Every so often, the recognition of a fault in someone else highlights the same fault in ourselves. When I began teaching logic-school children, I quickly noticed a tendency among some to defend a position to the death (usually, in this case, the ridicule of classmates). I have exhibited, and sometimes still exhibit, the same stubbornness, which springs from pride. Once locked into a view, admittance of its error requires humility, which is less preferable than finding any way to defend the viewpoint. This vice of being right privileges the self over the truth and, when cultivated, leads the individual to bad conclusions. The student must be taught to privilege the truth over their ego. One way to teach this lesson is to associate debate, whether formal or informal, with ethics.
Doug Wilson relates the three liberal arts of the trivium to knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. Grammar associates with knowledge, dialectic with understanding, and rhetoric with wisdom. The art of debate involves all three, but it is often introduced to the student in the dialectic, or logic, stage. Wilson describes this stage: “In the classical method, dialectic refers to the practice of sorting out and relating all the knowledge that has been, and is being, accumulated.” Wilson’s relation of this stage to understanding can provide clarity as to why both dialectic and logic are used to describe what goes on at this time in the child’s education. Dialectic and logic are different but are both ways of understanding and making proper distinctions. Logic may be understood as the movement from a premise or set of premises to a conclusion, as Aristotle claims. I will return to the dialectic process below in reference to Socrates.
Wilson also draws a correlation between dialectic, understanding and ethics: “‘The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments’ (Ps. 111:10). Notice that in Scripture, understanding has a strong ethical component. Now a scriptural approach to ethics emphasizes discernment––that is, this and not that… Learning to distinguish rightly, learning to evaluate, is the meaning of holiness.” In other words, dialectic employs the practice of discernment which, for Christians, is a moral practice. It is a moral practice because, despite the claims of modern science, truth is not neutral. All truth is God’s truth, which is to say, we ought to call things what they are. Speaking the truth is not just an ontological matter, saying what is or is not, but an ethical one as well.
To associate the practice of debate with dialectic, then, is to make debate an ethical issue. Debate incorporates the dialectic work of discerning and evaluating, which is ultimately the work of discerning truth. If you and I are debating an issue such as abortion, the debate will need to define terms such as life, death, conception, choice, free will, and so on. You can see how the ways we distinguish these terms will carry moral weight. If we give these terms false names, we will arrive at improper conclusions, not only about what is but also what ought to be done. If we do not call an unborn fetus a life, we misname the fetus and do not consider the action of abortion a murder.
Perhaps the best way to define dialectic is to examine the process at work. The Platonic dialogues provide an excellent paradigm of this process. In the dialogue Euthyphro, an ethical decision on the part of Euthyphro brings Socrates to challenge his understanding of piety.
The dialogue begins with Socrates and Euthyphro meeting in court, where both are awaiting trial. A suit has been brought upon Socrates: he is charged with corrupting the youth. Euthyphro, meanwhile, seeks to sue his father for the murder of a servant. Although such an action appears to violate the piety of a son towards his father, Euthyphro claims his action to be pious by the higher standard of the gods. Socrates (with trademark irony) praises his luck in finding such a pious individual and asks to be Euthyphro’s disciple. If Euthyphro can teach Socrates piety, Socrates will be off the hook for the charge of impiety.
Euthyphro begins by holding up his own action as an example of piety. He correlates his action to Zeus’ binding of Cronos for his unjust consumption of his own children. Socrates replies that this is merely an example of piety. What Socrates seeks to know is the general idea or form (eidos) of piety.
Euthyphro then offers that piety must be what is pleasing to the gods. Socrates deflates this definition by pointing out the tendency of the gods to disagree on many matters. Euthyphro refines his definition to say: piety is what is pleasing to all the gods. Socrates then presents what is known as the Euthyphro Dilemma: Is something pious because it is loved by the gods, or is it loved by the gods because it is pious?
The pair redirects the discussion, and Euthyphro defines piety as justice. Socrates asks for clarification, and Euthyphro limits piety to justice which attends to the gods. Socrates presses upon the meaning of attend; for to attend to a horse or to dogs is to give the attention which is beneficial to them. What does it mean for man to attend to the gods? Do the gods receive some benefit from men?
Euthyphro describes the attention which men give to gods as that of servants to masters. Socrates asks what benefit do gods receive from men? Euthyphro says that they are too many to list; summarizing piety as learning to please the gods by word and deeds. Socrates asks a clarifying question: whether piety is not then the science of praying and sacrificing. Euthyphro affirms this definition. Socrates continues: if prayer is asking the gods what we want, isn’t piety a kind of business transaction between gods and men, where both get something that they want? The problem with this, of course, is that man has no true benefit to offer gods. This turns back into the Euthyphro dilemma, and Euthyphro runs off to court.
Notice what is going on in this dialogue. Socrates and Euthyphro are working toward a definition of piety. Their dialectic does more than satiate curiosity: for both individuals, the nature of piety directly informs the ethical issues which bring them to court. Euthyphro wields piety as a defense for suing his father. Socrates hopes (even if ironically) to learn piety from Euthyphro in order to counter the charge of impiety leveled against him.
In their discussion of piety, the pair bring up a number of different ideas which also need definition such as justice, holiness, attention, and prayer. Sometimes these terms are assumed; other times, the interlocutors take a moment to clarify a new term before moving on. The dialogue follows a general pattern: a) some definition is offered; b) said definition is refuted by a question or counterexample; c) the original definition is refined to account for the discrepancy. Socrates progresses toward a clearer notion of what piety is by pointing to what it is not. Notice that Euthyphro’s definitions are not completely off the mark. Rather, his definitions fall prey to over-simplification. The dialectic process, then, can be summarized in the threefold process: thesis, antithesis, synthesis.
We can find this process in Christ’s teaching as well. Consider the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10: 25-37). A lawyer stands up to test Jesus with a question. Jesus replies with a question of his own, which challenges the lawyer in the lawyer’s own field. In other words, Jesus expects the lawyer to offer a thesis. Jesus agrees with the lawyer’s definition, but the lawyer presses further, asking “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus responds with a parable which demonstrates the principle in question. This is, we might say, an antithesis to the lawyer’s assumption of who his neighbor is, or indeed of any Jew’s conception of his neighbor, keeping in mind the prevalent racism against Samaritans. The lawyer ratifies the Samaritan as the neighbor. The passage ends with an ethical imperative: “Go and do likewise.”
The dialectic process imitates the context in which the vice of being right commonly arises. In formal debates, students are often assigned positions which they do not believe. In an informal context, students have more freedom to choose and invent their own theses. If the student learns to defend his ego over the truth in the classroom, he will do the same elsewhere. Suddenly he cares less about whether his parents are right, and would rather win the argument. When older, he does not know how to hear his wife, but only how to defend himself. While understanding the ethical implications of debate is not the only solution, teaching students that their ideas have consequences may provide one way of helping them to privilege the truth over themselves.
Samuel, what is the impact of your last paragraph on the art of debate in education today? Ought we not ask students to defend untrue things to avoid the pride of manipulation of language to private ends? Or are you just saying the student should be made aware of how the skill of debate can be misused?