A history of questions and questionable history

Throughout history, men, scientists, philosophers, rhetoricians - women - have posed questions about what we know, how we know, what we need to know, and what we need to teach. Are we born with innate knowledge, or is life a continuous quest for knowledge building upon itself? How and why do we think? The answers to these questions have driven instruction, education, and curricula for centuries and have been largely reactionary to the current trends of the day in which they were posed. As Johanna brought up in class, Giambattista Vico was a humanist who believed we have an innate nature of knowledge. He suggested there are three stages of understanding and three types of knowledge. Maria Teresa Maiullari, in "Giambattista Vico," relates that Vico believed the educator should "be familiar with the natural predisposition of the human soul and must impel the student to develop this familiarity as well" (1). Learning, in other words, must be transformed into knowledge, and language was the mode by which communication and transmission of knowledge occurred. Vico was concerned with the "social and legal ordering" of society (5), but his ideal was the "attainment of an 'eternal natural Republic ordered by Divine Providence'" (3). In this manner, Vico believed there was an order to society and to government. God determined the providential order, but through self-autonomous study, students could learn their place in the hierarchy of social order. Learning and knowledge of all things was a process, and he believed that a well-rounded education included math and science. Vico's concern about the human condition, innate knowledge, and his belief that rhetoric was "a means rather than not an end to knowledge" (5) varied from the traditional modes of thought, education, and discourse that existed before him. He promoted a new way of thinking that was not widely accepted, but would be in time, as a humanistic approach to how we learn. Lester Faigley promotes a new way of thinking as well with regard to visual rhetoric's affect on what we see, what we know, and how we write. Vico might say that the predisposition of the human soul and self-autonomous study lead to our understanding of visual rhetoric.

Like Vico, John Locke had a love of scientific knowledge, but he differed from Vico in his view of knowledge and understanding. As Dawn suggested, Vico was a follower of the nurture rather than nature theory of acquiring knowledge and sharing it through language. Language's purpose, according to Vico, was to share thoughts and ideas as quickly and easily as possible, and to "convey the knowledge of things" (425). He believed we were not born with innate knowledge, and proposed that we acquire knowledge through experience. Experience takes the forms of sensation and reflection. We get our ideas from our five senses, and then we reflect (426). Locke varied from the traditional methods of teaching rhetoric. He questioned whether we should be drawing from canonical "artistic proofs" through use of the topics, or whether new avenues in "inartistic proofs" should be pursued from outside sources (425). Locke moves away from the classical topics and looks toward outside influences for invention.

Despite the centuries between them, Linda Flower and John Locke share similarities in their beliefs about how we learn. Flower is one who delves into cognitive processes and strategic problem-solving approaches to writing. Locke might concur about the ways in which we gain knowledge. Acquiring knowledge through experience is an aspect of cognitive learning. Like Locke, Flower is a proponent of the cognitive aspect of rhetoric.

David Hume influenced the knowledge of the masses through his historical publications, but the writing of history poses a number of problems. In "The Cambridge Companion to Hume," we read that Hume himself wondered "...how could we claim to have first-hand knowledge of the existence of Julius Caesar when the sources we relied on were in fact copies of copies?" (286). When does a primary source become a non-primary source? Do copies of copies besmirch history? What if the original documents have been copied incorrectly, abridged, expanded upon, or taken out of context? As for Hume, could he have, in order to make history more appealing to women, embellished or altered his writing of history to make it more entertaining to them than their "ordinary books of amusement?" (282). A problem with history is the writing of it. One person's view of history and his perspective about what he has seen, influences writing. Hume noted this when he studied ancient civilizations and found that ancient scribes could not have portrayed an accurate representation of society (288). Perspectives can be skewed. Although Hume claimed to record history with impartiality, he also claimed to "support Whigs and Tories alternately" (301). Hume seems to be partial to whatever side he happened upon. His history, therefore, would reflect what he saw from his perspective at a particular time. Might any of us expect that we could ever have a truly impartial, accurate history? Stanley Fish, skeptic that he is, might wonder the same thing. In his August 24 blog, he writes, "...I have no problem with alternative ways of teaching literature or history," and also implies that there is not a canon for teaching history (3). Which is the correct history to teach? The answer to this question, as is the answer to all questions, is dependent on the current trend of the day.

Living, Breathing Rhetoric

This is an anecdote but pertinent.
Today my students convinced me to be part of a fund-raiser in which I will get a pie thrown in my face. I had no intention of doing this (contact lenses and other excuses). However, they used rhetoric skills, and they won. (We've been working on persuasive techniques). They appealed to logos - "You should Mrs. Kelley. It's for a good cause." They appealed to ethos - "The Cancer Society will make sure the money goes to the right places." They appealed to pathos - "My cousin has cancer. You'll be helping people like her." They even used the bandwagon approach: "Other teachers are doing it, too," and they had an answer for my contact lens problem - "Wear goggles." I'll be off to Wal Mart soon to buy goggles and shampoo.

Rhetoric and Oratory Live

Richard Enos begins his "Recovering the Lost Art of Researching the History of Rhetoric" with an anecdote about a speech which he gave fifteen years earlier in which he used the words "rhetoric" and "oratory" (7). His audience, The National Communication Association, reacted strongly because of the words' negative connotations. He offers an explanation for their reaction: "the lack of education and understanding" led to a loss of "the knowledge of the discipline" (9). This group of people who should by all accounts embrace the history of rhetoric and oratory, reacted as if Enos were addressing methods and topics which the NCA had outgrown. Part of the problem for the NCA at the time was that they promoted a humanistic approach to the research of rhetoric. A current result of this approach has been that research has become criticism (13). Enos also realizes "that much of the work published in journals was not research but rather commentary" (11). Research has become an end to a process rather than an art that is sensitive to new growth. How do we reclaim the art? How might we keep our approaches to researching rhetoric fresh and alive? Enos suggests that we need to participate in primary research, and interview "theoreticians and practitioners of rhetoric and oratory" (17). If we do not, the result may be that history is lost forever.

