rhetoric is a counterpart of dialectic

8/12/2019 Rhetoric is a Counterpart of Dialectic

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/rhetoric-is-a-counterpart-of-dialectic 1/39



Philosophy and Rhetoric, Vol. 34, No. 2, 2001. Copyright © 2001 The Pennsylvania StateUniversity, University Park, PA.

113

Rhetoric is a Counterpart of Dialectic(‘H rJ htorikh v e,stin a , ntivstrofo~ t Î / dialektik Î /)

Brad McAdon

Greek philosophers who preceded Aristotle, especially Gorgias, Plato, andIsocrates, developed their respective views on persuasive discourse (or rhetoric) based upon their larger philosophical projects. Similarly, I will

argue in this essay, Aristotle developed his understanding of rhetoric as apart of his larger philosophical project. He not only equates rhetoric, inmany respects, to dialectic, but also treats it separately in the Rhetoric,perhaps as thoroughly as he treats dialectic in the Topics . In addition tothese two works, Aristotle addresses rhetorical issues in the Prior and Pos-terior Analytics , the Sophistical Refutation, the Po li ti cs , and the

Nichomachean Ethics, perhaps in a similar manner as he addresses dialec-tic in the Prior Analytics (24a22–25, 68b8–14, 46a3–10), the Sophistical

Refutation (165b1–4), the Posterior Analytics (81b18–23), and the Meta- physics (995b21–25). Moreover, the parts that comprise both rhetoric anddialectic—syllogism/enthymeme; induction/example; the respective audi-ences; and the purposes: to inquire, to argue, to persuade—all receive con-

siderable discussion throughout his logical and nonlogical works. Thesimilarities of the ways in which Aristotle discusses both rhetoric and dia-lectic and his repeated claims that rhetoric is a “counterpart to” or “out-growth of” dialectic suggest that, for Aristotle, rhetoric is very closelyrelated to dialectic, that his understanding that rhetoric may be just as mucha part of his larger project as is his dialectic—understood within the pur-poses and intended audiences of each—and further suggest that in order tounderstand his view of rhetoric, it is first necessary to understand his viewof dialectic. 1

I will attempt i n this essay to develop an understanding of Aristotle’srhetoric in relation to his dialectic. I will then attempt to situate both intotheir respective places within Aristotle’s expressed purposes for differentforms of discourse, and in respect to appropriate discourses for appropri-



114 BRAD M CADON

ate audiences. Other writers have certainly related aspects of Aristotle’srhetoric (and Rhetoric ) to aspects of his philosophy, 2 and this discussionwill draw upon some of these writers’ works, but what seems to be lackingis a relatively short discussion that presents a somewhat specific overviewof Aristotle’s demonstration, dialectic, and rhetoric in a way that clearlyillustrates his Rhetoric’ s relationship to his logical works, and that alsodelineates and intentionally draws attention to Aristotle’s understanding of the intended audiences for each of his discourses. This essay is such anattempt.

After initially setting the stage for the discussion of Aristotle’s viewof rhetoric in respect to his views of demonstration and dialectic (thoseother forms of discourse that he carefully developed for expressing his

understanding of reality) by briefly discussing how Gorgias’s, Plato’s, andIsocrates’ views of persuasive discourse are inherently related to their larger understandings of what is, I will present Aristotle’s views on demonstra-tion and dialectic and their respective parts. I will then discuss the rela-tionship between Aristotle’s dialectic and his rhetoric . My discussion willinclude a look at the term a

, ntivstrofo~ , an analysis of the similarities and

differences between dialectic and rhetoric, and a consideration of howAristotle’s enthymeme fits into his rhetorical scheme; in this consideration,I will engage others who, I will argue, have given some but not enoughconsideration or no consideration at all to the intended audience of therhetorical discourse in developing their understanding of the enthymeme .After these aspects have been considered, I will summarize t he discussionup to that point and then offer a conclusion in which I will assert thatAristotle intended his Rhetoric to be an important discussion that attemptsto contribute to the relatively new discipline of rhetoric a theory of persua-sion that is derived, in part, from his t heory of proofs; that he understandsrhetoric to be an important part of his understanding of discourse, perhapsas important a part as his dialectic, each understood within their intended

purposes and intended part icipants and/or audiences ; and that his rhetori-cal “theory” must be understood, as he seems to suggest, in respect to hisconcept of dialectic.

P. Albert Duhamel suggested fifty years ago that t he content of theidea of rhetoric is dependent upon the epistemology, psychology, andmetaphysic of the system in which it occurs. The rhetorical, he claimed, isdetermined by the epistemological. The rhetorician’s conception of the valueof argument, the process of invention by which arguments are to be dis-covered, the extent to which the devices of elocution are to be employed, is



115RHETORIC IS A COUNTERPART OF DIALECTIC

the result of his evaluation of the reliability of the intellect, the nature andavailability of truth, and the existence of certitude (1949, 345). Comment-ing upon the classical rhetoricians, Duhamel based his claim upon the no-tion that all ancient rhetoricians or theorists of rhetoric have had only oneobject—the teaching of effective expression—and that an author’s termsand purposes are meaningful only “within t he context of the author’s sys-tem taken as a whole” (344). Adopting Duhamel’s claim as a (but not theonly) guiding principle, I believe a good place to begin the discussion of the importance of understanding Aristotle’s rhetoric within his larger projectis to briefly summarize the philosophical context of rhetoric with whichAristotle would have been acquainted—as represented by Gorgias, Plato,and Isocrates.

Aristotle attests in the Sophistical Refutations —which, it has beenargued, was appended to the Topics by later editors and understood by manyto have been meant as an appendix to it by Aristotle himself—that he wasacutely aware of the continuous discoveries in respect to rhetorical prac-tices that preceded him. After pointing out that those who discovered therhetorical art advanced it “only a little way,” he continues that the contem-porary celebrities are the heirs of a long succession of men who have ad-vanced it bit by bit, and so have developed it to its present form (183b25–33).Aristotle employs the term rhetorical arts (tou;~ rJhtorikou;~) here in asense that would suggest that the use of the term was itself already wellestablished. 3 We know that Plato uses the te rm early in his Gorgias, whereinhe, through Socrates, complains that Gorgias, as a rhetorician, was moreconcerned with probability than with truth, and that, through the “power of words,” he was able to make “great things seem small, new things old, oldthings new,” and who “invented conciseness of speech and measurelesslength on all subjects” ( Gorgias 167a–b). Another example of Plato’s criti-cism of Gorgias’s antithesis between truth and probability is advanced bySocrates a little further along in the dialogue—“he who is to be a compe-tent rhetorician need have nothing at all to do, they say, with truth in con-sidering things which are just or good, or men who are so, whether bynature or by education. For in the courts, they say, nobody cares for truthabout these matters, but that which is convincing; and that is probability,so that he who is to be an artist in speech must fix his attention upon prob-ability” (272d). The problem here, however, is that Plato’s criticism failsto recognize that Gorgias’s view of rhetoric is predicated on diametricallyopposed concepts. Whereas Plato, at times, represented the view that ideasand knowledge had an immutable nature 4 and that those natures could be



116 BRAD M CADON

determined and accurately understood by the language used to explain them,Gorgias espoused the view that concepts were best understood when their antithetical natures were explored, comprehended, and appreciated.

An example of Gorgias’s antithetical approach is evident in his open-ing lines from The Encomium of Helen

For a city, the finest adornment is a good citizenry, for a body beauty, for asoul wisdom, for an action arete , and for a speech truth; and the opposites of these are indecorous. A man, woman, speech, deed, city or action that is wor-thy of praise should be honored with acclaim, but the unworthy should bebranded with blame. For it is equally error and ignorance to blame the praise-worthy and praise the blameworthy. (Gagarin and Woodruff 1995, 191)

His use of the terms—a good citizen , beauty , wisdom , arete , truth (and theinference to their opposites), and acclaim/blame , and praiseworthy/blame-worthy —illustra tes his prac tice of comparing terms antithetically. Simi-larly, his understanding of speech demonstrates the same diametriccharacteristics—“Speech is a powerful master that achieves the most di-vine feats with the smallest and least evident body. It can stop fear, relieve

pain , create joy , and increase pity ” (192). It is this diametrically opposedemphasis between joy and fear, grief and pity, that, for Gorgias , describesthe power of speech. There is no attempt, on his part, to understand theessence or nature of the thing, speech ; he seeks only to provide a descrip-tion of it by way of opposing characteristics. Plato, however, seems to havein mind Gorgias, or at least the school of thought with which Gorgias is

associated, when, in the Phaedrus , he has Socrates query his interlocutor as to how effectively one can truthfully demonstrate an idea by discussingthe similarity and dissimilarity of something without knowing the truthabout that which he is discussing. He concludes that “those whose opin-ions are at variance with facts and who are deceived, this error evidentlyslips in through some resemblances,” and, thus, the speaker and the audi-ence both become deceived (272b–c).

