Jason Palmer
This is my first semester at GSU. I am pursuing the PhD in rhet-comp to help further my career in post-secondary education. I currently teach English composition at Georgia Gwinnett College, where I have been a full-time faculty member since 2016. My academic interests include prison education programs and the development of large language models (AI). My personal working definition of rhetoric right now is the following: Rhetoric is the practice of stretching language beyond its basic functions of communication and into something aesthetically pleasing and seductive; at its best, it is the heartfelt ballad of the logical mind, and at its worst, the siren song which escapes and radiates from the black hole of human selfishness.


Phaedrus

Week 5
Phaedrus

Note: I spent too much time and effort trying to understand and comment on the first and second speeches. With both of them, I made a bad assumption that they were supposed to be good examples of speeches. The fact that I had to work so hard to make sense of them should have told me something about their effectiveness and merit, but I just assumed “user error.” I did feel somewhat redeemed in having recognized that the first speech was inferior to the second because it failed to clearly define the topic, but I still felt foolish after reading the second speech because I had continued to think it was supposed to represent a best effort or strong example from Socrates.

The Heart vs. The Mind
Love is “..a malady which no experienced person would attempt to cure” (Phaedrus). Maybe this is related to the idea/expression “hopelessly in love.” Anyone who has experienced a love that reaches levels even close to infatuation knows the irrationality that infects the heart and mind when in this state, and this why those who know it would not bother to attempt a cure on another in the throes of such passion. More importantly, we may be starting to explore the idea of how the heart is more powerful than the mind. When it comes to rhetoric, this is critical. To persuade the audience, it is often necessary to capture and lead the heart before the mind will follow.

Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt describes the relationship between the heart and the conscious rationalizing mind with the metaphor of a rider (representing the mind) on a elephant (representing the emotional driving force or subconscious). The rider is never really in control. Although, the rider can convince herself that she is. Haidt’s point is clear, and it’s application to rhetoric seems to logically follow: get the elephant’s attention and movement in your direction, and you will necessarily get the rider as well. (Haidt, The Coddling of the American Mind, 2018, p35)

Is Hindsight 20/20 when it comes to love? “And if he came to his right mind, would he ever imagine that the desires were good which he conceived when in his wrong mind?” (Phaedrus) If the lover is the type of person who believes that it is better to have loved and lost than never loved, then maybe the answer to the question Phaedrus poses is the affirmative. But plenty of heartbroken souls display the regret that Phaedrus speaks of earlier, and a regretful person does not regard those former desires as good.

“ the non lover is more his own master” (Phaedrus). Certainly this is true in terms related to Haidt’s metaphor, because the non-lover isn’t riding the powerful elephant.

Love breeds jealousy. “for his vexations are many, and he is always fancying that every one is leagued against him.” (Phaedrus) This, while true, also seems to be true in friendships and other areas of life as well. I don’t think the point is very strong as Phaedrus claims friendship is somehow immune or less susceptible to this kind of jealousy. A potential problem with Phaedrus’s speech here is that he does fully explore or clarify a definition of the love that he is speaking of. The power and degree of love one can have for a friend seems to complicate his argument. Good rhetoric should set clear definitions, and it is the fault of the rhetor when this does not take place, because the rhetor has the freedom and power and responsibility to do so.

Look out for #1! “Yet surely you ought not to be granting favours to those who besiege you with prayer, but to those who are best able to reward you;” (Phaedrus) Yikes! This kind of self-serving behavior does not align with the ideal of true love that many people have today. Is that a result of the influence of the Christian principle of self-sacrifice?

