Download On teaching rhetorical citizenship Looking back over the past dozen

On teaching rhetorical citizenship
Looking back over the past dozen years in American politics, most recently the Presidential
campaign 2016, many rhetoricians would agree that a change for the worse in public political
rhetoric has occurred.
During the same period, there have also been new attempts by rhetoricians to define the
discipline of rhetoric, partly or wholly, as a teaching tradition aiming at civic education, rather than
just, e.g., a variety of criticism (Hauser 2004; Keith and Mountford 2014). And just as rhetoric is
seen in these initiatives as being about citizenship, so also is it being claimed that citizenship is in
large part about rhetoric (e.g., Danisch 2007; Kock and Villadsen 2012, 2015)—although the
rhetoric that helps define and enact citizenship in a society can be better or worse. Is it possible that
the trend toward bombastic, belligerent and irresponsible rhetoric in the public sphere, as well as
among citizens themselves, might be reversed? Below, I will look closer at the challenges that any
pedagogical initiative for a more reflective and deliberative political discourse is facing, and then
suggest what theoretical premises might make such a pedagogy conceivable and meaningful.
A central component principle of rhetorical citizenship is the recognition that others may have
legitimate reasons for holding political views opposed to one’s own. The political scientist Diana
Mutz has studied “cross-cutting” political conversations—i.e., dialogues on politics between citizens
holding opposite views . She has found that such dialogues enhance citizens’ mutual recognition
that there are “legitimate rationales for oppositional viewpoints” (2006, 15); further, that this effect
is especially strong when the dialogue is “civil” (75), i.e., when it preserves the social harmony
between the discussants. However, she also found that many citizens shun cross-cutting
conversations . Further, they are mainly engaged in by those with strong political engagement and
partisan views. In several ways, having cross-cutting conversations correlates negatively with
preparedness to engage in open deliberative discussion, weighing pros and cons. To this we may add
the trend what Mutz calls “balkanization”: the tendency for citizens to gather in enclaves with their
own segment. In the conclusion of Hearing the Other Side Mutz calls for norms and instruction
regarding the “civil” handling of political disagreement in dialogue, but she does not propose what
the content or theoretical premises of such instruction might be. Yet recent trends have massively
aggravated the need. Internet technology is rapidly boosting digital enclaves where the likeminded
amplify each other’s views in “echo chambers” (Sunstein 2009), and this trend paired with the rise
of social networking services seem to make civil cross-cutting dialogue a quaint idea from the past.
Contemporary rhetorical theory should meet some of these challenges, and it could. Robert Ivie
sees the problem as two-sided: “how to communicate politically without an exclusionary aim for
consensus and unity or a reduction of difference to total otherness” (2002, 278). In this paper I
suggest that a pedagogy of civic rhetoric must include an answer to this two-pronged query. How is
it that, in principle, citizens in a democracy may be in deep, enduring disagreement and at the same
time be able not only to talk reasonably and civilly with each other but also to do so with mutual
benefit? How can we justify the view that that people in deep disagreement could have reasonable
cross-cutting conversations and not see “total otherness” in each other? Why, on the other hand, can
such conversations not be expected to lead to unity and consensus? But then, how could they still be
beneficial, both in a social perspective and even in the perspective of the individual participant in
them?
In a nutshell I suggest that there are aspects of most disagreements that are reasonable and aspects
that are not. Pedagogy should teach an awareness of both kinds.
John Rawls has coined the phrase "reasonable disagreement" (1989, 1997). We can be reasonable
and yet stay in disagreement. Rawls names six reasons for this and calls them “the burdens of
reason” (1989, 236) or “the burdens of judgment” (1993, 61; 1997, 805).
Following Kock (2007), I argue that Rawls’s list of essential reasons underlying disagreement can
be reduced to three factors: 1) we may disagree on what we believe the facts of the case are—
because the evidence, as Rawls says, is “conflicting and complex”; 2) we may disagree on what
norms to invoke in order to interpret the facts relevant to the issue; and 3) we may disagree on how
we assign relative weights, i.e., how we prioritize those norms. For norms, you may also read
“warrants,” to adopt Toulmin's terms (1958).
Underneath these insights lurks the philosophical concept of incommensurability (see, e.g., Raz
2000: the norms and value concepts invoked on an issue tend to belong to different kinds or
dimensions (e.g., economic norms vs. ethical norms); thus we cannot appeal to a generally
acceptable common denominator by which we can objectively weigh them up against each other—in
other words, we may reasonably disagree in that respect.
