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Thursday, November 18, 2010

Foucault and Specific Discourses

What I love about Foucault is how contextual he is. In The Order of Discourse, he shows this in his discussion of reason and madness. He talks about how people who are the outcasts (like the insane or the criminals) are not heard (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 1155). Foucault links this into his past work in asylums and prisons. I have to say that I can really get lost in Foucault’s work…and I mean that in a good way. One semester I got completely involved in reading three of his books during the course of that semester. Other things suffered such as work, home, etc. but my mind was enthralled. With Foucault, I find that I don’t leave feeling satisfied so much with answers as much as new threads to ponder and examples to look for as society and conversation unfolds around me and within me. I suppose, that’s one of the “beginnings” that Foucault discussed (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 1154).

For this blog, I will discuss the how treatment had moved from an intermingling of criminals, madmen, and the poor during the 18th century to the separation of these peoples to deal more directly with their issues (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 1156). Being classified with one of these undesirable groups had previously paralleled guilt and unreason, catching the insane in a confinement of all three. By the 19th century, insanity was considered a social failure, but society did not have a system of recourse other than the confinement solution it had used with each of these three groups. And so the process of locking up the insane began to take shape as institutions figured out how to handle and treat such persons (Foucault, 1988, pp. 259-260). As the insane were now being confined separately, three intertwined solutions were being tested: communication, observation, and judgment.

Communication
Communication has seen an interesting pattern between silencing and listening to the insane (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 1155). During the period of torture for madness, chains and dungeons were employed to silence the madman. During this time and for centuries afterward, the mad were often a spectacle put on show as they clanked in their chains and babbled incessantly (Herrick, p. 251). The paradox here is that the public and the workers were essentially encouraging the insane to make more noise and to talk more while effectively silencing (ignoring) any actual words that came out of their mouths. Those with mental illness were not listened to but rather made as a show in the circus (Herrick, p. 249). Eventually when the treatment of the insane removed the shackles, they were less of a spectacle but more of a sense of observation that encouraged guilt and shame for the “transgression” of being insane (Foucault, 1988, p. 261).

Foucault connects communication and this sense of transgression to the birth of psychoanalysis:

“Language was engaged in things rather than really suppressed. Confinement, prisons, dungeons, even tortures, engaged in a mute dialogue between reason and unreason --- the dialogue of struggle. This dialogue itself was now disengaged; silence was absolute; there was no longer any common language between madness and reason; the language of delirium can be answered only by an absence of language, for delirium is not a fragment of dialogue with reason, it is not language at all; it refers, in an ultimately silent awareness, only to transgression. And it is only at this point that a common language becomes possible again, insofar as it will be one of acknowledged guilt. “Finally, after long hesitations, they saw him come of his own accord to join the society of the other patients…” The absence of language, as a fundamental structure of the asylum, has its correlative in the exposure of confession. When Freud, in psychoanalysis, cautiously reinstitutes exchange, or rather begins once again to listen to this language, henceforth eroded into monologue, should we be astonished that the formulations he hears are always those of transgression? And this inveterate silence, transgression has taken over at the very sources of speech” (1988, p. 262).

There is a process by which language and communication vacillate and eventually come to a dialogue interwoven with religious guilt, another rhetoric (or discourse, as Foucault would put it) we have studied this semester.

Observation
Observation was being used less as a form of spectacle and more as a form of assessment. But it was not assessment as we know it today. It was more as a tactic of external eyes and internal acknowledgment (Herrick, pp. 249-50). By this, the workers at asylums were the observers who encouraged the insane to take a look at themselves. Foucault calls this a recognition by the mirror. By being grouped with other madmen, the insane got a sense of their own character, and sometimes, this encouraged them to want to be more normal (meaning more like the outside world of accepted behavior and less like the insane around them). The idea was if you show the madman others who act like him, he judges for himself that such behavior is madness and chooses to change his language and his actions. Foucault states, “The madman recognizes himself as in a mirror in this madness whose absurd pretensions he has denounced...He is now pitilessly observed by himself. And in the silence of those who represent reason, and who have done nothing but hold up the perilous mirror, he recognizes himself as objectively mad” (1988, p. 264).

So the 18th century was mainly the madman being observed by others; as the 19th century began, institutions were accepting such systems where madmen were observing each other. Foucault explains that madness became a spectacle of itself where mirrors of other madmen created an awareness (linked to shame) that promoted acknowledgment and self-restraint (1988, pp. 264-265). Just imagine if we had spent this entire semester studying the history of the rhetoric of the insane. And wha-laa, read some Foucault. There you have it.

