The classical rhetorical concept, frequently
ascribed to Quintillian, that morality plays an important role in good rhetoric
is an optimistic and encouraging thought.
Unfortunately, the concept of the perfect rhetor as a “good man speaking
well” is total B.S. It would be lovely
to think that all evil people with immoral agendas would totally bomb every
time they stepped on stage, but there are too many examples to the contrary to
believe this. Look no further than Adolf
Hitler. One of the greatest orators of
modern history is one of the evilest.
Consider the reputation of the modern law industry. The upholders of justice are commonly seen as
liars. My father was a defense attorneys
for many years and he effectively defended cases for people he knew were
guilty. It’s why he abandoned to start his own business. It’s nice to think that all things being the
same the better man “will prove the better orator.” I simply believe, despite Quintillian’s weak
arguments dissolving Demosthenes and Cicero of guilt, that it’s not true.
Two books come to mind in considering
this topic. The first is a A Hero of Our Time by Mikhail Lermontov.
It is a counterargument to Quintillian’s premise that the minds of immoral
people will be clouded by guilt when attempting good rhetoric. Lermontov’s book is an exploration into the
mind of Grigory Alexandrovich Pechorin, the most recklessly unapologetic
immoral character I’ve ever had the (dis)pleasure of experiencing. For fun I’ll provide one example that is
merely a warm-up for our “hero’s” later misdeeds. My memory’s not perfect, but the gist is that
Pechorin steals a prize horse, trades it to a man in exchange for his sister, keeps
her captive for a full year essentially as a sex-slave, gets tired of her,
casts her out into lands of a rival tribe who kill her, and then he kills her
father to make sure he doesn't uncover anything. At the end of it all he blames a cruel fate
for granting him an unfulfilled life in which he cannot stay interested in a
love for any long period of time. He plays manipulative schemes on others for
amusement and then blames fate and walks away.
His lack of a conscious is astounding and enviable. He just really,
really, really doesn't care about being terrible. Pechorin is a criticism of the Russian aristocracy
in the 1830s that did nothing good with their wealth, complained of the boredom
and lack of fulfillment in their lives, and played petty games of courtly
manipulation. These people, slightly
less terrible versions of Pechorin, are real.
They're out there. And they don't
care if they're being terrible, and their guilt plays no role in muddling the
reasoning behind their oratory.
The second book, Wizards First Rule by Terry Goodkind,
concentrates on a theme I now realize is very much a rhetorical theory. The wizard’s
first rule is: people are more inclined to believe a falsehood than a truth if
the lie is something they want to hear, or are very afraid to hear. A little understanding of human psychology
and bit of skill for manipulation can have people believing radical
things. Consider “the war on terror”
that began after 9/11. We were told
there were weapons of mass destructions that were a real threat to us. We were
told there would be a stunning victory to resoundingly avenge all the innocent
deaths. Of course, we found no WMDs and
such clear cut victory has eluded us as we still fail in creating any real kind
of lasting peace. But at the time of
9/11 these were the things we wanted to hear and the things we were afraid to
hear, and so in November 2001 according to Gallup polls, 89 percent of the
population was in favor the war.
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