How to win an argument with Cicero

Part XIV of the Ancient Wisdom for Modern Readers series

[Based on How to Win an Argument: An Ancient Guide to the Art of Persuasion, by Cicero, translated by James M. May. Full book series here.]

Rhetoric, these days, has a fairly bad reputation. “Rhetorical” is not an adjective typically used in a complimentary fashion. Indeed, I know a number of colleagues, especially in the sciences, who recoil in horror at the suggestion that they should improve their rhetorical skills.

And yet, “rhetorical” simply means eloquently expressed (originally from the Greek rhētorikos), and why would anyone object to expressing themselves eloquently?

Part of the problem is that rhetoric is closely associated with sophistry, and the latter—thanks to the somewhat unfair treatment by Plato—is forever engrained in common consciousness as a bad thing. After all, the Sophists were the intellectual ancestors of modern lawyers and post-modern bullshitters.

Unwittingly, Aristotle didn’t help either. He famously wrote that there are three components to a good (meaning persuasive) argument:

Logos: getting one’s facts and reasoning straight;

Ethos: convincing the audience of the goodness of one’s credentials;

Pathos: engaging the audience at an emotional level, to make sure they care about the subject matter.

My typical science colleagues (and a good number of my philosophy colleagues, those who are not familiar with Aristotle) would certainly agree on the logos. But they would limit the ethos to listing their academic credentials and would be shocked by the notion of, as they would likely put it, “emotionally manipulating” the audience.

But the fact is that the ethos goes beyond simply adding the letters “PhD” (or “MD,” or whatever) after one’s name. Most importantly, according to Aristotle, it encompasses one’s character, because the speaker or writer has to convince her listeners or readers that she is someone worth paying attention to not just at a technical level, but as a human being armed with good intentions, the latter the reflection of a good character.

As for the pathos, it isn’t a question of emotional manipulation, it’s a question of convincing people that they should give a crap about whatever it is we are talking about. Someone may be the most knowledgeable person in the world on subject matter X. But unless I care about X it simply won’t matter to me. I won’t be disposed to listen.

If the above makes sense to you, and I hope it does, then you can hardly ask for a better guide to rhetoric than the ancient Roman orator, public advocate, statesman, and philosopher Marcus Tullius Cicero. Arguably, even better than Aristotle himself, who after all limited his inquiries to the theoretical side of things. Cicero actually practiced what he taught, and very successfully at that!

How to Win an Argument is a collection of the best of what Cicero has to say on rhetoric and public discourse, translated by James M. May for Princeton Press’s Ancient Wisdom for Modern Readers series.

Cicero began to write on the subject when he was still a teenager, and even though he later referred to that attempt, known as De Inventione, as “the sketchy and unsophisticated work that found its way out of my notebooks when I was a boy, or rather a youth,” it actually influenced discussions on oratory throughout the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance. Near the end of his life, in 45 BCE, during an incredible outburst of creativity generated by political exile (Caesar was in power in Rome) and grief (his daughter Tullia had just died in childbirth), Cicero wrote a number of philosophical treatises, but also Brutus, a history of Roman oratory, and De Oratore, which makes up a good part of How to Win an Argument.

May, the translator, helpfully summarizes Cicero’s advice on these matters in the following “cheat sheet”:

I. Nature, art, and practice, practice, practice. A good speaker is someone who has a natural inclination toward oratory, just like a good musician and a good athlete have a natural inclination toward music and sports respectively. But in all three cases success is also a matter of mastering the corresponding art and, especially, of a lot of practice.

II. Eloquence is a powerful weapon. Far from turning our nose up to the whole idea of eloquence we have to recognize its power to change people’s minds. But of course, as philosopher Peter Parker famously said, with great power comes great responsibility, which is what distinguishes a philosopher (or an honest lawyer) from a sophist (or a dishonest lawyer).

III. Identify, arrange, memorize. A good presentation is the result of first identifying the point(s) at issue, then arranging the material in a logical and strategically effective fashion, and finally committing the key points to memory so that one doesn’t hamper one’s own delivery.

IV. Not by logic alone. As I mentioned above, a good speaker also has to convince the audience that she is trustworthy and reliable, as well as to engage people emotionally so that they give a damn about what she has to say.

V. Know your audience. Not all audiences are created equal. You wouldn’t present your arguments the same way regardless of whether you were talking to a friend or presenting a brief in front of the Supreme Court, would you?

VI. Be clear, be correct. Use clear and appropriate language. You want to be understood by people, not go over their heads, or irritate them.

VII. Delivery matters. Ever had a teacher who was obviously very knowledgeable of the material but couldn’t convey his excitement if his life depended on it? Pity, no?

VIII. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Or so they say, and they are right, in the case of oratory. Cicero’s suggestion was to find good role models and try to creatively imitate their best and most fitting techniques.