Judgment
This sense of reflection and the mirror incited self-assessment and judgment, as in Foucault’s view many discourses do. Foucault explains how such continual self-observation is rooted in fear and justice leading to self-condemnation as a part of the treatment of insanity (1988, p. 265). The asylum had its own judicial system that “judged immediately, and without appeal” (Foucault, 1988, p. 266). If we follow the progression from dungeons to poor houses to hospitals to asylums, we can see the development of punishment --- both internal and external --- as a therapeutic tool. But this is another topic for another post (just something I am interested in). Basically, the older forms of confinement already had a disconnect from the judicial system of the society. Eventually asylums also created their own judicial languages for punishing untoward behavior. Just one example: A researcher named Pinel took 18th century therapeutic methods and used them as forms of punishment (Foucault, 1988, p. 266). One example that Foucault offers is that of the cold shower as a means of “medicine” for the nervous system. “The happy consequences of the cold shower, the psychological effect of the unpleasant surprise which interrupted the course of ideas and change the nature of sentiments” was used as a means to keep the insane in line both verbally and otherwise physically (1988, pp. 266-267).

Hence, such systems were employed to ensure that the insane man felt the observation and judgment of those around him (Herrick, p. 251). The link between transgression of accepted behavioral norms and the punishment that the person came to accept as just was glaringly evident (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 1157). One can see how it is difficult to decide whether to call this person in the asylum a patient or an inmate. Madness was subject to the rules of the asylum system and became “a kind of endless trial” where the individual had committed a social crime and had come to a “perpetual recommencement in the internalized form of [silent] remorse” (Foucault, 1988, p. 269; Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 1155; Herrick, p. 250).

While the asylum had not yet reached the status of a medical space where patients were watched for diagnosing and treating, it had developed into “a judicial space where one [was] accused, judged, and condemned, and from which one [was] never released except by the version of this trial in psychological depth --- that is, by remorse” (Foucault, 1988, p. 269). The insane were no longer viewed by society as guilty of a criminal activity, yet they were still punished and disciplined for their abnormal language, mutterings, and behavior. In this context, there is so much to investigate in terms of Foucault’s call for (1) will to truth, (2) discourse, and (3) signifier power (Bizzell & Herzberg, pp. 1157 & 1164).

---

Additional reference:

Foucault, Michel. (1988). Madness and civilization: A history of insanity in the age of reason. Trans. Richard Howard. New York: Vintage-Random House.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Richards and the Situation

In 20th century rhetoric, the idea that words are symbols that require interpretation is stressed by IA Richards. Richards explains that such interpretation of words must be in context so that the meaning is clear (or at least clearer). Such context relates to Burke’s Dramatism pentad: act, scene, agent, agency, and purpose. Most specifically, Richards and Burke converge with the idea of scene. Richards is particularly concerned with the way symbols, signs, actions, thoughts, and items relate to each other. This relationship-based understanding of the world creates a “behavioristic theory of interpretation-in-context” with an inherent rhetorical meaning (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 965).

In one experiment, Richards situates contexts solely within the verbal structure of language. By doing this, Richards was able to (or so he claimed) focus on the reader’s experience outside of the history and/or other biases that come with knowing authors, eras, and political situations. Yet, Richards discovers even more so the interdependency of meaning and context. He defines context as a way to name and situate rhetoric in the events that occur together (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 978).

One concept I found particularly meaningful was Richard’s concept of the metaphor. He has a great appreciation for the metaphor because it conveys information by connecting it to things a person already understands. Furthermore, Richards sees the metaphor as limited (which is good because it keeps the metaphor in check). The two limiting factors, namely the “tenor” and the “vehicle”, work in tension to limit the interpretive range of understanding as applied by a particular metaphor. “We understand the one by the other, taking only certain characteristics of the vehicle (the beauty of the Rose, not the thorns) because of the nature of the tenor (my love)” (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 966). In other words, it is the words and phrases that surround a concept or a piece of rhetoric that enable us to understand the meaning. Because we make connotations within a particular situation we use context to understand the metaphor.

Because we are operating between both social (outer) and psychological (inner) histories, we apply what we know when we decode symbolism (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 968). We are decoding and encoding when we listen and speak. Even in one conversation, there can be multiple accurate meanings or a multiplicity of meaning (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 980). Since, according to Richards, words do not have any inherent goodness or badness, it is through the contextual understanding (both the history and the surrounding words) that we can illustrate points to one another (Bizzell & Herzberg, pp. 983-84, 986).

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Approaching the Rhetoric of Science

Rhetoric is Widespread and Contextual

We have entered into the age in our reading when the rhetoric of science begins to emerge (Herrick, 2005, p. 209). Herrick talks quite well about how this came to be. As I read through the timeline, complete with specified authors, I was terribly opposed to the some of the assumptions underlying Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca’s universal audience. Herrick states that these author “seek an imagined audience of reasonable people available at all times, and not subject to the limitations and biases of any particular audience” (Herrick, 2005, p. 202). As Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca explain the self audience, they want rhetors to come up with arguments that are “timeless, thus independent of local concerns” (Herrick, 2005, p. 203). It’s a lovely notion, really, but it is also quite useless because we are never without context. To me, Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca try valiantly to avoid what they see as unsolidified truths that are connect to God or revealed in some other manner; however, they only return to the notion of absolute truth. I wanted to ask them, “Why not consider context?” Classmates, you may recall an earlier post where I discussed Nazi Germany. We have situations in life where we must consider context before, during, and after we think, speak, and persuade. I do not believe we are ever free from the situation. Absolutist and atomistic thinking might only work for hermits.