Socrates’s Reaction: “Yes, quite admirable; the effect on me was ravishing. And this I owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you while reading to be in an ecstasy, and thinking that you are more experienced in these matters than I am, I followed your example, and, like you, my divine darling, I became inspired with a phrenzy.” (Phaedrus) We can infer that this is not Socrates’s earnest reaction of the speech itself based on subsequent lines, so when he says the effect was ravishing, he is speaking of the effect he sees the speech having on Phaedrus as Phaedrus is delivering it. But is there some value in a speaker being ecstatic about the speech being delivered—regardless of the merits of the content and ideas of the speech? Can someone getting fired up about their own speech be enough to persuade the audience? If I don’t speak a particular language, and have no idea what a foreign tyrannical demagogue is saying in a speech to some followers, can I be persuaded that whatever the demagogue is saying must have validity just by the conviction I see in the speaker’s own ecstasy?

Isn’t there rhetorical power in repetition? Socrates says the repetitive nature of the speech was a detriment. I suppose when a speech lacks substance, repetition can be bad. No one wants to hear a five-minute speech turn into a 20 minute speech that says nothing new in the last 15 minutes. But I also think certain types of repetition can help to embed ideas in the audience. Where does the idea of rhetorical repetition, particularly in groups of three, come from? Aristotle?

(From GPT 3.5) Aristotle identified several forms of repetition, including:
1. Epizeuxis: This is the immediate repetition of a word or phrase for emphasis. For example, saying, "Never, never, never give up!" employs epizeuxis to emphasize the idea of persistence.
2. Anaphora: Anaphora involves the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous "I Have a Dream" speech is a powerful example of anaphora, with the repeated phrase "I have a dream" at the start of several sentences.
3. Epistrophe: Epistrophe is the opposite of anaphora. It involves the repetition of a word or phrase at the end of successive clauses or sentences. An example can be found in John F. Kennedy's inaugural address when he said, "And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country."
4. Polyptoton: Polyptoton involves the repetition of words derived from the same root but with different grammatical forms. For example, Shakespeare's line, "With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder," uses polyptoton with "feeding" and "feeder."

The uses of repetition from Aristotle are more related to style than substance, it appears. Repeating words for effect is different from repeating entire main points in different words—especially when there are not sufficient main points to support a thesis or claim.

Has Socrates never loved? Socrates claims that he is “not worthy to form an opinion” of the author’s sentiments. Is this because he has not experienced love or because he didn’t see the author deliver the speech?

It’s all derivative! “I am certain that this is not an invention of my own, who am well aware that I know nothing, and therefore I can only infer that I have been filled through the ears, like a pitcher, from the waters of another, though I have actually forgotten in my stupidity who was my informant” (Socrates in Phaedrus). Is anything we think or say truly original? Hasn’t it all been said before and somehow filtered into our ears and minds through other’s words and the culture we are exposed to? It seems safe to take Socrates’s posture that whatever we produce on our own is really just a re-formulation of ideas we absorbed elsewhere, but it is nice to be able to credit those sources.

Generative AI systems are similar to how Socrates claims to be in that they “know nothing” and have only been filled like a pitcher from the waters of another. Are there ways in which these AI systems differ from humans in this respect? Computational theory of the mind suggests our minds are not all that different from computers in how they function. The more complicated the machines get, the more they seem to be like human minds—especially in the ways the operation of the machines become more and more mysterious. Arguments against the computational theory of the mind don’t sit well with me because they don’t seem to be based on any consensus of definitions of key terms like consciousness and intelligence.

Leaving the commonplaces: Socrates says that leaving the commonplaces of an argument can lead to originality. I wonder if this only applies to main ideas (content) and not the common styles or forms of argument. Would using a new metaphor in an argument qualify as original in terms of style or substance? Is Socrates contradicting himself a bit here because he was implying that there couldn’t be originality earlier? (I feel I could have misread him on this.) Or maybe there cannot be originality of substance, but there can be originality of style—according to Socrates. Back to generative AI, are such machines capable of either type of originality? We have seen AI generate unique styles of poetry when prompted to do so, but should the prompter get the credit for the originality for initiating the “leaving of the commonplace” even if it was the machine which follows through? Could the credit for originality be shared?