In "Rhetoric and Praxis," Edward P.J. Corbett, Maxine C. Hairston, and James Kinneavy also suggest ways in which the concepts of rhetoric may be kept alive. Corbett relates that writing teachers have devoted increased attention to heuristics. He attributes the "sudden resurgence of interest in the canon of rhetoric" (43) to learning about the ways in which writers write. For the past several years, teachers have shown greater concern for process. Today's teachers are simply renewing interest in one of the classical canons originated before Aristotle. His topoi, the common and special topics, were starting places from which speech or writing could begin. Topoi served orators well for centuries, but ran into a snag when Hugh Blair devalued them. Blair referred to the Latin loci (Greek topoi) and wrote in "Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres," that the Grecian sophists gave an orator "recipes for making speeches on all manner of subjects" (50). Blair seems to be saying that it's not really invention if it's prescribed or formulaic. Blair lectured for twenty-four years at the University of Edinburgh in the 1700s, but his influence endured into the 20th century. His views likely contributed to the demise of invention, and may be the reason that "teachers today have declined to use this heuristic system in the composition classroom" (51). Fortunately for today's writers, heuristics have reappeared. Some students need a place to begin.

Maxine C. Hairston promotes reintroducing the enthymeme as an invention. It is a strategy she and other scholars believe incorporates rational, ethical, and emotional appeal in rhetoric and personal discourse (59). Hairston identifies problems she believes have had a harmful influence in the history of the enthymeme, including that many people involved in rhetoric have misunderstood or oversimplified it, ignored its importance because of their disinterest in rhetoric, and that composition courses have shifted from "product to process" (60). The enthymeme is a time-saving device from which a writer will have a place to begin. Because it addresses all the appeals, it is an effective device.

James Kinneavy also acknowledges the validity of the enthymeme, (60) and promotes kairos in today's composition classes. He notes that kairos is absent from some of the modern texts that accompany university courses. But could it be that if kairos is not directly taught, it is implicitly taught? Do we not promote timing? Are our essays not on timely subjects? We typically encourage students to compose topics on which timing is of the essence.

Enos, Corbett, Hairston, and Kinneavy promote incorporating traditional rhetorical concepts in today's composition classrooms. Yes, some are formulaic, but considering the numbers of students who lack composition skills by the time they arrive at our universities and colleges, students need invention and the timing that kairos affords, and they need to be able to obtain primary evidence. An article, "New Push Seeks to End Need for Pre-College Remedial Classes" appeared in the New York Times in May of 2009, stated that millions of students must take remedial or developmental composition courses. Perhaps if these rhetorical concepts are introduced or implemented earlier, students might have a better foundation - and one to build upon - when they begin their post-secondary education.

Self-actualization and Real Writers

In "Pre-Writing: Models for Concept Formation in Writing," Gordon Rohman and Albert Wlecke examine traditional methods of teaching writing and find that neither "intensive evaluation" nor frequent practice improves writing quality (217). They explore the processes by which people arrive at concepts, one of which is Jerome Bruner's "concept formation," (218), and find his phrase to be somewhat lacking. They coin their own term "concept transference." By their definition, concept transference is based on the premise "that a major task of the writer is to discover within himself a pattern with which to organize his subject" (218). Most of us writers likely do form concepts and organize our thoughts into a recognizable pattern which leads to discovery (perhaps even an epiphany), and transfer our newly-found treasure to paper and speech.

Rohman and Wlecke further explain that people inherit concepts rather than form them, and those concepts echo their culture (219). Rohman and Wlecke assert that "There is no one philosophy of writing" and "there can be no one method to teach it (221). The two based their research and developed a course on the following belief: "that writing is a form of human behavior, but more specifically, is a form of human self-actualization, and in writing a person is satisfying his basic needs for self-affirmation as well as the immediate, practical needs for communication" (221).


I beg to differ, at least as far as most beginning writers are concerned. For the purpose of this argument, I refer to beginning writers as most students in grades K-12 and a quite few undergraduates. In our educational systems all students must write. Some students will find discovery in writing but only a few will achieve self-actualization. While a few are motivated to write, for the majority, it is a process that is required at all levels in all educational institutions. Could required writing by its very nature squelch discovery and prevent self-actualization? Perhaps it is because students must write that they write poorly. Could it be that not all humans are meant to be writers?

Rohman and Wlecke begin their essay by asking, "Why do students write poorly?" (216). They also ask, "...why does not more of a student's language teaching 'stick'?" (217).


I offer this explanation: students forget because their writing has no relevancy.

Every year I must reteach aspects of English that students have learned and forgotten. One of the teachers in our discussion group reflected that students claimed they had never before been taught sentence structures. I am certain that teachers before me have taught parts of speech, grammar, and the types and kinds of sentences, yet students forget what a noun is from one year to the next. When students write about a topic that is relevant to them - perhaps about an issue related to their culture - their writing comes alive. Personal narratives are easy to teach, because students write about something they know. But I must teach other modes, and it is in those modes that language loses its "stick." An aspect of my pedagogy is that I must be a motivator in order to help students find a connection and relevancy in their writing. One more thing I've found to be true: frequent practice and evaluation has helped my students improve their writing.

Rohman and Wlecke offer insightful evidence and a valuable tool for our writers' bags, but for some, traditional approaches still work.