Think for a moment whether you can imagine Socrates saying, “Let’s stop talking and go play; we all know you can learn as much about a person in an hour of play as in a year of conversation.”

One of Sarah Palin’s favorite rhetorical moves is the maxim. She resorts again and again to brief sayings she intends to be pithy and apt. Just off the top of my head on Friday I remember her mentioning that only dead fish go with the flow and that, as her parents’ refrigerator stated, your friends don’t need explanations and your enemies won’t believe them.

She often too attributes the maxim she is quoting to some authority or other. One danger in doing this type of thing, especially if you do so without having done more than cursory research or are speaking off the top of your head, is attribution to the wrong source. When she stated that General McArthur had said, “We’re not retreating, we are advancing in a different direction,” she apparently was quoting  General Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller, not Douglas McArthur. Of course, Puller isn’t known to her audience (nor to me or, likely, to her), so the quote would not pack the same impact if properly attributed.

The bigger problem, though, is the credibility lost due to improper attribution. But there’s even more danger. You can look just plain stupid. In her Runner’s World interview last week, she said, “We like to have other people participate in these activities with us because, as Plato said, ‘You learn more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation.’” The Weekly Standard (in a post actually entitled “The Philosopher Queen” and now mysteriously gone from its web site(Google cached version), blogged on Wednesday, June 29th: “Sarah Palin mentions a (perhaps apocryphal) quote fromPlat0 in her fascinating interview with Runner’s World.”

Perhaps apocryphal? Could anyone who thinks about Plato for one minute doubt the quote does not come from Plato? Plato’s entire corpus is in dialogue form. His version of Socrates is the foundation of Western philosophy. How is Socrates always portrayed? In conversation. Could you imagine Socrates and Plato suggesting that the dialogues Socrates engaged in should be broken up for some play because “you learn more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation”? It’s ridiculous. It’s ridiculous to even think so, and it betrays nothing but thoughtlessness.

Rhetoric, hot air, and powerful speech

Charlotte Higgins in the Guardian writes about Barak Obama’s power as a speaker and its connections to ancient oratory, Obama’s training as a lawyer, and the connections between writing and speaking:

There have been many controversial aspects to this presidential election, but one thing is uncontroversial: that Obama’s skill as an orator has been one of the most important factors – perhaps the most important factor – in his victory. The sheer numbers of people who have heard him speak live set him apart from his rivals – and, indeed, recall the politics of ancient Athens, where the public speech given to ordinary voters was the motor of politics, and where the art of rhetoric matured alongside democracy.

Obama has bucked the trend of recent presidents – not excluding Bill Clinton – for dumbing down speeches. . . .Though he has speechwriters, he does much of the work himself. (Jon Favreau, the 27-year-old who heads Obama’s speechwriting team, has said that his job is like being “Ted Williams’s batting coach.”) . . .

More than once, the adjective that has been deployed to describe Obama’s oratorical skill is “Ciceronian”. Cicero, the outstanding Roman politician of the late republic, was certainly the greatest orator of his time, and one of the greatest in history. A fierce defender of the republican constitution, his criticism of Mark Antony got him murdered in 43BC.

During the Roman republic (and in ancient Athens) politics was oratory. In Athens, questions such as whether or not to declare war on an enemy state were decided by the entire electorate (or however many bothered to turn up) in open debate. Oratory was the supreme political skill, on whose mastery power depended. Unsurprisingly, then, oratory was highly organised and rigorously analysed. The Greeks and Romans, in short, knew all the rhetorical tricks, and they put a name to most of them.

It turns out that Obama knows them, too. One of the best known of Cicero’s techniques is his use of series of three to emphasise points: the tricolon. (The most enduring example of a Latin tricolon is not Cicero’s, but Caesar’s “Veni, vidi, vici” – I came, I saw, I conquered.) Obama uses tricola freely. Here’s an example: “Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our nation, not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy …” In this passage, from the 2004 Democratic convention speech, Obama is also using the technique of “praeteritio” – drawing attention to a subject by not discussing it. (He is discounting the height of America’s skyscrapers etc, but in so doing reminds us of their importance.)

One of my favourites among Obama’s tricks was his use of the phrase “a young preacher from Georgia”, when accepting the Democratic nomination this August; he did not name Martin Luther King. The term for the technique is “antonomasia”. One example from Cicero is the way he refers to Phoenix, Achilles’ mentor in the Iliad, as “senior magister” – “the aged teacher”. In both cases, it sets up an intimacy between speaker and audience, the flattering idea that we all know what we are talking about without need for further exposition. It humanises the character – King was just an ordinary young man, once. Referring to Georgia by name localises the reference – Obama likes to use the specifics to American place to ground the winged sweep of his rhetoric – just as in his November 4 speech: “Our campaign … began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston”, which, of course, is also another tricolon. . . .