As for factual disagreement, the main insight to teach in civic rhetoric is that—despite what much
modern humanistic thinking has preached about facts and values being inextricably intertwined—it
is still desirable to try to distinguish between what one thinks is the case (one’s understanding of the
facts) and what one thinks should be the case (one’s political views). One reason this distinction is
useful is that it may remind us to always let the former inform the latter, not the other way around.
For example: one should not believe in man-made climate change because one is a leftist, and one
should not deny it because one is a conservative. To counter fallacies of this kind is in itself a
gigantic task in these “post-factual” times, but at least it may be a help to have a clear understanding
of their source.
As for norms and priorities, civic pedagogy should make clear that the norms and values relied on
by the disagreeing parties in a controversy are in fact often the same. For example, in the abortion
controversy, as analyzed by, among others, the philosopher Georgia Warnke (1999), both the prolifers and the pro-choicers surely recognize the value of preserving human life and the value of
defending individuals' free choice. Where they disagree is, first, on which norms and concepts to
invoke to interpret the facts of the issue; pro-choicers do not interpret a three-days old fetus as a
human life, while pro-lifers do. And further, even if a pro-choicer does interpret the young fetus as a
human life in a certain sense, she would also interpret it as a part of her own body and prioritize
women's right to make choices about their own bodies. The pro-lifer would probably disagree on
both these points. Most likely none of them would be able to persuade the other, so consensus would
not occur, but both might come to see that their disagreement is one of different interpretations
and/or priorities, whereas they in fact agree to endorse the value of human life and of human choice.
This would be what the political theorist John Dryzek, in collaboration with Simon Niemeyer, has
called a “normative meta-consensus” (2006; Dryzek 2009)—i.e., a consensus that concerns the
norms relevant to the issue, but not necessarily how those norms are to be interpreted or prioritized,
and consequently not the actual policy to be adopted. In a dialogue, both opponents then use their
best rhetoric to convince the other of his or her interpretation and prioritization of these norms. At
the same time, they might be less disposed to see the other as representing total otherness, a wicked
or benighted person who, for example, has no regard for human life. And they might be less disposed
to attribute all kinds of other “straw man” views and repulsive character traits to each other. There
might be fewer irrelevant imputations of conspiracy and sinister motives flying about between
discussants, fewer fabricated facts and statistics, fewer dodgy answers and non-replies and the other
obnoxious practices that proliferate around core disagreements and vitiate so much political debate.
Why would that be so? Because if both sides were to focus on those aspects of disagreement that
really and reasonably separate them, and not on all the bogus aspects that do not really separate
them, then they would both be employing the rhetorical strategy most likely to actually win over
some of those on the other side. In such a disagreement we might get an exchange where both sides
would declare what the values are that they see as relevant to the issue, and how they prioritize them,
and why. By doing that, by responding openly to counter-considerations and criticism, and by doing
all this in a manner that respects the opposite position as legitimate, thereby sustaining the possibility
of further discussion, they would stand the best chance of persuading the other, or the adherents of
the other’s views—and those in the audience, if any, who listen in to decide which position best
deserves their support. The mutual civility required here might be easier to muster when both sides
realize that the values they invoke are in fact similar or identical—since the main disagreement is in
how they interpret and prioritize them.
A pedagogy based on this analysis of disagreement has a chance of fostering productive crosscutting conversations and fulfill the specifications we began with. It builds on the premise that
deeply disagreeing individuals may have cross-cutting conversations without belligerence because
they don’t see total otherness in each other. Instead they may see someone with whom they share
some norms, but who also has different interpretations and prioritizations of them; that is precisely
why consensus on policy will not necessarily ensue.
Still there would be benefits to reap from such conversations. If not consensus, compromise might
sometimes be found, or modifications to policies sanctioned by a majority but contested by a
minority. Both sides in a disagreement, by focusing on just the points where they truly disagree (e.g.,
the proper interpretation and weighting of a shared norm), rather than by demonizing the other’s
alleged total otherness, might not only hope to actually win over opponents, but also run the “risk” of
being won over to the other side—but that they might consider an insight gained, rather than a loss.
Even absent any of this, both sides in a disagreement might feel that just as they have granted
legitimacy to the other side, so also has the legitimacy of their own position been recognized.
