The New York Sophist

I thought I’d start out this semester by offering students a number of 10 to 12 minute videos on different topics. It did not turn out that way. Most of the videos I’ve made have been 20 minutes or more. And for my Argumentation course, the videos are always around 40 minutes.

I’m not sure this is good pedagogy at all for the online classroom, but I’m pretty certain I’m providing some good content. The trick is if the students will ever watch enough of the videos to see it.

In my imagination, students are scrubbing the videos a lot. That is, they are moving the playhead back and forth, looking for parts of the video that they are most interested in or curious about. At least I hope that’s what they are doing!

Here’s a video for my public speaking students on style and delivery, about 20 minutes long – and meant to be much shorter.

Still no sign of my ancient copy of The Federalist Papers but for some reason Amazon gave me a 15 dollar discount on a Kindle version of them, so I’m good to go for my super-awesome procrastination plan of reading them through instead of doing any actual work. I feel like a rhetorical defense of originalism is what’s brewing in my head and although that might sound like a contradiction to some of you and incredibly stupid to the rest of you, I think that any defense of any hermeneutic approach is going to be rhetorical.

Two things on my mind this morning as I virtually attend the C-SPAN Center for Scholarship and Engagement Annual Conference:

I forgot, or perhaps never knew that The Federalist Papers were aimed at, and made for a New York City audience. It was very important to Hamilton’s strategy of ratification of the work of the convention to get the city on board with the new Constitution, as that would flip a lot of other minds in other towns as well as render most of New York’s citizens views outside the city irrelevant.

For an unnamed side project that I’ll probably talk about on here one day, I’m putting together a class tentatively called “Debating New York” where we just go through all the various controversies that New York City has faced over time and have class debates, discuss, research, and write about them. This class takes on my idea that debate is a site of inquiry meant for discovering and learning. So now I can include the debate over the Constitution as a New York city debate, thanks to Alexander Hamilton anyway.

The other thought is this: Could you do an entire debate or argument course on The Federalist Papers? Like, just read through those, some of the Convention debates from Madison or other sources, and have the students construct arguments about and around the issues that are brought up in the papers? I don’t think every essay matters that much anymore, but depending on when you taught the class there would be some play and emphasis. For example, if I was teaching this right now I would put a lot more emphasis on Hamilton’s three essays on the role of the judiciary and try to see what those mean for the Barrett hearings, as well as for her understanding of originalism. What’s an originalist take on the role of the Supreme Court, or the process for getting people nominated and confirmed?

In times where there are congressional debates, perhaps focus more on those essays. Maybe pair the reading of the papers with Joseph Ellis’s great book Quartet which would give some more background on the framing and shaping of these arguments. I wonder if I could pull this off.

Regardless of these future plans, it’s becoming clear to me I’m going to have to go up to my office to see if I can find my 1990s copy of the book, my dissolving Federalist papers collection, on my shelf up there, no doubt coated with a fine powder of 1950s building materials sluffing off the celling, dirt, and dead coronavirus particles. Sounds so exciting. I really just can’t wait. Although I did hear a rumor I’m getting a new office, but I’m sure that means the actual policy is at least 2 years away.

It’s always usually at the 1/3 of the semester mark that I start to think about the class I’d rather be teaching, rather than the one that I am actually teaching. I keep a notebook of all these ideas for future ways to organize and orient the class, but these ideas never look very good when doing course planning.

I took this great picture today that I sent to my sister as it represents the combination of something she loves with something she despises.

For her this represents an uholy combination of much loved Harry Potter with the all-consuming horror of Legos which never fail to appear in her visual or physical presence anytime she is at home.

Assigning students to find images out there in their daily lives that represent something frustrating, impossible to accept, or other sorts of “aporia-istic” combinations might be a fun assignment. It also encourages them to look around in their daily lives in a new and different way. And this might be the purpose/function of education.

This isn’t the only thing you could do with this assignment, of course. You could assign a number of different kinds of photos and then the speech becomes “how do you account for this photo being representative of/an example of/or an instance of that concept or idea?”

This could be a number of words but it could also be quotes, aphorisms, and other things that, when placed by a photo, require some articulation. It is a good exercise in reason-giving, and a great exercise in what counts as evidence. These concepts are considered to be obvious to most students, i.e. “we’ll you know, it’s just an example of it.” or “it’s a fact.” In order to avoid these space-fillers and work on the development of reason-giving discourse assignments that are a bit off from the everyday kinds of topics might be required.

Again, public speaking is composition, which should be obvious by now. But what might be more challenging to accept is that evidence and reasons are composition. We compose evidence; we compose reasons and reason giving. This is particularly hard to accept in our current political climate.