While Gorgias developed a nonformal, epistemological system basedupon what can be reductively called a kind of relativism from which hisview of rhetoric necessarily followed, Plato assailed against what he con-sidered to be Gorgias’s incorrect use of language (his rhetoric ) as opposedto what he considered to be his more correct understanding of language’suse through a primitive and constructed dialectic. The Republic offers ex-amples of Plato’s dialectic and those who practiced it, and he claims thereinthat all the other arts have opinions and desires of men as their object, but




those who are “to determine in all cases what each thing really is” are torely upon nothing else than hJ tou` dialevgesqai duvnami~ (“the power of dialecting”), that the dialectician is the one who is able to exact an accountof the essence ( oujsiva~) of each thing (534B ff.), and that the students of the ideal state “will give special heed to the discipline that will enablethem to ask and answer questions in the most scientific ( eJpisthmonevstata )manner” (534D–E). Moreover, it is the dialectical method that allows Plato’sphilosopher to deduce either up to or down from first principles ( ajrch;n)and, in the ideal state, it is ( oiJ peri; ta~ gewmetriva~ te kai; logismou;~kai; ta toiau`ta pragmateuo;menoi ) “those who are laboring concerninggeometry and reasoning and other such things” who work from initial pos-tulates that “are obvious to everyone” and, after taking their starting point

from these, “pursue the inquiry from this point on consistently and con-clude with that for the investigation of which they set out” (510C–D). AsPlato represents it, these dialecticians are the philosophers who have beenenamored with a certain knowledge that reveals to them something of thatessence ( oujsiva~) which is eternal, and they are the ones who pursue thatparticular science ( ejpisthvmh) which attempts to understand the to; o[n (be-ing ), rather than to concern themselves with those matters based upon do;xa(opinion ) (485B–87A, 501–11, 477B–78A). This “dialectic” of Plato’s, aspresented in the dialogues, however, must be considered cautiously, for rather than functioning as a valid form of dialectic, of valid questioningand answering on the part of two independent thinkers, Plato clearly con-structed the characters of the interlocutors and their arguments to promotehis own point of view, and he did so through a more formal system of language and its use that adhered to his more formally construed notion of the eternal and absolute forms. Thus, Plato’s and Gorgias’s basic conceptof knowledge (epistemology) differ as radically as their different approachesto expressing these concepts, but both writers’ views of “rhetoric” are deeplyembedded within their larger philosophical projects.

As a student of Gorgias and in competition with Plato for studentswho would attend his school rather than Plato’s Academy, Isocrates alsogrounded his view of persuasive discourse within his philosophical “sys-tem.” In fact, it is difficult to distinguish his conception of oratory from hisconception of philosophy; according to Isocrates, rather than wasting timetracking down the first principles, which he thought to be a fruitless en-deavor, 5 the purpose of philosophy is to train the young to become elo-quent in speech because it is speech that distinguishes mankind from theanimals and it is the proper use of speech that contributes most to the prac-tical and beneficial needs of society.



118 BRAD M CADON

The practical nature of Isocrates’ philosophical project is especiallyclear in his introductory thoughts in the Panathenaicus , which he begancomposing in his ninety-fourth year in defense of his educational philoso-phy and civic actions. After excluding those who study the arts ( tevkna~),sciences ( evpisthvma~), and specialties ( dunamvei~), he explains that thosehe considers to be educated are those who manage well the circumstancesthat they encounter daily, those who demonstrate sound judgment in thesame, those who are decent and honorable in their daily intercourse andendeavors, those who are reasonable, those who control their pleasures,those who are not unduly overcome by their misfortunes, and, most impor-tant of all, those who are not overcome by their success (30–32). The meansof achieving this end, for Isocrates, is through the acquisition of speech,

for he argued that “people can become better and worthier if they conceivean ambition to speak well, if they become possessed of the desire to beable to persuade their hearers, and, finally, if they set their hearts on seiz-ing their advantage,” and advantage is understood by Isocrates as thoseactions that stem from a love of wisdom (filosoVfw~ ) and the love of honor ( filoti Vmw~) ( Antidosis 276–78). Moreover, the ability to speak well alsoreflects the ability to think well, and Isocrates understands that these twocapacities—good thinking and good speaking—are the basis of a success-ful society, for by them the ignorant can be educated, the laws can be laid,and the character of those who compose society can be enhanced becausethe discourse that is true and lawful and just, that these citizens will ac-quire from his system, will lead to the outward image of a good and faith-ful soul. Thus, like Gorgias’s and Plato’s, Isocrates’ view of persuasivediscourse is inextricably linked to his philosophical enterprise.

It is within this context of earlier writers that the development of Aristotle’s rhetoric must be considered. As was mentioned above, Aristotleclaimed that practitioners and theoreticians of rhetoric preceded him. Inthe same passage in the Sophistical Refutations in which he makes thisclaim (183b25–33), he also boasts that the case was different in respect todialectic and that he, himself, was the first to theorize dialectical prac-tice—which he later claims to be the “counterpart” ( ajntiVstrofon ) to rheto-ric. So, what Aristotle probably means i n Sophistical Refutations is that hedeveloped dialectic, or deduction, into its current form with its accompa-nying terms as he spells them out in the Prior Analytics, the Posterior

Analytics, and the Topics . Therefore, the following discussion of Aristotle’sdialectic will begin from the premise that he did develop his dialectical




Rhetor ic —“ tovte g r pisteuvomen mavlista o{tan ajpodedei`cqai uJpolavbwuen [for we believe most when we suppose [or take up by gettingunder] [a thing] to have been proven]” (1355a6). This subordinate clauseis interesting in that it suggests, by its main verb— suppose , or take up bygetting under —the extent to which proof is embraced by the taking hold of that which is offered as proof. This is the sense, it seems, in which Aristotleemploys the term, for, as noted above, he understands demonstrative un-derstanding to be scientific, and because it is scientific, its principles or starting points, for deductive demonstration, must necessarily depend upontwo things—they must be true and they must be primitive (71b20–21).

Hence, the starting point of an Aristotelian demonstrative deduction(sullogismos ) is the principle (ajrchv), or immediate proposition (or, premise)

and according to the Posterior Analytics , all demonstrative first principlesmust initially be true and primitive (or, immediate )—they must be not onlytrue and without any prior principle, but also more familiar than , prior to,and explanatory of the conclusion . Before addressing the first four aspectsof an Aristotelian demonstrative deduction, I want to note that the finalaspect— explanatory of the conclusion —can be explained by the fact that ,for Aristotle, there is a distinction between understanding a fact and under-standing why it is a fact (78a22 ff.). Aristotle is concerned that one canestablish something, through demonstration, as so , without being able toexplain why it is so. His astronomical example in Posterior Analytics 78a35– 38 illustrates this distinction through two syllogisms:

Every planet is a non-twinkler Every non-twinkler is near.Therefore, every planet is near.

Every planet is near.Everything near is a non-twinkler.Therefore, every planet is a non-twinkler.

In the first syllogism, where non-twinkler is the middle term, the syllogismproves that the planets are near, but it does not explain why they are near.Aristotle explains that “this deduction is not of the reason why , but of thefact; for it is not because they do not twinkle that they are near, but becausethey are near they do not twinkle” (78a36–38). Yet, by simply changingthe middle term, the syllogism becomes an explanatory deduction “of thereason why for the primitive explanation has been assumed” (78b2). Thus,the middle term is the key for first principles to be explanatory .

V

a



122 BRAD M CADON

Returning to the other four characteristics of the first principles— true, primary , better known , and prior , we are confronted with the problemof understanding how first principles are true, primary, better known, andprior. The most serious problems here are that if all knowledge is deter-mined by demonstration, and if demonstration is dependent upon first prin-ciples, which are primary, then we would end up with an infinite regress inrespect to determining these primary first principles. Second, if all knowl-edge comes from demonstration, then first principles, too, would need tobe determined from demonstration, and this would result in circular rea-soning. Aristotle considers and rejects both of these considerations in Pos-terior Analytics 1.3. He disregards the first claim, of those who contendthat all things need to be demonstrated, by arguing that not all things need

to be demonstrated, and he infers that there is a stopping point—first prin-ciples, which do not need to be demonstrated (72b8–14)—and in Meta-

physics G he is more articulate about the problem: “[F]or it is impossiblethat there should be demonstration of absolutely everything; there wouldbe an infinite regress, so that there would still be no demonstration”(1006a8–9). The second argument that Aristotle rejects is that held by thosewho claimed that every scientific proposition could be demonstrated byreciprocal or circular proof—that A is B because B is A, for “demonstrationmust depend on what is prior and more familiar; for it is impossible for thesame things at the same time to be prior and posterior to the same things”(72b25–28). If, then, first principles cannot be demonstrated circularly and,in fact, do not even need to be demonstrated, the problem becomes deter-mining how we arrive at first principles.