It is not just in the intricacies of speechifying that Obama recalls Cicero. Like Cicero, Obama is a lawyer. Like Cicero, Obama is a writer of enormous accomplishment – Dreams From My Father, Obama’s first book, will surely enter the American literary canon. Like Cicero, Obama is a “novus homo” – the Latin phrase means “new man” in the sense of self-made. Like Cicero, Obama entered politics without family backing (compare Clinton) or a military record (compare John McCain). Roman tradition dictated you had both. The compensatory talent Obama shares with Cicero, says Catherine Steel, professor of classics at the University of Glasgow, is a skill at “setting up a genealogy of forebears – not biological forebears but intellectual forebears. For Cicero it was Licinius Crassus, Scipio Aemilianus and Cato the Elder. For Obama it is Lincoln, Roosevelt and King.”

Steel also points out how Obama’s oratory conforms to the tripartite ideal laid down by Aristotle, who stated that good rhetoric should consist of pathos, logos and ethos – emotion, argument and character. . . .

In English, when we use the word “rhetoric”, it is generally preceded by the word “empty”. Rhetoric has a bad reputation. McCain warned lest an electorate be “deceived by an eloquent but empty call for change”. Waspishly, Clinton noted, “You campaign in poetry, you govern in prose.” The Athenians, too, knew the dangers of a populace’s being swept along by a persuasive but unscrupulous demagogue (and they invented the word). And it was the Roman politician Cato – though it could have been McCain – who said “Rem tene, verba sequentur”. If you hold on to the facts, the words will follow.

Cicero was well aware of the problem. In his book On The Orator, he argues that real eloquence can be acquired only if the speaker has attained the highest state of knowledge – “otherwise what he says is just an empty and ridiculous swirl of verbiage”. The true orator is one whose practice of citizenship embodies a civic ideal – whose rhetoric, far from empty, is the deliberate, rational, careful organiser of ideas and argument that propels the state forward safely and wisely. This is clearly what Obama, too, is aiming to embody: his project is to unite rhetoric, thought and action in a new politics that eschews narrow bipartisanship. Can Obama’s words translate into deeds? The presidency of George Bush provided plenty of evidence that a man who has problems with his prepositions may also struggle to govern well. We can only hope that Obama’s presidency proves that opposite.

One of the most impressive and useful things to me about Obama’s speeches is his ability to unite his rhetorical moves (like the use of anaphora and epiphora noted in the Higgins’ article) to very powerful themes.

The most notable example of this to me was his 2004 Convention speech — the part about there not being a “Red or Blue America,” but, rather, “a United States of America,” etc. That speech, in addition to employing numerous rhetorical flourishes, employed them all to further the idea we who grew up in the U.S. have all grown up with: e pluribus unum; out of many, one. To me, that idea — that we are a united country precisely because we recognize and respect our vast differences — has always been one of the best things of what it means to be a U.S. citizen.

Sometimes I think that when we talk about rhetoric we focus on the devices at the price of the content we mean them to convey. I always think the primary task is to identify a theme or themes the speaker/writer wants to convey — then one can use the devices to further that theme. Without the theme, the devices really are just empty rhetoric.

What’s so wrong about looking to foreign law?

An Australian correspondent writes, in response to my post yesterday

What’s surprising to me as an Australian is that there is any controversy at all. There’s a huge difference between looking at various sources for examples of reasoning and acknowledging established local precedent as representing the law. From 1st year our students are taught the difference between persuasive and binding authority. Isn’t it healthier to be transparent about the reasoning process rather than pretending that judges aren’t sometimes influenced by personal ideology or politics or God forbid, high level judicial reasoning from othe jurisdictions with a common legal heritage?

He also reminds me of a law review article written here in the States over ten years ago that, on the same grounds, questions the basis for any objection to using foreign law for guidance in making U.S. law.  In “All the World’s a Courtroom, Judging in the New Millennium,” 26 Hofstra L. Rev. 273 (Winter 1997), Shirley S. Abrahamson and Michael J. Fischer opened with the description of an oral argument in a case before the Wisconsin Supreme Court:

In the . . . case, the defendant, a one-time farmer who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, struck and injured the head nurse in a health care center where he was confined. The court was asked to resolve one issue: Should the farmer be judged by the traditional tort standard of the reasonable person, or given that he was not capable of either controlling or appreciating his conduct, should he be absolved from civil liability altogether? 

In most states, including Wisconsin, the courts ha[d previously] concluded that a mentally disabled person must be held to the same objective standard of care as someone without such a disability. Thus the mentally disabled are generally held liable for their acts under the reasonable person standard.

American legal scholars have sharply criticized this traditional American rule. They point out that applying the reasonable person rule to people with mental conditions, in effect, imposes liability without fault, even though the law of negligence is ordinarily grounded in fault, and even though liability is incompatible with modern views and treatment of the mentally ill. 