Just finished assessing the first round of student speeches for the term and the average grades were around an 88 to 90, high B to low A. This is atypical for me; most first speeches are closer to a C and slowly move up to this point over a course of four to five speeches.

Speech quality increases the less restrictions you give students on topics and the more instruction you give them in terms of how to develop a topic. Public speaking instructors suffer from the idea that in order to increase the quality of speeches they must police the nature of the topic, banning a number of topics that they associate with poor quality orations.

Photo by Jouwen Wang on Unsplash

This is the most common fallacy of the public speaking professor, the fallacy of causation between particular topics and bad speeches. It isn’t the topic choice that causes the poor speech, nor is it the nature of the topic. There are a few causes of this – namely three problems with topic approach that the instructor should address through teaching rhetoric instead of teaching orientation toward the “right position” on an issue or “a better topic” or even “good sources.” These things won’t address the core of the problem.

First, most of the topics that are associated with bad speeches – abortion, drug legalization, gun restrictions – are huge topics that cannot be taken on just as they are. They require a walk through the stasis in order to discover what the best point of contention is. They require examination through the general and specific topics of Aristotle and Cicero. They require acknowledgement that a young person is speaking on the topic, someone with little to no credibility. All these things are usually ignored by the instructor in favor of “get good sources.” But speech should be a lot more than a way to measure someone’s ability to evaluate research sources.

Another issue with these topics is that instructors might consider them “too real” and inappropriate for the classroom. this defense makes little sense to me. It’s one thing to criticise the university for not teaching “real world” skills or having applicability outside the gates. It’s another for instructors to deliberately restrict the content of a course to be removed from the things that people are speaking about and attempting to persuade one another about most often. Even moreso, consider that the course is meant to help people become better at such speech, and the instructor saying “There is no point in discussing these issues since persuasion is impossible.” This seems like a reason to reconsider the necessity of a speech course in totality, not an adaptation to make the course better.

Audiences are audiences. A university student audience brings with them into the classroom the assumptions, ideology, and values they have. A speech on a controversy is a wonderful way to gain class attention and connect the principles of good oratory into something they are experiencing directly and can connect to their life experiences. Of course, nobody should feel compelled to change their mind on an issue, but that’s an important consideration for oratory as well. These principles of democratic engagement are really not taught anymore. We teach young people that they are fools if they do not dissolve their opinions in the light of the facts. Instead, why not discuss how difficult it is to understand the fact, understand ideology, and negotiate the feelings and thoughts that surround any controversy they might face. Giving students a plan for future encounters with oratory might be more important than practice in making the same old designs on safe topics.

Speaking of safe, this word is probably the centerpiece of the most serious objection to particular topics, and that is the concept of the “safe space.” The trouble with safe spaces has been argued to death all over the internet, and I won’t rehearse those arguments here. The only thing I can add to this conversation is the danger of assuming there is a place that is free of persuasion and argument. Although safe-space considerations are well meaning and aimed at helping students feel comfortable and get in the mental space to engage learning, the idea that they would be immune or free from convincing speech is extremely dangerous. We are always vulnerable to it. And people who are not well-meaning at all will take advantage of those who feel that there’s a space that is persuasion or argument free.

When people want a safe space, what they want is a space that is free of aggressive, hostile, and bad argumentation or speech. This has been conflated with all persuasion and all oratory because in contemporary America, we are horrible at this. We have been taught, and continue to teach that facts are facts, they are easy to obtain, easy to understand, and that in their presence we should just change our mind without hesitation. This anti-human, monstrous position is responsible for people’s negative feelings about political conversation, their aversion to argument, and their desire to be away from oratory. The solution is to provide oratory as the fine art that it is. If speech teachers and public speaking courses are not going to do this, we have little hope to find it in other places.

Public speaking is oratory, and oratory is an art that connects humans and allows human beings to see themselves connected to one another in new ways. “Consubstantiality” is what Kenneth Burke called the art of rhetoric. This has been forgotten, or is just unknown to contemporary teachers. We tend to automatically think that speech and oratory are a violent interruption of our lives, separating us from what we know and believe, challenging us to accept new and different beliefs. This can be the case. But this other relation is where oratory is at its most artistic, creating moments where we see new connection and take on shared identity, seeing a place for future possibility.

I have a lot more to think about in terms of creating digital speech. The internet has become an art gallery of oratory, with preserved speech hanging there, waiting for us to stop for a bit as we walk or surf by. More on that later as I think about these wonderful orations that the students are producing this term.