We should teach students that rhetoric based on these premises might be more apt to persuade
opponents, and hence in their own interest. After all, debating to persuade is legitimate, and rhetoric
is inherently strategic. This also should be part of the theoretical premise of a civic pedagogy in the
rhetorical tradition. Pace Habermas and many other philosophers, there is nothing wrong per se in
being “strategic,” i.e., in wanting and arguing to “win.” This follows precisely from the premise that
there is such a thing as “reasonable disagreement.” Individuals may legitimately hold opposite views
on policy; there are good reasons for this (the “burdens of reason”). For example, an libertarian
position that would maximize individual freedoms and minimize state intervention, such as taxation,
is, as such, as legitimate as the opposite stance that would maximize community, including taxfinanced programs for welfare, education, etc. This disagreement too can be seen as based on
differential interpretation and prioritization of norms on which there is essential agreement.
This insight is encapsulated in a famous quote ascribed to the late Senator and diplomat Daniel
Patrick Moynihan: ”Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but not his own facts.” What this means
is that two individuals may reasonably disagree deeply on policies, and hence they may legitimately
be strategic about winning adherence; but they may not strategically fabricate facts to help this
happen. A rhetorical view of deliberation should be just as critical of manipulative and mendacious
practices as any logic-based textbook of argument, but it should reject the Platonic view that there is
a “correct” or “true” solution to all ethical, legislative or policy-related disagreements. (An example
of a book of pedagogy taking a hardcore Platonic view is Aikin and Talisse 2013, which also
consistently uses ”rhetoric” as a term of defamation.)
So one goal of instruction in rhetorical citizenship would be this: teach students that at the core of
a political disagreement there will usually be legitimate rationales on both sides—because humans
may reasonably differ in interpreting and prioritizing values that, most often, they nevertheless share.
Teach students to focus on these core elements of disagreement, not on the paraphernalia that often
terminate dialogue and stultify debate.
If those who would win our political adherence would also begin to practice these norms, further
social benefits might result. It might help de-polarize and de-brutalize public political discourse. It
might not give us much more consensus, but the legitimacy of adopted policies might be more
widely recognized; more citizens would be able to choose positions they would not later have cause
to regret; more citizens might engage in private or public cross-cutting debate; and citizens’ trust in
politicians and other public rhetors might start to rise rather than sink.
References
Aikin, Scott F., and Robert B. Talisse. Why We Argue (and How We Should): A Guide to Political
Disagreement. Routledge, 2013.
Danisch, Robert. Pragmatism, Democracy, and the Necessity of Rhetoric. University of South
Carolina Press, 2007.
Dryzek, John S. "Democratization as Deliberative Capacity Building." Comparative Political
Studies 42.11 (2009): 1379-1402.
Dryzek, John S., and Simon Niemeyer. "Reconciling Pluralism and Consensus as Political Ideals."
American Journal of Political Science 50.3 (2006): 634-649.
Hauser, Gerard A. ”Teaching Rhetoric. Or Why Rhetoric Isn’t Just Another Kind of Philosophy
or Literary Criticism”. Rhetoric Society Quarterly 34 (2004): 39–53.
Ivie, Robert L. "Rhetorical Deliberation and Democratic Politics in the Here and Now." Rhetoric
& Public Affairs 5.2 (2002): 277-285.
Keith, William, and Roxanne Mountford. “The Mt. Oread Manifesto on Rhetorical Education
2013.” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 44, 1 (2014): 1–5.
Kock, Christian. "Norms of Legitimate Dissensus." Informal Logic 27.2 (2007): 179-196.
Kock, Christian, and Lisa Villadsen (eds.). Rhetorical Citizenship and Public Deliberation, 2012.
University Park: Penn State University Press.
Kock, Christian, and Lisa Villadsen (eds.). Contemporary Rhetorical Citizenship, 2015. Leiden:
Leiden University Press.
Mutz, Diana C. Hearing the Other Side: Deliberative Versus Participatory Democracy.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006.
Rawls, John. "The Domain of the Political and Overlapping Consensus." New York University
Law Review 64 (1989): 233-255.
Rawls, John. "The Idea of Public Reason Revisited." The University of Chicago Law Review 64.3
(1997): 765-807.
Raz, Joseph. “Incommensurability and Agency.” In Chang, Ruth (ed.). Incommensurability,
Incomparability, and Practical Reason. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998, 110-128.
Sunstein, Cass R. Republic.com 2.0. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009.
Warnke, Georgia. Legitimate Differences: Interpretation in the Abortion Controversy and Other
Public Debates. Oakland: University of California Press, 1999.