked! Maybe writing teachers can bring them back to their rock-star status they had in ancient Greece. We have a lot of work to do, but I, for one, certainly see the benefits.  

On Blogging on The Rhetorical Tradition

This is a picture of a book that changed my life: The Rhetorical Tradition by Patricia Bizzell and Bruce Herzberg. 

You may be wondering why, if this book is so important to me, it is so damaged. Well, my dog ate it...literally. He really ate part of it. I was so angry and upset. When I walked into the room where I had been working the night before and found my rhetoric book on the floor, partially eaten, I felt my heart break. I am still surprised at my reaction. I cried. I cried hard. I realized then how much that book had meant to me, how much that book had changed me. It was dog-eared and worn, full of notes and questions from years of use but mainly from its first use, and those notes meant everything to me.

Contrary to what you might think, I did not stay angry at my dog. After all, I did leave it on the floor, and dogs love book glue--or so the book binder says. He told me dogs keep him in business because, once a dog "gets a taste for the book glue," there is no going back. I like this book binder. I have noticed my dog lurking around the book shelves.

Of course, the good news is my rhetoric book is now with the book binder being rebound with a leather cover that will, perhaps, or so I hope, be beautiful enough to match the beautiful content. 

My story with this book began in 1997, the first year of my graduate program at Texas Woman's University. To get my Master's Degree in English, I had to take three rhetoric courses: two of them were rhetoric and composition theory courses, which were not heavily focused on rhetorical theory. 

The other rhetoric class that was required, which just so happened to be my first graduate course ever, was 20th Century Rhetorical Theory, and I was lost. We were reading from the end of The Rhetorical Tradition, which, for those who do not have the book, covers the history of rhetoric from the classical period to modern times, and I didn't know a thing about the beginning, the middle, or any of it.

I had just had my oldest son, who had colic. I was recovering from a difficult pregnancy, one so difficult that, near the end, I developed life-threatening toxemia. I was exhausted and came to school most days on about two hours sleep, covered in spit up. Honestly, I was scared to death that, somehow, having a baby had ruined my brain. I remembered learning in my women's studies classes about how, back in the day, men thought women could not handle higher education because their reproduction organs made them ignorant. In the back of my mind, because of the way I felt, I started to panic that these sexist men were somehow right. I remember thinking "Oh my God, they were right! I went stupid."

I would later understand that my inability to concentrate was, of course, related to hormones, lack of sleep, and my struggle to recover from nearly dying from the toxemia. To make matters worse, I had one of the worst professors ever! Seriously, he would have to be in the top 100 worst professors in the history of the world--at least by my standards, which, really are pretty reasonable. 

I had no frame of reference for 20th Century Rhetorical Theory, and he was not giving me any. I read diligently, spending hours pouring over the chapters the end of this book. I had not read the beginning, nor did I have time. I was spending all day, every day reading and then re-reading the works he was assigning--Burke, Fish, Cixous. I was dealing with some heady stuff with a professor who used fear and humiliation as his teaching tools. He would yell at me "That is an F answer!" when I got the answers "wrong." And, he did this in front of the other students. We know from research on the brain that learning cannot take place under duress like that. I was most certainly under duress. 

I was 21 years old, a new mom, and, generally, a good student. I was so scared of failing this class, and I could not drop it because of financial aid. Because of my toxemia, I had incompletes from the previous semester, and I was on financial aid probation. If I did not finish what I started that next semester, I could have lost my ability to get student loans, which, for me, would have meant no more education.

I had no choice but to pass the class--and I had to get at least a B. I remember looking up one evening and seeing my oldest son, so teeny tiny, asleep in his baby swing, and I realized he had been in that swing for about two hours. I had not changed his diaper before he had fallen asleep. I had been reading and reading and reading--almost in a panicked state--and I felt like a horrible mother. I cried and told him I was sorry. I am still sorry. I am about to cry as I type these words. It was an awful time. My professor was teaching chaos theory, and I was living it.