There really isn’t such a thing as “graduate student pedagogy,” but I thought I would write about it anyway. I’m always hopeful about it, but I know why it doesn’t exist: People who want to teach graduate students don’t understand how teaching works, they aren’t interested in thinking or talking about teaching, and they also have a very high self-image of their own importance to the field and to their studies.

Graduate student pedagogy is essential, particularly in pedagogy. It is clear that nearly all future jobs for advanced degree holders are going to be in teaching, and will likely consist of a lot more teaching than we are used to in academic appointments. When departments don’t have serious conversations about course and assignment design, and don’t have regular conversations about how to teach, pretty terrible things happen as they recently did on my campus.

A graduate student was removed of his teaching duties after he tried to get a class to come up with arguments in favor of slavery. As someone who teaches argumentation for a living, and someone who thinks a lot about the power and nature of classroom speech, this assignment cannot adequately be described as terrible. It’s the epitome of bad graduate student mentoring and what happens when you don’t have open conversations about teaching and what it’s about. Professor Taylor’s terrible assignment is a symptom, not an independent problem. And it’s a symptom that exists at some level in higher education in general.

Graduate student supervisors, as a rule, are really nervous about talking about teaching quality with graduate students. I wonder why this is? Are they afraid? Are they unwilling to let the graduate students know that teaching is an art that requires a lot of work and thought just to realize you could have done it so much better? Is it that they don’t know what to say, they believe in a simple transmission and response model? Taylor is, to his credit, trying to have an interactive classroom. But his assumptions about things like critical thinking, student engagement, and what his role is as a professor are detrimental to his ability to teach. He is one of these people who seems to believe the professor’s role is to offer the opposite, to teach from the point of opposition, to take up the impossible position and push it toward the students to see if they can push back correctly. This is not teaching. This is like mixing chemicals as a Chemistry teacher to see how the students will react to the explosions. It’s irresponsible, and it’s simply not teaching.

This professor was trying to be edgy, he was trying to really get the students to “think outside the box” to have that moment of “Wow! I’ve never thought of that before,” or whatever trendy nonsense was going through his head. It is not teaching to rupture the students’ relationships with the things they bring into the classroom. It is also not appropriate to think that you are offering radical expose about ideas to them. This assignment screams the attitude that Taylor believed he knew more about this issue than his students. This is an inappropriate attitude for teaching anything. Good teaching is realizing that you know different ways to encounter knowledge, not that you have amassed more than they have.

Secondly, Taylor did not do any adequate research to try to teach this assignment. People have written books where they have contextualized the arguments in favor of slavery from American history as well as the history of other countries that practiced it. But this was done carefully, with research, with context, and with the understanding that bad and good are contextually understood. Taylor did not offer any of that to his students, by all reports, and just tried to get them to speculate what good could come from slavery as they were sitting there, in a classroom, in 2020, with no other resources than their own feelings and thoughts. Of course that is inappropriate. More than that, it’s irresponsible to think that this would help teach these students anything about how slavery was permitted to survive so long, or how people justified it in the time and place where it was practiced. How is this the teaching of history if you are not providing deep context? Again, there are entire books written on this topic.

Finally there is this idea floating around that the pedagogy of critical thinking consists of examining the extant “two sides” of every issue. These two sides exist already and can always be accessed. One is preferred now, the other is not although it could be preferred given the right argument.

This is an unhealthy and improper model of argument, controversy, and critical thinking. If you can access arguments in favor of something it does not mean this side of the issue has legitimacy. That legitimacy is always conferred by audiences. In order to think critically about any controversy, all positions must be situated within the discourse, the context, and the ideology of the time. This requires a lot more than just sitting and staring into space in a classroom and writing down whatever reasons come to mind.

Taylor seems to believe that a starting point for critical thinking and teaching is to tell students to imagine a horrible atrocity from a positive point of view. This stereotype of thought often appears in popular culture as what rhetoric or debate offer. Nothing is further from the truth. If Taylor had actually prepared to teach his class, he would have provided them ample readings from scholars of the time who discuss why it was that people who were decent citizens in every other respect would consider it normal and healthy to own other human beings. That’s a conversation worth having, and that’s something where the critical thinker could make connections between our discourse about global economics and the terrible conditions of Chinese labor could be recognized as a more modern version of this atrocity.

Thinking that coming up with a logical argument to justify atrocity without any consideration of context is evidence of only one argument: A lazy, unprepared teacher who should not be teaching in the first place. But isn’t the blame really with the supervisors and mentors who clearly didn’t inquire, or investigate, or suggest how to teach to their graduate student?