Do it, old man! “…for here are we all alone, and I am stronger, remember, and younger than you Wherefore perpend, and do not compel me to use violence” (Phaedrus). Is Phaedreus really trying to compel Socrates with threats of force? It seems as if Phaedrus is offended and speaking from a place of insecurity or immaturity. He thought he had a great speech and now his reality and judgement has been challenged.

A call to the muses, reminiscent of Homer: “Come, O ye Muses,… O help me in the tale which my good friend here desires me to rehearse” (Socrates in Phaedrus).

The problem with conviction: “But people imagine that they know about the nature of things, when they don't know about them…” (Socrates in Phaedrus). What leads us to this imaginary knowledge? Overgeneralization of personal experience? Arrogance? Laziness? A desire to feel competent? A need to be right? I assume it is a mixture of those, but Socrates does seem correct with this observation, and he holds the remedy in his claim to know nothing. Humility seems to protect Socrates, while still allowing him to be curious.

In Socrates’s speech, he does a better job than Phaedrus/Lysias in defining his key terms at the outset (lover, non-lover). “Every one sees that love is a desire [division of excesses of desire], and we know also that non lovers desire the beautiful and good. Now in what way is the lover to be distinguished from the non lover?... the irrational desire which overcomes the tendency of opinion towards right, and is led away to the enjoyment of beauty, and especially of personal beauty, by the desires which are her own kindred that supreme desire, I say, which by leading conquers and by the force of passion is reinforced, from this very force, receiving a name, is called love.” (Socrates in Phaedrus)

The view of the lover from Socrates is one of a selfish animal: “As wolves love lambs so lovers love their loves.” (Socrates in Phaedrus)

The complementary nature of dialectic and rhetoric: “mere knowledge of the truth will not give you the art of persuasion.” (Socrates in Phaedrus) [without dialectic, nothing to say, without rhetoric, nothing worth listening to] But rhetoric is still powerful without truth. Is it more powerful with truth as its guide or simply more just? My hunch is that it is simply more just because plenty of false rhetoric is equally powerful or more powerful than rhetoric based on truth. One might hope that the truth has its own appeal separate from rhetoric and that competent rhetoric enhances the truth, but competent rhetoric can easily enhance the attractive falsehoods people are inclined to believe just as well.

The problem with starting at the end: “Here he appears to have done just the reverse of what he ought; for he has begun at the end…” (Socrates in Pheadrus). If the thesis is the conclusion of proper dialectic, then does Socrates assert that it has no place at the beginning of a speech? Is asking a writer to include the thesis in an introduction bad rhetoric?

Where I agree with Phaedrus: “You have too good an opinion of me if you think that I have any such insight into his principles of composition.” The speech was difficult for me to make sense of too.

Socrates’s ideas of division and generalization sound like analysis and synthesis to me. “ processes of division and generalization; they help me to speak and to think. And if I find any man who is able to see "a One and Many" in nature, him I follow, and "walk in his footsteps as if he were a god." And those who have this art, I have hitherto been in the habit of calling dialecticians.” I like that term. Did it stick? Is the philosopher a dialectician?

Rules of the Art of Rhetoric (Parts?)
the exordium, showing how the speech should begin,
Then follows the statement of facts (witnesses?)
Proofs
Probabilities
Confirmation and further confirmation
Refutation and further refutation
All of them agree in asserting that a speech should end in a recapitulation/summary to remind audience

Prodicus’s Rule: “the true rule of art, which was to be neither long nor short, but of a convenient length”

This is a good succinct summary of Gorgias and Phaedrus: “At any rate, taken as a pair, The Gorgias and The Phaedrus seem to offer an understanding of rhetoric that amounts to: know dialectic in order to discover the meaning of words and the relationships among them and thus what is good, and once you know what is good, then use rhetoric to capture an audience's assent” (Pullman). This is about how I see it. In my words, a proper attempt at dialectic should lead one toward what is true, just, and good. That search should precede rhetoric, and once the seeker is satisfied enough with the dialectic or runs out of time/patience, she can proceed with a clearer conscience in persuading others toward her position with rhetoric.