IX. The pen is often mightier than the sword. Don’t trust Cicero on this one, turn to Julius Caesar instead. Referring to Cicero’s works, Caesar once said:

It is more important to have greatly extended the frontiers of the Roman spirit than the frontiers of the Roman empire. (Pliny, Natural History, VII.117)

X. Words, without substance, are hollow things. Remember the inept but knowledgeable teacher mentioned at VII? Well, it’s opposite is the salesman (or the politician) who is very eloquent, but has nothing worthwhile to sell. You need to have both: eloquence and substance.

Follow the above recommendations and you will achieve the ideal attributed to Cato the Younger, another of Rome’s great statesmen. You will become a vir bonus dicendi peritus (a good person, skilled in speaking).

The following are some highlights from How to Win an Argument, with accompanying brief commentaries:

I think nothing is more admirable than being able, through speech, to take hold of human minds, to win over their inclinations, to drive them at will in one direction, and to draw them at will from another. It is this ability, more than anything else, that has ever flourished, ever reigned supreme in every free nation and especially in quiet and peaceful communities. (from De Oratore)

Here Cicero is in awe at the power of persuasive speech, as a lawyer ought to be! It is indeed a marvelous thing that we can change other people’s minds and affect their actions merely by talking to them.

Notice that Cicero argues that it is this power of persuasion that is at the basis of the survival and flourishing of free and peaceful nations. That is one reason all modern democracies recognize freedom of speech as one of their highest values.

Often and much have I pondered the question of whether fluency of speech and a consuming devotion to eloquence have brought more good or evil to people and their communities. (from De Inventione)

Despite the above mentioned recognition of the awesomeness of the power of persuasion, Cicero is also well aware of its potential dangers as well. As he goes on to explain in that bit of De Inventione, he knows from first-hand experience that unscrupulous demagogues can cause irreparable damage to national institutions and even trigger a civil war.

Today we face a similar conundrum, with populist politicians on the rise worldwide and a number of predictable negative consequences befalling us all. This problem is precisely why both Aristotle and Cicero insists that the three parts of the oratorical arts—logos, ethos, and pathos—cannot be separated. One way to think of a demagogue is as someone who cheats on ethos, overplays the pathos, and ignores the logos.

On our side fights modesty, on their side impudence; on our side decency, on theirs disgracefulness; on our side good faith, on theirs deceit; on ours dutifulness, on theirs criminality; on ours firmness of purpose, on theirs raving madness; on ours the honorable, on theirs the base; on ours continence, on theirs lust; finally, justice, temperance, fortitude, prudence—all the virtues contend with injustice, prodigality, cowardice, imprudence—with all the vices. (from Catilinam)

I wanted to give you a small taste of Cicero’s actual oratorical prowess, in this case from one of his justly famous speeches about Catiline, the conspirator against the Republic whom Cicero eventually defeated during the year of his consulship.

Notice how Cicero—who delivered the speech in front of the full Senate—draws a sharp contrast between supporters of the Republic and rebels, with the goal of making clear in the minds of his colleagues just how high the stakes really are.

Another thing to notice is the explicit list of the four cardinal virtues—justice, temperance, fortitude, and prudence—recognized by Stoics, Platonists, and other Hellenistic schools. Cicero again dramatically contrasts them with the corresponding vices: injustice, prodigality, cowardice, and imprudence.

That we should say something before addressing the case, then set forth the case, after that prove it by establishing our own arguments and refuting those of our opponents, then conclude our speech and so bring it to an end—this is prescribed by the very nature of oratory. (from De Oratore)

The advice given by Cicero in this passage of De Oratore is to remember the basic structure of a good presentation, be that in a court of law, an academic debate, or even an intense conversation with friends. We need an introduction to set the stage, followed by a clear presentation of our case. After that, we defend our case and also preemptively attack the contrasting position, ending with a proper conclusion that likely will include a recapitulation of our main points.

Every argument is refuted in one of these ways: if one or more of its assumptions is not granted; or if the assumptions are granted, it is denied that a conclusion can be drawn from them; or the actual form of argument is shown to be fallacious; or a strong argument is countered by one equally strong or stronger. (from De Inventione)

There aren’t many ways to attack an argument, and here Cicero lists them all. It’s all about looking at both the internal structure and the underlying assumptions of the argument. Many bad arguments are simply the result of faulty assumptions or fallacious reasoning. In some cases, however, a given argument may be rather good, in which case our best bet is to come up with a counterargument that is even better. The latter situation will occur, for instance, when there is more than one viable solution to a problem, and yet some solutions may be manifestly more viable, by whatever criteria, than others.

[Next in this series: How to be a friend with Cicero. Previous installments: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII.]