Counsel for the farmer urged the Wisconsin Supreme Court to adopt a rule that persons should be held liable only when they know what they are doing.  And like most lawyers urging a court to adopt a new rule, counsel for the farmer sought to reassure the court of the wisdom of change by pointing to law from other jurisdictions, specifically Florida  and Canada, which seemed to buttress her point. If the new rule works there, her reasoning went, then surely it could work in Wisconsin.

Florida, the Canadian case was an entirely different matter altogether. “Petitioner is not aware,” the brief noted archly, “if Canadian case law has precedential value in the United States.” 

Counsel, of course, knew quite well that it does not. But by the same token, neither does Florida law have precedential value in Wisconsin. Why then did the nurse’s counsel single out Canada? Probably because the law of foreign countries is treated today with the suspicion that may have once marked some state courts’ approach toward the law of their sister states.

Today our state courts accept the logic behind Justice Cardozo’s famous remark, in a case involving New York and Massachusetts law. New York is “not so provincial,” Cardozo wrote, “as to say that every solution of a problem is wrong because we deal with it otherwise at home.” But while state courts routinely look to the decisions of their sister jurisdictions for the insights and persuasive value they potentially possess, the nurse’s counsel obviously 

viewed looking across our national borders as an “inherently suspect activity.” 

I was perplexed. Why did the farmer’s counsel’s citation of Canadian law signal desperation and trigger derision? Why, I wondered, should case law from Canada–an English-based, commonlaw jurisdiction geographically closer to Wisconsin than Florida–not be considered persuasive?

Professor Johns and I ask the same question, but now of several members of our country’s Supreme Court, including its Chief Justice.  As far as I can tell, there’s no good reason other than a pandering to the jingoism running strong through our current politics.  One correspondent has taken strong exception to me in essence calling Chief Justice Roberts a xenophobe, and I don’t think he personally is.  Nevertheless, his political support depends on pandering to xenophobia.  I can think of no other reason to close off consideration of arguments and reasoning that may be helpful to resolution of difficult legal questions.

Foreign law and legal argument

I wrote a post over two years ago on the point, but the legitimacy of U.S. courts referring to foreign law is an issue again today because the New York Times published a front page article discussing the waning influence of the U.S. Supreme Court’s decisions on the court decisions of other nations.  One reason, according to the article, is the steady outcry from some quarters against any reference to foreign law in the U.S. courts. 

I find this outcry absurd and positively contrary to the tradition of Anglo-American law.  The common law system, unique to the Anglo-American world, is one that builds law case by case, recognizing that to achieve justice the unique facts of each case require consideration of the arguments of the parties directly affected by those facts.

The key to my point is that the courts hear arguments.  They consider prior precedents, the views of experts, and even the rantings of political idealogues.  There’s nothing wrong with doing so.  There should be no limit on what courts can refer to and rely on; rather, faced with deficient evidence or authority, the answer is correct evidence or authority.  Thus, as I explained two years ago, when a judge relies on the above-referenced political idealogue’s screed about the purported litigation explosion in reaching her decision, the answer isn’t to forbid her from doing so.  The answer is for lawyers and judges to point out that the facts don’t support her argument, that in fact 86% of trial judges surveyed consider frivolous litigation anything from “no problem” to a “small problem,” while only 2% consider it a “big problem.”

Thus, when Anthony Kennedy wrote the majority opinion in the Supreme Court case holding that executing juveniles is “cruel and unusual punishment” under the 8th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, it was perfectly legitimate of him to point out in support of his conclusion that ”evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society” could be measured in part by the fact that no other Western industrialized country executes juveniles.  One may  disagree that U.S. standards are identical to those in other countries.  Justice O’Connor did so in that decision, arguing that “too few states had recently enacted such laws to convince her that the country generally had ’set its face’ against the juvenile death penalty.”

The disagreement between Kennedy and O’Connor is the kind of disagreement courts resolve every day, but to not merely disagree with Kennedy but seek to entirely cut off reference to any source for one’s legal arguments is contrary to any notion of law I understand.  I expect it from (influential) right-wing wackos who think judges should be impeached for even considering foreign law in reaching their decisions.  I don’tf from our most recently appointed and confirmed Supreme Court Justices, John Roberts and Samuel Alito:

At their confirmation hearings, Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. and JusticeSamuel A. Alito Jr. indicated that they were opposed to the citation of foreign law in constitutional cases. Chief Justice Roberts noted that foreign judges were not accountable to the American people and said that allowing the use of foreign precedent expanded judicial discretion.

“Foreign law, you can find anything you want,” Chief Justice Roberts said. “Looking at foreign law for support is like looking out over a crowd and picking out your friends.”

You can just as easily find “anything you want” in virtually any source courts regularly cite.  As I stated above, the answer to bad argument is good argument, not censorship.  There is nothing special about foreign court decisions except, it seems, an ever-growing U.S. fear of everything “foreign.”