Aristotle proffers a solution, of sorts, to this dilemma. Posterior Analytics 2.19 (99b15 ff.) seems to offer a process by which these firstprinciples can be known. He begins his discussion by rejecting the notionthat we would have an innate understanding of them as absurd, but thenexplains that we all possess some capacity that will be more valuable thaneither innate knowledge or developing them [the first principles] from ig-norance. This capacity is sense perception, and the process he outlines is,in a very truncated form, this: I perceive something, and I remember theperception, and this will lead to experience from which a principle of skill(if it deals with how things come about) and a principle of understanding(if it deals with what is the case) will follow. Marc Cohen summarizes thisprocess:




There is nothing rationalistic about II.19’s account of the acquisition of firstprinciples. Our knowledge of first principles is not demonstrative (i.e., it isnot deduced from other knowledge) , but it is not innate either. Nor is it ga inedby a direct mental grasping of something that is sel f-evident. Rather, we movefrom individual cases, beginning with perception, to a grasp of the universal,by means of a process Aristotle calls epagoge . This is usually translated asinduction , although not every interpreter thinks that what he has in mind iswhat we understand as inductive inference. (1998, 16)

By this process, Aristotle seems satisfied that knowledge of first principlescan be attained (perhaps through induction). Accordingly, Aristotle is con-tent that first principles, which are known through this process, will meethis four requirements of true, primitive, prior, and better known. Exactly

how this works is not at all clear, but what seems to be more clear is thatAristotle understood from this that first principles for the scientific fieldsof study could be determined, and these were to be understood to be true,primitive, prior, and better known, and that it was from these principlesthat demonstration was to begin.

In addition to the fact that demonstration attempts to prove and ex-plain from first principles, which are true and primary, in a certain formu-laic structure that will achieve the desired conclusion, they also are confinedto their particular sciences—one first principle for one genus cannot alsobe the first principle for another genus (88b20–21, 76a31 ff., and 77a20ff.). Also, demonstrative propositions deduce from (possibly) i nductivelydetermined first principles, which are known and accepted within their re-

spective science and attempt to prove a conclusion, in a monological, di-dactic manner from that principle rather than to engage in other aspects of the issue at hand, and those who engage in demonstrative deduction wouldseem to be those within these respective sciences.

The essential problem with the preceding view, which suggests thatAristotle proposes that first principles are understood through some kindof sense-perception, is that there also seems to be a more scientific or tech-nical element to Aristotle’s discussion within the Posterior Analytics thatwould argue against such an empirical approach to understanding first prin-ciples. Since this more scientific approach would require something other than sense perception as the means of determining first principles, somehave suggested that Aristotle’s dialectic is t he means toward a more theo-retical or systematic understanding of the first principles. Terence Irwin isthe principle spokesperson of this particular view and his position will bebriefly considered.



124 BRAD M CADON

Irwin begins from Topics 101a35. Earlier in this second chapter of book 1 of the Topics , Aristotle argued that “the treatise” ( Topics ) is usefulfor intellectual training, casual encounters, and the philosophical sciences,and at 101a35 he expands upon why the treatise is useful for the philo-sophical sciences “because the ability to puzzle on both sides of a subjectwill make us detect more easily the truth and error about the several pointsthat arise.” Irwin understands from this that “Aristotle cites the dialectician’scapacity to examine the puzzles as the primary reason for thinking he cancontribute to the discovery of first principles” (1988, 40). Irwin relates thispassage to Metaphysics B (995a27–64) and argues that this problem of de-termining first principles by sense perception is an ajporiva (difficulty or

puzzle ) and it is the dialectician’s responsibility to resolve these ajporivai;

hence, by using dialectic to solve these ajporivai of the first principles,dialectic is a “path to the principles of all inquiries” (101b3; Irwin 1988,67). If dialectic is the means of understanding first principles, then it seemsdialectic would be the key to Aristotle’s philosophical method. An exami-nation of what Aristotle says about dialectic should help to determine itsrole within his philosophical methodology.

As was noted above, in Posterior Analytics 1 (71a1–11), Aristotledistinguished between demonstrative, dialectical, and rhetorical deductions.If, as Irwin suggests, Aristotle’s dialectic is a path toward first principles,his dialectical deductions should exhibit those characteristics that wouldlead one to first principles. Primarily, this would entail that the principleswith which dialectic concerns itself should in some way be true and primi-tive. A method of determining this is by examining what Aristotle has saidin respect to dialectical deductions.

Whereas Aristotle claims that demonstration deduces from first prin-ciples that are true and primitive, he seems also to clearly assert that dia-lectic does not , in fact, work from such first principles. Rather, dialecticaldeductions begin from e[ndoxon. Though this is another term that is diffi-cult to define, the general understanding seems to be t hat an e[ndoxon is acommonly held belief. Yet, lexically, it seems to carry more a connotationof “held in esteem,” “of high repute,” and of things “notable” (Liddell andScott 1996, 561) than its cognate dovxa, which carries the meaning of “no-tion,” “opinion,” or “judgment” (444). Aristotle distinguishes between adeduction from demonstration and a deduction from dialectic early in theTopics . After asserting that “a deduction is an argument in which, certainthings being laid down, something other than these necessarily comes aboutthrough them,” he continues that it is a demonstration “when the premises




from which the deduction starts are true and primitive, or are such that our knowledge of them has originally come through premises which are primi-tive and true; and it is a dialectical deduction, if it reasons from reputableopinions (endoxa)” (100a25–29). Likewise, in Posterior Analytics 1.19,he claims that “those who are deducing with regard to opinion and onlydialectically clearly need only inquire whether their deduction comes aboutfrom the most reputable propositions possible; so that even if there is not,in truth, any middle term for AB but there seems to be, anyone who de-duces through this has deduced dialectically” (81b18–21; cf. 995b21–25).Another indication that dialectical deductions are derived from e[ndoxarather than from true or primary principles is the fact that the dialecticianmust draw his arguments from the opinions held by the answerer or oppo-

nent of the dialectical exchange, whereas for the demonstrator/philosopher “[d]idactic [demonstrative] arguments are those that deduce from the prin-ciples appropriate to each subject and not from the opinions held by theanswerer (for the learner must be convinced); dialectical arguments arethose that deduce from reputable premisses” ( Sophistical Refutations165b2–4).

This discussion of e[ndoxa would be insufficient if it were not toaddress the problem of whose views are to be considered e[ndoxan, repu-table. Aristotle has much to say about reputable opinions and those whohold them, but I will begin with what is commonly understood as his de-finitive passage: “[T]hose opinions are reputable which are accepted byeveryone, or by the wise—i.e., by all, or by the majority, or by the mostnotable and reputable of them” (100b20–22). Irwin and others define

e[ndoxa, as used here, as “to suggest that something is widely held and thatit is also respectable, with something to be said for it ” (1988, 494 n. 42). If this is the sense of e[ndoxa in this passage, then, as Smith notes, this would,indeed, create a “jumble” of meanings, for it would be difficult to distin-guish what e[ndoxa is to be held. In response to this confused reading, Smithsuggests that what Aristotle is doing here is not defining e[ndoxa, but clari-fying what varieties of e[ndoxa there are: “[O]ne kind is the opinions of everyone, one kind the opinions of the majority of people, one kind theopinions of the wise, etc. Collecting these various groups of e[ndoxa wouldbe useful to a dialectician who needed to put forward premises likely to beaccepted by various respondents” (1993, 346). Smith contends that thepurpose of developing premises, the immediate context of the passage, isto have premises that the opponents will concede, and the best way to de-



126 BRAD M CADON

velop these is to know the wide range of possible groups with whom onewould argue in dialectical competition (346).While Smith’s interpretation seems sound for the passage under con-

sideration, other passages in which Aristotle discusses (reputable) opin-ions seem to suggest that there are views from some that are worthier thanothers. One such passage comes early in the Eudemian Ethics :

To examine then all the views held about happiness is superfluous, for chil-dren, sick people, and the insane all have views, but no sane person woulddispute over them; for such persons need not argument but years in whichthey may change, or else medical or political correction—for medicine, noless than whipping, is a correction. Similarly, we have not to consider theviews of the multitude (for they talk without consideration about almost ev-

erything, and most about happiness); for it is absurd to apply argument tothose who need not argument but experience. But since every study has itsspecial problems, evidently there are such relating to the best life and bestexistence; it is well to examine these opinions. (1214b29–15a5)

A similar passage is found in Metaphysics G (1006a 14–15): “It is absurdto attempt to reason with one who will not reason about anything, in so far as he refuses to reason. For such a man, as such, is seen already to be nobetter than a mere plant” (see also 105a2–7, 170b6–8, and 1145b1–5). Thus,in addition to the different varieties of e[ndoxa to be considered by thedialectician, it seems clear that Aristotle also distinguishes hierarchies of opinions, and he seems pretty clear that not all opinions comprise this as-

pect of e[ndoxa.Another difference between dialectical and demonstrative deductionis that, whereas in demonstration the demonstrator (didactician) should notask questions, but should make things clear for himself, the dialecticianshould merely ask questions (171a38b–b2). Again, Aristotle is very clear that “no art that is a method of proving the nature of anything proceeds byasking questions,” but “dialectic does proceed by asking questions” (172a15–20; my emphasis; see also 77a32–35 and esp. 171b3 ff.). This relation-ship of the dialectician to questioning and answering seems to stem natu-rally from the nature of dialectic as proposed in the Topics . After spendingconsiderable time in the early books of the Topics explaining aspects of thecategories, and of deduction, and of places ( topoi ) from which arguments

stem, Aristotle, in book 8, clearly writes within a context in which the prac-tice of dialectical questioning and answering is already understood, and hefurther instructs his audience, very specifically, on how to conduct them-selves in a dialectical exercise, as the opening lines suggest:




Next, there fall to be discussed the problems of arrangement and method inputting questions. Any one who intends to frame questions must, first of all,select the ground from which he should make his attack; secondly, he mustframe them and arrange them one by one to himself; thirdly, and lastly, hemust proceed actually to put them to the other party. Now, so far as the selec-tion of his ground is concerned, the problem is one alike for the philosopher and the dialectician; but how to go on to arrange his points and frame hisquestions concerns the dialectician only; for in every problem of that kind areference to another party is involved. Not so with the philosopher, and theman who is investigating by himself: the premisses of his reasoning, althoughtrue and familiar, may be refused by the answerer because they lie too near the original statement and so he foresees what will follow if he grants them;but for this the philosopher does not care. (155a40–b13)

This passage illustrates many aspects of dialectic. Initiall y, it is clear thatthe dialectician is in the business of asking questions, rather than statingpropositions (as the philosopher/demonstrator does). Second, this is an in-ternal process, which the dialectician is to conduct before he confronts hisopponent. Third, he must present his questions to another party. There isno indication here that the other party is at all required to accept thesequestions as presented (165b1), whereas the philosopher/demonstrator isnot at all required to present his propositions to anyone in any fashion inwhich he would need to be concerned with this. Also, a little further alongin this passage, Aristotle instructs his blossoming dialectician in how to beable to obstruct the adversary in the dialectical exchange from determiningto what conclusion the deduction is headed, by altering the sequence/mat-ter of the premises/questions of the deduction.

Closely related to the questioning and answering aspect of dialecticis the propositional aspect of both dialectic and demonstration. Aristotledefines a proposition as “a statement affirming or denying something of something” (24a16), and he further distinguishes between a demonstrativeand dialectical proposition. A demonstrative proposition is “the assump-tion of one [the true and primary] of two contradictory statements” (thedemonstrator does not ask for his premiss, but lays it down), whereas adialectical proposition “chooses between two contradictories” (24a21–25).Thus, the demonstrator begins from a true and primitive first principle of aspecific field, without the luxury of deciding which side of an issue topursue as is available to the dialectician, who is encouraged to argue fromboth sides of the issue. Moreover, Aristotle seems to be very clear that thedemonstrator (didactician) should not ask questions when demonstrating,but, rather, should make himself very clear (171a 38–b2, and, especially,



130 BRAD M CADON

ric is the counterpart ( ajntivstrofon ) of cookery—it is detrimental to thesoul of the state (politics) (465).It is to this conception of rhetoric in Plato’s Gorgias , at least in part

it seems, that Aristotle is responding in his Rhetoric .8 In the Gorgias , Platodetrimentally labels rhetoric as a semblance of a branch of politics, claimsthat rhetoric is irrational, and argues that rhetoric is an ajntivstrofon of cookery. It is surely not by coincidence alone that Aristotle, in the earlychapters of the Rhetoric , addresses these claims. As mentioned above, it ispossible that the concept of rhetoric as a discipline was relatively new, andas Aristotle seems to have been in the practice of beginning his discussionsof issues by initially considering what others have said about them 9 ( e[ndoxa)(although he does not directly refer to Plato as he refers to others in other

discussions), it is reasonable, it seems, to suggest that, much as in the Top-ics , he was writing to an audience who was already familiar, to some de-gree at least, with the issues to be discussed, and, by making reference torhetoric as a counterpart to dialectic, Aristotle seems to be suggesting thatrhetoric is something other than what Plato, who earlier considered rheto-ric a counterpart to cookery, deemed it to be. Moreover, as Jonathan Barnesindicates, the question of whether rhetoric was an art or a technical subjectwas a question which was not yet settled prior to Aristotle ( Rhetoric 259– 60), and, as will be seen, Aristotle seems to attempt to address this ques-tion as well.

To what extent Aristotle considered rhetoric to be a counterpart todialectic is the next issue to consider. In the first chapter of the Rhetoric ,Aristotle claims that both rhetoric and dialectic are concerned with mattersthat come from the general doings of men and do not belong to any par-ticular science (1354a3, 1355b8–9), as demonstration does. He also assertsthat rhetoric is an offshoot ( parafuev~ ), a branch ( movriovn) of, and similar (oJmoivwma) to dialectic (1356a30–34). This first term, parafuev~ , is a bio-logical term of sorts, for it indicates the sucker or offshoot of a plant, or thebranch of a vein in an animal. Aristotle uses it in the History of Animals inhis discussion of a lobster in explaining the delicate appendages(parafuesin ) that are near the lobster’s mouth (526a29). Similarly, movrionconveys a sense of close relationship, since it is defined as a “constituentpart,” “member,” or “members or parts of the body.” Aristotle uses theterm in his discussion of what “parts” are—“The elements into which thekind might be divided apart from the quantity, are also called parts of it(movria)” ( Metaphysics 1023b18), and oJmoivwma connotes the idea of “makelike,” “correspond,” “likeness,” and “image.” Plato employs the term in




this last sense in referring to the “likenesses” of the things of the other world ( Phaedrus 250A). Thus, Aristotle seems to be saying that rhetoric,at least in some respects, has a very close, perhaps biologically linked,affinity to dialectic.

One of these semblances is that, as a mode of persuasion, rhetoric isa sort of demonstration, for Aristotle claims, “It is clear, then, that the tech-nical study of rhetoric is concerned with the modes of persuasion. Proof [ hJpivsti~ ] is a sort of demonstration [ ajpovdeixiv~ ti~] (since we are mostfully persuaded when we consider a thing to have been demonstrated)”(1355a4–6). It is of preliminary importance here to notice the distinctionthat Aristotle is making between rhetorical proof ( pivsti~ ) and demonstra-tive proof ( ajpovdeixi~), for whereas the demonstrative “proof ” is appli-

cable to the discussion of certain scientific [ ejpisthvmh] fields, for rhetoric,Aristotle applies the term pivsti~ , which connotes, rather than a sense of proof, as was demonstrated above for ajpovdeixi~, a sense of confidence ,trust , assurance , and in a weaker sense argument or proof . (This will befurther discussed below when pavqo~ and h[qo~ are considered.)

Aristotle continues, in the Rhetoric, to say that the orator’s demon-stration is the enthymeme , and this term now demands consideration, butbefore considering Aristotle’s use of the term, it seems helpful to reviewits confirmed, prior, and contemporaneous use. Sophocles (496–406/5B.C .E .), in Oedipus at Colonus , which was not performed until several yearsafter his death (in 401), has Oedipus, the now-exiled king of Thebes, presentan argument to the Chorus at Colonus in an effort to save himself fromexile from Athens. Oedipus argues that the former crime he committed was“in self defense,” that he ought not to be rejected, and that the people ought“not to be unjust” (258–92). To this, the Chorus responds: “There is everynecessity, aged man, to regard with awe the thoughts [ tajnqumhvmata] thatcome from you, for they have been expressed in no light words; and I amcontent that the rulers of this land should decide this matter” (293–95).Notice here that the enthumemata refers to the preceding argument, toOedipus’s appeal to reasons why he should not be exiled. Also, it is note-worthy that the term is used in a context in which a decision needs to bemade and for which there i s no “decisive” proof .10

Isocrates’ (436–338 B.C .E .) use of the term provides a similar denota-tion. In his preparation to eulogize Evagoras, king of Cyprus, he mentionsthat the poets are allowed to embellish language by representing gods con-versing with men and gods engaging in battles, but that t his is not the casefor the philosopher/rhetor. On the contrary, he claims,



132 BRAD M CADON

Orators are not permitted the use of such devices; they must use with preci-sion only words in current use and only such ideas ( ejnq umhvmasin) as bear upon the actual facts. Besides, the poets compose all their works with meter and rhythm, while the orators do not share in any of these advantages; andthese lend such charm that even though the poets may be deficient in style(th‘/ levxei) and thoughts ( ejnqumhvmasin), yet, by the very spell of their rhythmand harmony, they bewitch their listeners. (190d–91a)

In his Panathenaicus , “published” in 339, he not only employs the term todistinguish between thought and style, but also seems to use it with a senseof proof , for he says that he left aside all the “stylistic flares” and devotedhimself to giving advice to the true interests of Athens and to extollingupon the virtues and qualities of the Hellenes by “writing in a style rich in

many enthumemasin ” (pallw`n ejnqumhmavtwn)—a style rich in manythoughts (233a). The context of the Panathenaicus conveys that these “manythoughts” were aspects of Hellenic culture that Isocrates thought served as

proofs of the Hellenes’ superiority over other cultures. This same idea isechoed in the Antidosis, where he claims that his speeches praising Hel-lenic culture not only set forth facts in a style ( levxei) more imaginativeand more ornate, but also employ thoughts ( ejnqumhvsin) that are “morelofty and more original” (49). In these examples from Isocrates (see also

Against the Sophists 294d), there is a distinction between thought and style ;these are either uses of the term that denote thought, proof , or, as in thecase of Sophocles, as M. F. Burnyeat points out, a consideration wherebyone is swayed by “reflection on an issue where conclusive argument is not

to be had” and these examples of the enthymeme “do not invite one tosupply material the speaker left out, but on the contrary to attend seriouslyto what the speaker said” (1994, 12).

