Search online for “the meaning of rhetoric,” and you’ll find the word typically defined as speech or writing intended to persuade others. Some sources list as a secondary meaning bombastic or sentimental speech and writing, often deceitful in their attempts at persuasion. “He’s just gaslighting us,” someone might say of a politician’s appearance. “It’s all just hot air and rhetoric.”
If asked, most Americans might be unable even to define rhetoric, much less explain why or how it might be studied and deployed. To fault them for their ignorance would be wrong, for with the exception of students in homeschools, classical academies, and some liberal arts colleges, most people aren’t exposed to rhetoric—neither the word nor its worth.
It wasn’t always this way. From the ancient Greeks to the first years of the 20th century, rhetoric was a part of education, just like geometry or literature. The ability to espouse a cause, to handle the English language with skill and power in writing, from a podium or even in conversation, and to entertain and enlighten your listeners was considered the mark of an educated man or woman.
A Brief Early History
In a world without electronics or the printing press, the ability to speak well—to convince a jury, to address an assembly of your fellow citizens, to rouse soldiers to war, to eulogize a friend, and much more—was considered a crucial element in education.
In ancient Greece, particularly in Athens, sophists began teaching rhetoric to the young, with a focus on winning an argument through emotional and manipulative language, sometimes at the expense of truth. Disgusted by these practices, and perhaps to polish up its image, Aristotle wrote “The Art of Rhetoric,” a guide that influenced Western oratory for the next two millennia and that even today casts its shade over this subject. Here, he set up a system of the ways and means of persuasion, like combining logic with feeling and employing different rhetorical devices that add prowess and beauty to the argument. Perhaps most importantly, he opposed the sophists by contending that truth, or at least the search for a truth, was a foundation stone for rhetorical art.
Romans like Cicero and Quintilian studied Aristotle’s text and wrote such guides themselves. Quintilian, for instance, developed a system of Five Canons of Rhetoric, leading students from developing their topics and arguments to memorization to the actual delivery of the speech itself. Like Aristotle and Cicero, his ideas and writings were studied and disseminated for centuries after his death. The bookend theologians of the Middle Ages, Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, were both well aware of the tools and uses of rhetoric, though we find them in Augustine’s writings to a far greater extent than in those of Aquinas, who aimed at a systematic examination of Christian beliefs.
A Foundation Stone of the Liberal Arts
The invention of the printing press brought a greater emphasis to rhetoric as a tool for composition as well as for oratory. Through broadsides, manifestos, and books, skilled writers could make their case for ideas that surpassed the reach and power of transient oral deliveries. From Martin Luther to John Locke and Thomas Jefferson, a teeming company of philosophers and thinkers brought rhetorical devices to their pen-and-paper arguments.
And this interest in rhetoric shaped the liberal arts as we think of them today. Even in the ancient world, teachers of rhetoric encouraged the study of poetry, language, and history not only as subjects in their own right but also as fertile fields from which to glean ideas for debate and discussion. From the 18th century up through the early 20th century, these subjects were at the heart of most American universities, with a special emphasis on rhetoric. The power of these programs may be discerned even in their trickle-down effects. Abigail Adams, for instance, often rued her lack of Latin and Greek, yet her correspondence is filled with rhetorical devices and with references to mythology, history, and literature. Abraham Lincoln had little formal schooling, and though historians frequently mention his reading of the Bible and Shakespeare, the grammar books he read and sometimes memorized in his youth also hewed his composition skills.
It is for these reasons that rhetoric was long known as the “Queen of the Liberal Arts,” and as Richard Weaver stated, “the most humanistic of all the disciplines.”
A Responsible Rhetoric
Richard Weaver (1910–1963) was an intellectual historian and scholar who taught English and rhetoric at the University of Chicago. There, he insisted on teaching freshman composition every year, hoping that these young people would develop their writing skills according to the ancient principles of his discipline.
In an address delivered just before his death, “Language Is Sermonic,” Weaver pointed out the low state into which rhetoric had fallen in modern times. At the same time, he advocated for an ethical rhetoric: not only presentations in speech and in writing that not only employ rhetorical tactics, but also a strategy that aims, in one way or another, at truth. He warned as well of the dangers we face when a speaker or writer misleads us. “As rhetoric confronts us with choices involving values,” he says, “the rhetorician is a preacher to us, noble if he tries to direct our passion toward noble ends and base if he uses our passion to confuse and degrade us.”
In a 1955 address, “A Responsible Rhetoric,” Weaver focuses on this last idea in a less technical fashion. Here, he states forthrightly: “Responsible rhetoric, as I conceive it, is a rhetoric responsible primarily to the truth.” He then gives examples of what occurs when that responsibility is ignored or deliberately shunned.
Today, the five-paragraph essay with its thesis, its three supporting arguments, and a conclusion restating the thesis—a form still taught in some classrooms today—is a fragment left from the days when rhetoric, logic, and grammar sat in the high court of the language arts.
Damages Done
By its very definition—the art of persuasion—rhetoric is with us everywhere we turn. After all, what are advertisements if not enticements to buy a certain brand of soap or a new car? An employer calls together his sales staff and exhorts them to sell more product, giving reasons for doing so and tips on increasing sales. They in turn phone their contacts and attempt to press a sale. It’s all rhetoric, but of a baser form than the one advocated by Richard Weaver and so many others.
Yet that is the form we see today in our politics. Those running for or serving in office are often walking, talking billboards made up of slogans and sound bites, but with facts and truth often concealed from the public eye.
In addition, those untrained in rhetoric may fail to detect fallacies and deceits in the positions taken by those in authority. In “Why Study Rhetoric?” Trent Leach, a teacher at a Latin school in Topeka, Kansas, nails this idea: “If I misuse grammar, I make poor sentences. If I misuse logic, I make bad arguments. But if I misuse rhetoric, I use people and lead them into all manner of falsehoods.”
Hope on the Horizon
In “Classical Rhetoric 101: An Introduction,” Kate and Brett McKay, who run The Art of Manliness website, note this same advantage, writing that the study of rhetoric makes you a better citizen, able to discern the smoke and mirrors propositions that inevitably occur, and that it “protects you from intellectual despotism.” They also dwell on the positives of this art, emphasizing the importance of the art of persuasion in our everyday dealings with such people as our employers, our friends, and our children.
In a time that labels itself the “age of communication,” rhetoric deserves a prominent place in the core curricula of education, and many schools, most of them modeled on classical education, are working toward its restoration. If their efforts eventually prove a success, producing more and more young people trained in this discipline, both our country and our culture will become vastly improved.
Jeff Minick
Author
Jeff Minick has four children and a growing platoon of grandchildren. For 20 years, he taught history, literature, and Latin to seminars of homeschooling students in Asheville, N.C. He is the author of two novels, “Amanda Bell” and “Dust On Their Wings,” and two works of nonfiction, “Learning As I Go” and “Movies Make The Man.” Today, he lives and writes in Front Royal, Va.