This professor finally eased up on me when my American Literature professor heard him berating me in his office one day. I did not cry in front of him, but I cried when I left. I noticed, as I walked down the hall, that my American Lit professor looked angry. I saw her get up from her desk in her office and head to my rhetoric professor's office. I do not know what she said, but the worst professor ever seemed to find someone else to pick on after that. I am forever thankful to that American Literature professor. I did not learn much about rhetorical theory that semester, but with my professor off of my back, I was able to do better. I studied so hard and memorized enough of what he said that I did well on my exams, wrote papers that were good enough to pass, and finished the course with an A. Fortunately, I am a really good test taker. I memorized the material, but I did not learn anything.

I knew I didn't know anything about rhetorical theory, and I wanted to know about it. I wanted to know about it so badly. It was a challenge, and I am such a curious person. I knew I wanted to be a writing teacher, so this rhetoric stuff was really a "must." But, more than these things, I had this suspicion that there was a "truth" in that book for me. With the exception of the worst professor in the world, I remember admiring so much the way my rhetoric professors behaved, thought, and viewed the world. I kept that book, awaiting my next rhetoric class, and after such an awful experience, I put those rhetoric classes off awhile.

In 2001, I had a new professor of rhetoric. He taught the first half of a sequence of courses in the history of rhetoric. I knew I was in better shape because this professor was good. He was my kind of professor--mild, kind, brilliant, not judgmental about students who weren't brilliant. He was sometimes tough for a novice to rhetoric like me to understand, but he would read my face and try again to be clear. He was what I needed. But I still had a really hard time with the readings. 

Every time I would move beyond some basic classical rhetoric, the writing would get so philosophical that I had a really hard time processing it. I cannot help but think that my struggles related to my background. I was a first-generation college student, and I grew up in a world of black and white, right and wrong, where truths were arrived at through the Bible. Learning things like "the truth is a relative concept" did not come naturally to me. I had to work hard to understand even the most basic concepts of rhetoric. Concepts like kairos were Greek to me on SO many levels.

Finally, I remember sitting on the floor of the living room one evening and saying to myself, "I am going to read this chapter until it makes sense." I concentrated harder than I ever remember concentrating. I read it once, twice, three times, and then it started to happen. The sense came. I felt a kind of joy that is difficult to describe, perhaps something akin to enlightenment, and I felt it all over my body. I continued to read, and read, and read. It was all making sense. The connection had been made, and there was no stopping me. I made notes in my book, meaningful notes. I had questions. I had original insight. I fell in love with the ideas in my book, The Rhetorical Tradition.

Eventually the concepts in this book would come to change my life. I came to fully understand that the world is not black and white, and that that is okay. This, in turn, would make me a better person. I was relatively meek, and coming to an understanding of the power available to me through rhetoric was an profound awakening.

So I am creating a blog to honor that book. Ironically, my dog eating my book inspired me to share my love of rhetoric with others. If it has meant so much to me, maybe it can mean something to others. I realize most people are not that keen on reading about the history of rhetoric just for fun, but, perhaps, they should be. Life is all about rhetoric. Rhetoric involves our language, our emotions, our logic. It plays a role in how we communicate professionally, with our families, with our children, online, and even on Facebook. If we all learned about rhetoric from childhood, we would all be wiser. Of course, the psychopaths would still use it to try to manipulate the masses, but the masses wouldn't stand for it. 

This blog will address every single entry in The Rhetorical Tradition, which will cover almost fifty rhetoricians--from Gorgias to Burke. In each entry, I will look back at my thinking when I originally read the material and make connections to our modern lives. How does each entry relate to religion, politics, education, relationships, spirituality, wisdom, manipulation? I will work to address those points in context of my own experiences as writing teacher, a citizen, a wife, a mom.

I hope you will enjoy it--and maybe learn something. And, while my target audience is certainly graduate students making their own way through The Rhetorical Tradition, my secondary audience is anyone who is curious about learning a little more about a field thousands of years old yet continues to be relevant today. I hope many are curious. I am pretty sure the rhetorical ideas encompassed in this book, especially when taken in as a collective, have the potential to change people.

My first blog on the Sophists will be posted next week.