Xenophon, a contemporary of Isocrates (born c. 430), uses the termenthumema at least twice in his Anabsis (date uncertain), and one examplewill convey the denotation of both of its uses. In 3.5, Xenophon relates thatafter troops returned from burning the enemy’s provisions, the general andleaders were gathered in “great despondency,” for they were facing thedilemma of steep mountains on one side and a river too deep to cross onthe other. In the midst of their “perplexity,” one came forward who claimedto be able to advance them across the river if they would meet his de-mands. This plan included binding the skins of sheep, goats, and cattletogether with the girths from the “beasts of burden” and constructing anapparatus by which the men could float across the river. Upon hearing theman’s plan, “the generals thought that while the idea [ ejnquvmhma] was a




clever one, the execution of it was impossible,” and they decided to marchout in the reverse direction (3.5.12). 11

While discussing contemporary uses of enthymeme , it should bepointed out that, although William M. A. Grimaldi, in “Studies in the Phi-losophy of Aristotle’s Rhetoric” (1972) suggests that “if we are to discover what Aristotle intended by the word [ enthymeme ] we must do so primarilyin his own writings” (69), he goes on to claim (without any evidence) that

Anaximenes was the author of the Rhetorica ad Alexandrum , to date the Rhetorica ad Alexandrum as contemporaneous or even prior to Aristotle’s Rhetoric , and then goes on to suggest that “Aristotle would also agree ingeneral with Anaximenes . . . that the enthymeme is the source of probableknowledge” (79–80). This seems to assume far too much, for, apart from

the problem of whether or not Aristotle would agree with the writer of Rhetorica ad Alexandrum ’s understanding of the enthymeme, we do noteven know for sure who wrote Rhetorica ad Alexandrum or when it waswritten—before or after Aristotle’s text. Without such confirmation, i t seemsdubious, at best, to attribute such importance to the text as Grimaldi doesin determining Aristotle’s use of the enthymeme, and I do not think it isnecessary, for, as will now be considered, I think that Aristotle’s under-standing of the enthymeme can be understood by his use alone and that hisuse of the term will coincide with those earlier confirmed denotations of the term as expressed by Sophocles, Isocrates, and Xenophon.

Aristotle’s enthymeme , it should first be noted, comprises only oneof his logical proofs, for as Aristotle constructs his rhetorical method-ology, he understands that proofs can take two forms— “ tecno~ and ‘ ntec-

no~ . The former, nonartistic, are not provided by the speaker, but arepreexisting (witnesses, testimony, and contracts), whereas the latter, artis-tic, are provided by the speaker, can be prepared by method and by subject,and must be invented by the speaker. Aristotle understands these proofs(pivstei~ ) to be of three artistic categories— h[qo~, pavqo~, and lovgo~: “Thefirst kind depends on the personal character of the speaker; the second onputting the audience into a certain frame of mind; the third on proof, or apparent proof, provided by the words of the speech itself” (1356a2–3).Moreover, the latter rhetorical proof, logos , is comprised of two parts—theenthymeme and the example —and these are what Aristot le equates to hissullogismos and epagoge (induction).

Like the sullogismos , perhaps the first question to be asked is whether Aristotle defines enthymeme or whether he speaks of its qualities. 12 Manycommentators, it seems, are wil ling to accept that when Aristotle talks about



134 BRAD M CADON

the enthymeme he is defining its essence . George A. Kennedy, for example,provides this “definition” in his “Glossary”: “enthymeme; a rhetorical syl-logism, i.e., a statement with a supporting reason introduced by for, be-cause, or since or an if . . . then statement. In contrast to a logical syllogism,the premises and conclusion are ordinarily probable, not necessarily logi-cally valid. A premise may be omitted if it will be easily assumed by theaudience” (1991, 315). It seems equally possible, however, if not moreprobable, that what Aristotle is doing when he speaks of the enthymeme issimilar to what he does when he speaks of the sullogismos —he is speakingto its different characteristics, its qualities. For example, at Topics 101b38,Aristotle defines definition (o{ro~) as “a phrase signifying a thing’s essence”(Pickard-Cambridge in Aristotle, Complete Works 169). Smith’s transla-

tion conveys this sense more clearly: “A definition is a phrase which signi-fies the what-it-is-to-be” (Aristotle, Topics 4). His commentary on thispassage illustrates the problem of anachronistically attributing our com-mon or contemporary notion of definition upon Aristotle:

Defining, for Aristotle, is not lexicography but an activity of greater philo-sophical and scientific importance. He does acknowledge definitions that servesimply to explain what a word means (cf. An. Post . II. 10, 93b30–1), but for him a true definition defines, not a word, but the reality behind the word. It isless easy to say what the reality is that is defined. Generally, Aristotle associ-ates definitions with universals rather than particulars. (60)

For example, when Aristotle says that a “horse is a four legged animal,” heis not defining that horse’s essence , but only attributing a quality to thathorse. The same would be true if we were to say the “dog i s brown”; we arenot saying that the essence of the dog is brownness , but only that one of thequalities that the dog has is that it is brown in color. The following discus-sion, then, of the enthymeme will briefly concern itself with describing thequalities that Aristotle attributes to the term, rather than with attempting todefine it.

Aristotle employs the term enthymeme over ninety times throughoutthe Rhetoric , the first of which is at 1354a14, wherein he notes that theprevious writers of handbooks of rhetoric “say nothing about enthymemes ,which are the substance [ sw`ma, or ‘body,’ or ‘crux’] of persuasion.” Thus,the first quality of the enthymeme for Aristotle is that it is the most impor-tant part of persuasion. Accordingly, it is also the “orator’s demonstration”( e[st i d j ajpovdeixi~ rJhtorikh; ejnquvmhma, 1355a5), and in this senseAristotle also equates the enthymeme with his sullogismos— the enthymeme




is a sullogismos (to; d j ejnquvmhma sullogismov~, 1356b2; cf. 1357a15,1359a9, 1394a25 ff., 1395b22, 1355a8, and 1400b36, which add ti~ [kindof sullogismos ]). Aristotle’s enthymeme is also to include a plurality of premises or propositions (1357a16 and 1359a10), but these are to be fewer than a sullogismos (1357a16) and spoken in a more compact language(1401a5). Maxims are also “part of an enthymeme” (1392a24–25), for theycan make up either the premises or the conclusion (1394a30), and theenthymeme is also “a process of demonstration” (1395b22–24) that is bet-ter suited for “forensic” suits (1368a29–32 and 1418a1). These are the es-sential qualit ies of Aristotle’s enthymeme —that is, when Aristotle attributesa quality to the enthymeme in the form “the enthymeme is ________,” theseare those qualities. So, to summarize the qualities of an Aristotelian

enthymeme, it seems cautiously safe to say that Aristotle’s enthymeme in-cludes those qualities that make it the substance of persuasion, a process of demonstration—the orator’s demonstration—and in this sense it is identi-cal to his sullogismos, which , as noted above, can be said to be a validargument that can take different forms. Moreover, Aristotle’s enthymeme ,although it has a plurality of premises, has fewer premises than asullogismos , is to be condensed and with more compact language, and isbest suited for forensic suits. Thus, Sophocles’, Isocrates’, and Xeonophon’s,senses of the term—“thought,” “consideration,” or “argument”—would seemto mirror Aristotle’s—an argument of sorts, a reasoning process.

Of course, Aristotle had much more to say about the enthymeme thanto attribute qualities to it. He also spoke of different kinds of enthymemes— enthymemes that are apparent , that prove either negative or positiveaffirmations (demonstrative or refutative) (1396b), and genuine or nongenuine (1400b34–1401a5). He also spoke of the various uses of theenthymeme in constructing arguments (1368a30; 1377b20; 1393a28;1394a10, 15) and the materials of the enthymeme—some are necessary ;some hold for the most part (1357a27–36). The propositions of rhetoric(or, the materials of rhetoric) and its enthymeme are the “ordinary opinionsof men” (1402a33–34)— evidences, probabilities, and signs (as opposed tothe e[ndoxa of dialectic and the true and primary propositions of demon-stration). Although Aristotle considers these other uses , kinds , and materi-als of the enthymeme, his primary concern, it seems, is to stress its similarityto the sullogismos , for he clearly states that whoever is “best skilled insullogismos will be best skilled in enthumema ” (1355a10).

That the enthymeme , for Aristotle, is so closely related to the de-monstrative or dialectical sullogismos is illustrated by the fact that his char-



138 BRAD M CADON

ence contributes at all to either the propositions or the conclusions of theenthymeme. This single, possibly incompatible, reference to the audience’sparticipation in the construction of the enthymeme is very similar to theearlier commentators’ interpolations of “incompleteness” upon theenthymeme. According to Burnyeat’s argument, both Alexander of Aphrodisias (early second century C.E.) and Philoponus (b. 490 C.E.) un-derstood the enthymeme to be deprived of a premise, for, according toPhiloponus, “it leaves one premise for the mind to think” (Bunyeat 1994,7). If, however, this notion was developed upon the false assumption thatajtelh;~ was part of the text, and if Cope’s, and hence, Bitzer’s, views weredeveloped upon this tradition, then it would seem that the position, as ar-ticulated by Bitzer, is weak at best. Moreover, I am in no position here to

advance an argument that suggests that the above-cited passage in the Rheto-ric (1357a17–21) is an emendation to the text. It does seem, however, notonly that the passage—because of its very close approximation with thetraditional view of the enthymeme as advanced by Cope and Bitzer, whichmay have rested upon a false assumption of ateles , and because of its sin-gularity in thought in comparison to the other ninety passages that mentionsomething about the enthymeme, but nothing about this possible aspect of it—demands more consideration, but also that i t, and Bitzer’s claims aboutthe enthymeme based upon it, has had more emphasis and influence uponour understanding of the enthymeme than i t deserves.

While Aristotle is pretty clear on the simi larities between the dialec-tical sullogismos and the rhetorical enthymeme , he is also clear regardingthe distinction between the two, for he claims that what makes theenthymeme “different than a dialectical sullogismos is that the conclusionmust neither be drawn from too far back, nor should it include all the stepsof the argument” (1395b22–24), and he provides examples of enthymemesthat illustrate this difference. At 1394a28 ff., Aristotle compares enthymemesto maxims (the latter of which makes up a portion of the former) by firstproviding a maxim :

Never should any man whose wits are soundHave his sons taught more wisdom than their fellows.

Then, he continues, if a reason or explanation is added, the “whole thing isan enthymeme”:

It makes them idle; and therewith they earnIll-will and jealousy throughout the city.




Another, he says, is this maxim: “There is no man among us all is free”;and, once again, if the reason is added, “for all are slaves of money or of chance,” then an enthymeme is formed. It is worth noting the similaritybetween the concept of “adding an explanation” and his earlier discussed“explanatory syllogism”:

There is no man among us free,for all are slaves of money or of chance

Every planet is near.Everything near is a non-twinkler.Therefore, every planet is a non-twinkler. (78A30 ff.)

As was mentioned above, Aristotle was careful to distinguish between a

syllogism that would prove something and one that would explain the whyin his demonstrative arguments. Similarly, at least in some respects,Aristotle’s enthymeme seems to be intended to provide the why for his max-ims in rhetorical argument. If, however, we compare either one of theseexamples of enthymemes to the complexity of the dialectical encounter asdescribed in the Topics wherein the questioner and answerer construct se-ries of arguments and resort to and manipulate hundreds of possible topicalarguments in an attempt to lead one to concede to the predetermined thesisof the other, it becomes very evident t hat the only difference, but a signifi-cant difference, between the two is that, as Aristotle claims, the rhetoricalsullogismos (the enthymeme ) does not draw its conclusions from “too far back” (1395b25).

Another example of the difference between enthymematic and syllo-gistic forms of argument can be illustrated by comparing Kennedy’s under-standing of enthymematic argument with an example of Aristotle’ssyllogistic form of argument. In his translation in On Rhetoric , Kennedyclaims that the first sentence of the Rhetoric —“Rhetoric is an antistrophosto dialectic; for both are concerned with such things as are, to a certainextent, within the knowledge of all people and belong to no separately de-fined science”—is an enthymeme. In a footnote t o the sentence, Kennedystates that this sentence “with its proposition and supporting reason, is anexample of what Aristotle will call an enthymeme.” Moreover, he admon-ishes the reader to become “sensitive to the constant use of enthymemesthroughout the text” (1991, 29 n. 3). There are, however, at least three prob-lems with this claim. Fi rst, it should be noted that Kennedy punctuates thispassage much sooner than the OCT punctuates it, for the OCT providesonly a semi-colon where Kennedy places a period, and if the period were



140 BRAD M CADON

not placed where Kennedy places it, then Aristotle’s “argument” is extendedwith more support. Second, by comparing this first passage of the Rheto-ric, especially within its larger context, to a passage, say, from Metaphys-ics (though countless passages could also be cited), the similarities of Aristotle’s argumentative method become apparent:

And in general those who use this argument do away with substance and es-sence. For they must say that all attributes are accidents, and that there is nosuch thing as being essentially man or animal. For if there is to be any suchthing as being essentially man this will not be being not-man or not being man(yet these are negations of it); for there was some one thing which it meant,and this was the substance of something. And denoting the substance of athing means that the essence of the thing is nothing else. But if its being es-

sentially man is to be the same as either being essentially not-man or essen-tially not being man, then its essence will be something else. Therefore, our opponent must say that there cannot be such a definition of anything, but. . . .(1007a21–30)

The passage goes on with more for s, and s, and but s, but his argumentativemethod is clear, and this is the method that he also uses in the Rhetoric ,which leads to the third problem with Kennedy’s claim. If Aristotle’senthymeme is intended for a forensic or deliberative audience whomAristotle understands to be “unable to understand complex argument,” thenit simply makes no sense at all that he would write his arguments in the

Rhetoric in enthymematic form. Although we do not have a clear under-standing of how, or if, Aristotle’s Rhetoric was influential in his immediatecommunity, we can probably safely assume that its immediate audience,whether it be an oral or textual audience and whether it be the Academy or the Lyceum, was in fact able to understand, follow, and develop very longand complex reasoning. Therefore, Aristotle would not address them inenthymemes, as Kennedy claims; rather, Kennedy’s claim, along wit h thepassage from the Metaphysics, illustrates the distinct ion between Aristotle’senthymematic and syllogistic argumentative method. This distinction isclearly determined by the audience for whom Aristotle’s rhetoric is intended,and while some commentators recognize this audience (Grimaldi 1972, 82;Burnyeat 1994, 21–22; Kennedy 1991, 42), but only briefly, others seem torefer to it in such general terms that the significance is lost (Bitzer 1998;

Garver 1994).14

This is a point that needs further consideration.It was mentioned above that those who concern themselves with de-

monstrative deductions would be those within their own scientific fields




(i.e., the philosopher engaged with the study of to; œ n — being ). Similarly,those who would be concerned with dialectical deductions would be oneither end of the complexities of the Aristotelian dialectical exchange (mas-ter or student, or student and student) within some kind of academic or educational context—those who partake of these Aristotelian intellectual,dialectical, or demonstrative exercises would be those who are, accordingto Aristotle, intellectually capable of participating in them. According toAristotle, the rhetorical audience, in contrast, is not capable of the com-plexities of thought that comprise demonstrative or dialectical deduction:

—The duty of rhetoric is to deal with such persons who cannot take in at aglance a complicated argument, or follow a long chain of reasoning.(1357a2–3)

—For we as sume an audience of untra ined thinkers. . . . (1357a12) —We have noted the d ifference between it [ enthymeme ] and the deduction of

dialectic. Thus, we must not carry its reasoning too far back, or the lengthof our argument will cause obscurity; nor must we put in all the steps thatlead to our conclusion, or we shall waste words in saying what is mani-fest. It is this simplicity that makes the uneducated more effective thanthe educated when addressing popular audiences—makes them, as the poetstell us, “charm the crowd’s ears more finely” [Euripides, Hippolytus 989].Educated men lay down broad general principles; uneducated men arguefrom common knowledge and draw obvious conclusions. (1395b24–31)

—One great advantage of maxims to a speaker is due to the want of intel li-gence in his hearers, who love to hear him succeed in expressing as auniversal truth the opinions which they hold themselves about particular

cases. (1395b1) —All this [introductory techniques for speeches] has nothing to do with thespeech itself. It merely has to do with the weak-minded tendency of thehearer to listen to what is beside the point. (1415b5–7)

—You cannot ask a series of quest ions owing to the incapacity of the audi-ence to follow them; and for this reason, you should also make your enthymemes as compact as possible. (1419a18–19)

Thus, it seems that the reason Aristotle maintained that the enthymemeshould comprise less propositions than the dialectical deduction—and theseemingly only significant distinction between the two—is due to the au-dience to whom the rhetorical discourse is addressed. The dialecticalsullogismos (deduction) is what it is, complete in its entirety. Whatever

this is, the rhetorical enthymeme, though similar in all other respects, com-prises fewer propositions than the dialectical deduction, and the reason for this seems to be that the rhetorical audience is not capable of grasping adialectically derived deduction.



142 BRAD M CADON

The discussion of the rhetorical induction, example , seems to further support this conclusion. Though Aristotle does not provide any thoroughdiscussion of inductive argument (Smith 1995, 33), the general notion seemsto be that induction argues from “particulars to universal.” By this, it in-fers a general claim from a number of its instances. For example, let’s saythat on the first day of classes at Texas A & M University, I notice that Billwalks into my class wearing a Texas A & M ball cap. Next, comes Lewis,and he is wearing a similar cap. Then, comes in Geoff, Carlos, and Henry,and all of them are wearing Texas A & M ball caps. Let us say further thatthese five comprise the male students in my course. Without any further knowledge on my part, I could infer that perhaps all the male students atTexas A & M wear Texas A & M ball caps. This would be a form of induc-

tion. Example , however, rather than concluding inductively from the partto the whole, concludes from the “ part icular to the particular ,” and doesnot draw its conclusion from a wide range of samples, but only from aparticular example. Aristotle’s illustrations in the Rhetoric, which speak of only one example to “prove” the point (1393a26–b3) are very clear on this,and are obviously not dialectical inductions, and for the same reason thatthe enthymeme is not the same—consideration for the audience to whom itis addressed.

It seems also to be the consideration of the audience that leadsAristotle to include h[qo~ and pavqo~ in his theoretical development of rheto-ric, as the final two forms of artistic proofs ( pivstei~ ). In contrast to thedirect quasi-logical proofs of the enthymeme and the example , these areusually considered to be the indirect moral proofs by which h[qo~ stemsfrom the moral, trustworthy character of the speaker and pavqo~ appeals tothe pathetic senses of the particular audience. It is interesting, but not sur-prising, that neither one of these terms are employed (or important at least)in Aristotle’s development of either demonstration or dialectic . The dem-onstrator will be concerned with proving from acknowledged first prin-ciples that are true and primitive and the projection of a trustworthycharacter on the part of the demonstrator is not a consideration, but theascertaining of truth. Also, the demonstrator is not attempting to prove truthby way of appeals to the emotional makeup of his opponent, for no oppo-nent is involved, as such, in demonstration. Similarly, the dialectician, inhis attempt to have his opponent concede a predetermined conclusion, isconcerned not with how his character is perceived or with the emotionalsensibilities of his opponent, but only wit h presenting his questions in sucha way that the opponent will concede to the necessary conclusions. Also, it




is highly doubtful that either of the participants in these practices—the dem-onstrator, the questioner, or the answerer—all of whom seem to be already“educated” or in the process thereof, would be in any way influenced bysuch appeals. Yet, Aristotle’s rhetorical theory, the purpose of which is toprovide the available means for persuasion, to earn the trust or confidence(pivsti~ ) of those “persons who cannot take in at a glance a complicatedargument, or follow a long chain of reasoning” (1357a3–4), relies, in part,upon these two appeals—the one to the emotional sensibilities of the audi-ence and the other upon the projected character of the speaker—to achievethe means of persuasion.

One last consideration surrounding the different participants or au-diences of these three different forms of discourse that may help us to un-

derstand the distinction between Aristotle’s understanding of demonstration,dialectic, and rhetoric is Aristotle’s understanding of the thoroughness of investigations or the thoroughness of knowledge required for each respec-tive field of discourse. At the beginning of Metaphysics B , Aristotle setsout to explain the thoroughness with which the philosopher is to under-stand the problems related to his field of inquiry (in this case, substance ).The passage is lengthy, but necessary to convey his meaning:

We must, with a view to the science which we are seeking, first recount thesubjects that should be discussed. These include both the other opinions thatsome have held on certain points, and any points besides these that happen tohave been overlooked. For those who wish to get clear of difficulties it isadvantageous to state the difficulties well; for the subsequent free play of thought implies the solution of the previous difficulties, and it is not possibleto untie a knot which one does not know. But the difficulty of our thinkingpoints to a knot in the object; for in so far as our thought is in difficulties, it isin like case with those who are ti ed up; for in either case it is impossible to goforward. Therefore, one should have surveyed all the difficulties beforehand,both for the reasons we have stated and because people who inquire withoutfirst stating the difficulties are like those who do not know where they have togo; besides a man does not otherwise know even whether he has found whathe is looking for or not; for the end is not clear to such a man, while to himwho has first discussed the difficulties it is clear. Further, he who has heardall the contending arguments, as if they were the parties to a case, must be ina better position for judging. (995a24–b4)

Aristotle makes it fairly clear here that his philosopher/demonstrator is tounderstand the problems related to his issue as thoroughly as possible, andin the succeeding discussion he specifically outlines all the aspects that are



144 BRAD M CADON

to be carefully considered. Conversely, in the opening paragraphs of theTopics, he continues to say that the dialectical method is useful to the philo-sophical sciences “because the ability to puzzle on both sides of a subjectwill make us detect more easily the truth and error about the several pointsthat arise” and that it is the task of dialectic to discuss the reputable opin-ions concerning these issues, “for dialectic is a process of criticism whereinlies the path to the principles of all inquiries” (100a35–b4). In the

Nicomachean Ethics , before launching into a consideration of the moralstates of vice, incontinence, and brutishness, his explication of his methodis more succinctly articulated: “We must, as in all other cases, set the phe-nomena before us and, after first discussing the difficulties, go on to prove,if possible, the truth of all the opinions about these affections or, failing

this, of the greater number and the most authoritative; for if we both re-solve the difficulties and leave the reputable opinions undisturbed, we shallhave proved the case sufficiently” (1145b1–7). In sharp contrast to exhor-tations to thoroughness in the Metaphysics, the Topics, and the Nicomachean

Ethics , Aristotle, in the Rhetoric, makes explicitly clear not only that theaudience is “not able to follow a long train of reasoning” (1357a2–3) andis a group of “untrained thinkers (1357a12), but also that the forms of ar-gument are to be much shorter than that for either the demonstrative or dialectical inquiry or pursuit; rather than encourage the audience of therhetorical discourse to delve into the difficulties of the problems behind anissue—a characteristically Aristotelian theme that is noticeably absent fromthe Rhetoric —he, as Grimaldi notes, “is concerned that the audience ac-quire knowledge, but knowledge which he qualifies as mavqhsi~ tacei`a :a quick comprehensive grasp of the problem” (1972, 88; see 1400b10–12,20–21, 25–26, 31–34). Thus, the consideration of the audience seems to bethe deciding factor that leads Aristotle to distinguish between his demon-strative, dialectical, and rhetorical forms of discourse. As such, the rhe-torical enthymeme seems to be a type of argument that is reduced from thedemonstrative or dialectical sullogismos to accommodate an audience whois not capable of following a long train of reasoning. This, it seems, shouldbe an important consideration, even though it has rarely, and perhaps never thoroughly, been addressed.

To summarize, just as Gorgias’s, Plato’s, and Isocrates’ views of per-suasive discourse stemmed from their broader projects, so, too, didAristotle’s. Although the former thinkers did not seem to have developed“theories” of persuasive discourse in the sense that Aristotle did, it seemsclear that their understanding of the persuasive use of discourse derived




from their respective epistemological points of view. Since the concept of rhetoric as a discipline developed prior to Aristotle, it seems only naturalthat Aristotle, who left his developmental mark on numerous developingdisciplines, would have addressed a field of knowledge that others hadpreviously addressed and would have further developed that “discipline”in a scientific way. He did this, he tells us, with deduction ( sullogismov~ )by developing its three different aspects of demonstrative, dialectical, andrhetorical. These three different forms of discourse, it seems, were devel-oped by Aristotle for three very different purposes—demonstration for thescientific investigation from first principles, dialectic for questioning andanswering within some kind of a preexisting format, and rhetoric for sup-plying a means of persuasion (see Appendix 1). Aristotle makes it very

clear that the participants of the demonstrative method are the scientifi-cally trained (the philosopher), that the participants of dialectic are master and student or student and student, and that those to be persuaded are thosewho cannot maintain complex thoughts. Similarly, he derives the logicalmethod for each of these three aspects of discourse. The solitary philoso-pher, within his particular scientific field, after carefully investigating whatothers have said about his chosen issue, induces to and deduces from firstprinciples that are true and primitive to determine truth. The dialectician,too, in addition to using his tekne to unravel puzzles, incorporates deduc-tion and induction, but begins from those propositions, from any field of inquiry, that, rather than being true, are probable, potential, or commonlyaccepted ( endoxa ), and he seeks the concession of his opponent. The rheto-rician, who deals with the affairs of men, also considers those propositionsof a probable or potential nature, but, through the enthymeme and the ex-ample , to a lesser extent than the dialectician because of the lower intellec-tual capacity of his audience, and it is for this reason that he incorporatesappeals to emotional sensibilities, that he attempts to project his own self-credulity as means to persuasion, and that he expects from the audienceonly a quick grasp of the problems.

The parallels between Aristotle’s theoretical development of the dif-ferent uses of discourse—demonstration, dialectic, and rhetoric—for hisdifferent purposes—to prove, to argue, to persuade—are striking. It seemsthat Aristotle determined to develop these three modes of expression asappropriate means to convey the concepts that he understood to be appro-priate to each arena within which these forms of expression would be ef-fective, and, furthermore, it seems evident that these concepts of expressionstemmed from his broader project. Moreover, it seems equally evident that,



146 BRAD M CADON

even though Aristotle’s terminology for demonstration and dialectic couldbe understood apart from his rhetoric, his rhetorical theory cannot be con-textually understood apart from his theories of demonstration and dialec-tic. 15

A final thought, but one that pecks away at me as I consider its pos-sibilities: If the preceding discussion seems viable as an understanding of Aristotle’s Rhetoric , then attempts to connect his Rhetoric (or rhetoric)with contemporary views on civic or poli tical rhetoric, or with contempo-rary composition theory, may need to be reconsidered. Aristotle thoughthis rhetorical audience—the civic body of fourth century B.C .E. Greece—tobe “untrained” or unable “to follow long reasoning.” Although I’ve cer-tainly had experiences that have proven his view to be true today, I have

found that, for the most part, civic authori ties—especially judges and peoplein authoritative positions—are able to follow long processes of reasoning,and I’ve witnessed occasions for which enthymematic arguments (basedupon maxims) are not very productive when presented to those who areable to soundly refute them in a more demonstrative or dialectical fashion.In respect to the composition classroom, I am perplexed by the thought of teaching my students how to persuade those who are not capable of fol-lowing long reasoning. Is this our purpose in a composition classroom? Or,would we better serve our students if we taught them how to proceed throughan issue, and argue about an issue [as we all probably do, in practice] asAristotle suggests in his Metaphysics , Topics , and Nicomachean Ethics ?Moreover, it seems that we should want to promote the pursuit of under-standing as Aristotle advocates in his other works (and as Garver rightlysuggests) and understand Aristotelian persuasion as Aristotle understood ithimself. This is not to say that the Rhetoric is not an important text; historytells us otherwise. However, it is a text, I have attempted to argue, thatneeds to be considered within the l arger Aristotelian corpus and contempo-rary Athenian context—a project that will expand the canon and the breadthof ancient rhetorical studies.

Department of EnglishTexas A & M University

AcknowledgmentI would like to thank C. Jan Swearingen and Robin Smith (both of Texas A&M University,College Station), Carol Poster (Montana State University), and an anonymous referee for reading through earlier drafts of this essay and for their very helpful suggestions. The re-maining errors are my own.




Notes1. This is not to say that other considerations are not also important and necessary for abetter understanding of Aristotle’s Rhetoric . These would include the chronological devel-opment of Aristotle’s thought, an understanding of the Athenian court system and those whocomprised it (i.e., the ekklesia, dikasterion, and the rhetors ), an understanding of the Athe-nian citizens who are the Athenian court system, and Aristotle’s view of them and their democracy. These will be considered in a later essay, but the focus of the present discussionis the relationship between Aristotle’s rhetoric and his larger philosophical project.

2. See Garver’s Aris totle ’s Rhet oric (1994), which he “immodestly” claims to be “thefirst book-length philosophic treatment of the Rhetoric ”; Grimaldi’s “Studies in the Philoso-phy of Aristotle’s Rhetoric” (1972); Burnyeat’s “Enthymeme” (1994); Brunschwig’s“Aristotle’s Rhetoric as a ‘Counterpart’ to Dialectic” (1996); Crem’s “The Definition of Rhetoric According to Aristotle” (1956 and 1974); Price’s “Some Antistrophes to the Rheto-ric ” (1974); and Robert’s “Rhetoric and Dialectic” (1974).

3. Schiappa has repeatedly argued that the first use of the term appears in Greek litera-ture in Plato’s Gorgias . Moreover, a key term search, conducted by Katherin Welch in 1990,suggests that no equivalent concept of what the term rJhtorikhv denotes appears in the lit-

erature of the fifth century (Schiappa 1992, 4). These findings have led Schiappa to claimthat the term was coined by Plato early in the fourth century in an attempt to “disciplinize”or “subjectivize” aspects of speech that were not yet formulated into any disciplinarian form,but existed as more ambiguous, more formless, or more unsystematic practices of expres-sion than what we usually understand practices or techniques of rJhtorikhv to convey. Themost recent criticism of Schiappa’s view is Pendrick’s “Platon and Dialectic” (1998).

4. His closing thoughts in the Cratylus , in which he questions the possibility of whether or not knowledge can change or remains fixed, is a good example of this (440b–e).

5. After explaining that he would not apply the term philo sophy to those who are trainingin those disciplines that do not “help us in the present either in our speech or in our actions,”Isocrates advises the young men to go ahead and spend some time on “these disciplines”— those that search for first principles—but not too much, “for I think that such curiosities of thought are on a par with juggler ’s tricks which, though they do not profit anyone, ye t attractgreat crowds of the empty-minded, and I hold that men who want to do some good in theworld must banish utterly from their interests all vain speculations and all activities whichhave no bearing on our lives” ( Antid osis 261–69).

6. The essentially same definition of a sullogismos is also in Prior Analy tics 24b18–22;

cf. Sophistical Refutations 164b27–65a2, Rhetoric 1356b16–18.7. See note 1, above.8. It is also possible that Aristotle wrote the early portions of his Rhetoric while still a

student at the Academy, and thus his views of rhetoric would have offered others at theAcademy a contrast to Plato’s view of rhetoric. Yet, it is possible, too, that Plato would nothave allowed the expression of views contrary to his own within the Academy, but wouldhave asked those who differed with him to leave the school. These ideas will be given fur-ther consideration in forthcoming essays.

9. It seems to have been a habit of Aristotle to begin discussions of issues by initiallyconsidering what others had previously said about them. This is made especially evident byOwens (1986).

10. Fagles’s translation of the same passage reflects a similar idea:

You fill me with awe, you must, old man— you express your arguments with such force.But I’ll be more at easeif the lords of the realm decide these matters for me. (300)

The following three paragraphs are an expansion of Burnyeat’s discussion (1994, 10–13).11. Xenophon’s other example of enthymema’ s denotation is at 6.1.19–22.12. Burnyeat acutely brings up this idea (1994, 5), but more consideration of it may help

to clarify certain ambiguities surrounding the term enthymeme .



148 BRAD M CADON

13. In a footnote to this passage, Kennedy states: “Later writers often regard an enthymemeas an abbreviated syllogism in which one premise, usually the major, is not expressed but isassumed, e.g., ‘Socrates is mortal, for he is a man,’ assuming ‘all men are mortal.’ Aristotlenotes that this is often the case, but it is not a necessary feature of the enthymeme” (1991, n.60). It would have been helpful if Kennedy would have cited the passages where Aristotle“often” notes this, for I’m not so sure that he does.

14. Burnyeat (1994), Grimaldi (1972), and Kennedy (1991) all recognize and briefly com-ment upon Aristotle’s recognition that the rhetorical audience is not able to follow a longargument. Bitzer’s reference to Aristotle’s audience is very vague (1998), and Garver’s wholethesis centers around Aristotle’s “picture of practical reasoning and rhetoric that bears inti-mate and complicated relations to character” (1994, 12), and does not even cite these other passages from the Rhetoric that speak to the audiences’ inability to reason according toAristotle’s concept of reasoning.

15. Again, though, it should be emphasized that an understanding of the nature of theAthenian court system, the rhetors who spoke within these courts, the audience who com-prised the courts, Aristotle’s relationship (for he was a metic) to these Athenians, and the

Rhetoric ’s place within the development of Aristotle’s thought are also necessary to better understand the text and its relationship to and place within the rhetorical tradition.

Works citedAristotle. The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation . Ed. Jonathan

Barnes. 2 vols. Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1991. ———. Poli tics . Trans. H. Rackham. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1950. ———. Prior Analytics . Trans. Robin Smith. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 1989. ———. Ars Rhetorica . Ed. W. D. Ross. Oxford: Clarendon, 1982. ———. Topics: Books I and VIII with excerpts and related texts . Trans. Robin Smith. Ox-

ford: Clarendon, 1997.Barnes, Jonathan. 1995. “Rhetoric and Poetics.” In The Cambridge Companion to Aristotle ,

ed. Jonathan Barnes, 259–86. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge UP.Bitzer, Lloyd F. 1998. “Aristotle’s Enthymeme Revisited.” In Landmark Essay s on Arist ote-

lian Rhetoric , ed. Richard Leo Enos and Lois Peters Agnew, 179–92. Mahwah, NJ:Lawrence Erlbaum.

Brunswig, Jacques. 1996. “Aristotle’s Rhetoric as a ‘Counterpart’ to Dialectic.” In Essayson Aristotle’s Rhetoric, ed. Amélie Rorty, 34–55. Berkeley: U of California P.

Burnyeat, M. F. 1994. “Enthymeme: Aristotle on the Logic of Persuasion.” In Aris totle ’s Rhetoric : Philosophica l Essays, ed. David J. Furley and Alexander Nehamas, 3–56.Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP.

Cohen, Marc. 1998. “Posterior Analytics: Epistemology and Philosophy of Science.”<http://weber.u.washington.edu/~smcohen/anpost.htm>. 26 November.

Crem, Theresa M. 1974. “The Definition of Rhetoric According to Aristotle.” In Aris totle :The Classical Heritage of Rhetoric, ed. Keith V. Erickson, 52–71. Metuchen, NJ: Scare-crow P.

Duhamel, P. Albert. 1949. “The Function of Rhetoric as Effective Expression.” Journal of the History of Ideas 10: 344–56.

Gagarin, Michael, and Woodruff, Paul, Eds. 1995. Early Gree k Political Thought from Homer to the Sophists. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge UP.

Garver, Eugene. 1994. Aris totle ’s Rhe toric: An Art of Charac ter . Chicago: U of Chicago P.Grimaldi, William M. A. 1972. “Studies in the Philosophy of Aristotle’s Rhetoric .” Herm es

25: 1–151.Irwin, Terence. 1988. Aris totle ’s First Principle s . Oxford: Clarendon.Isocrates. Isocrate s. Trans. George Norlin. 3 vols. London: William Heinemann, 1939. Rpt.

1992.Kennedy, George A. 1991. Aris totle on R hetor ic: A Th eory of Civic Discourse . New York:

Oxford UP.Liddell, George H., and Robert Scott. 1996. A Greek -English Lexicon . Supplement Rev.

Oxford: Clarendon.

rhetoric is a counterpart of dialectic

Documents