As could logically follow, I did agree with Billig, especially in his notion against absolutism. He believed, as Herrick said, that “the rules of rhetoric must always be provisional, never absolute” (Herrick, 2005, p. 212). As Herrick continued with the development (and critiques) of the rhetoric of science, I thought to ways in which my husband and I both see rhetoric integral with science: grants. There are a number of articles that address the rhetoric of science in grant writing. I am going to draw on one below that really pulls the “approach” piece out when student scientists are seeking money to fund their projects.

Rhetoric of Science: Grants

Students express concern regarding seeking grants because they are unsure on the approach for the proposal. What is appropriate? What is overconfident? What is too timid? Students can confidently learn to intrigue potential paying readers into their area of intellectual subject by suggesting ways that the student is the scholar is best suited for a particular research issue, thereby most suited for grants to pursue this project (Gillis, 2009, p. 4).

Administration and faculty can teach students that preparing the proposal may require speaking to audiences across multiple fields. Hence, jargon is inappropriate and can hinder application acceptance. Speaking to a varied audience does not require “dumbing down” the proposal content. Instead researchers can explain using a tactic that presents “the issues at a level of generality sufficient to making them clear to the general scholarly reader” (Gillis, 2009, p. 2). “This is something of an exercise in translation and, as such, a classical element of proposal writing that transcends the technical nature characteristic of such proposed projects…..avoiding language that seems purpose­fully to obfuscate or exclude” (Gillis, 2009, p. 2). Going into forming proposal, researchers should have an attitude of being intriguing enough to spark interest and maintain and stretch intelligible thought and problem solving.

In this vein, students can advance their voice confidently. In developing a rhetorical strategy that is not too cocky and not too meek, students can employ “sureness of voice” for their intended audience that clarifies the research focus and develops expectations to be fulfilled (Gillis, 2009, p. 2).

If a student has had a grant proposal rejected in the past, faculty can serve that student well by revisiting the old proposal. By teaching students that it is “not sufficient to identify an important question that has not been asked before or that has been inadequately answered, or to propose a new perspective on an old problem: one must note why the question has been inadequately answered to date, or why a new perspective is needed” (Gillis, 2009, p. 5). In other words, researchers can alter their words and their rhetoric in hopes of persuading funding institutions.

One concern regarding grant writing is the ties that bind a researcher to a project. The strings are certainly attached in grant-receiving. The ethical researcher should utilize the funds appropriate. Still, apply for funding and doing a particular research project “need not wed the applicant to a particular intellectual frame­work or disciplinary outlook” (Gillis, 2009, p. 4). Researchers can pursue many courses of action. In fact, researchers with such a fearful attitude toward the results of grant receiving may be surprised to see the flexibility in using grant funds. One of the grant proposal’s purposes is for the researcher to demonstrate his or her grasp of the field and confidence in self. This way, grant application readers can also gain confidence that if a research project were to change direction, the researcher would still responsibly use the funds (Gillis, 2009, p. 4).

Concluding Remarks:

The last few paragraphs show how even the values of researching student scientists can be changing. For example, on the one hand, scientists will claim that they are completely nonbiased and nonchanging. But when a new topic or a better way to say something is presented, that same scientist is often willing to use that persuasively. And, that’s okay! Context, persuasion, and being able to express oneself is not only part of science, it’s part of life. I see the words “bias” and “change” are coming to be looked at differently (and not so negatively) in the scientific world.

References Beyond Class Textbooks:

Gillis, C. (2009). Writing proposals for ACLS fellowship competitions. Retrieved 3 November 2010 from http://www.acls.org/uploadedFiles/Publications/Programs/Writing_Fellowship_Proposals.pdf

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Bacon's Influence on the Enlightenment Authors

Bacon really opens a door...and then Enlightenment thought seems to explode. Bacon’s psychology theories greatly expanded the view that Aristotle had on divisions of the mind. Bacon organizes the mind into the areas of memory, imagination, reason, appetite, and will. Bacon first argues that the main faculties are reason, imagination, and memory. Yet, all five faculties work together by combining imagination and reason to influence the will, influenced by appetite and memory. The understanding of imagination and reason comes through rhetoric.

Continuing this move toward psychology, RenĂ© Descartes divides the processes of analysis and synthesis in the mind. Cartesian theory situates presentation as the end of discovery; in other words, at this point, ideas are understood enough to be able to pass them on in persuasion or in teaching. Psychology continues its birth here as a component of persuasion that is coupled with correct thinking. (Despite many wanting to shake the moral and religious codes, we see that, in this time period, we are still influenced by the notion that the moral man will speak and think “correctly”.)

John Locke reduces the mental faculties into two divisions: understanding and will. As he writes about the difficulty and ambiguity of words, Locke explains the uncertainty of language, especially non-character connections to ideas. Locke explains that terms stand for ideas but that people have different understandings of the same terms, especially in complex concepts such as the economy or religion. In many ways, Locke bemoans rhetoric as he tries to follow the empiricism so heavily emerging in that day. Still, Locke cannot help but discuss words as he searches for truth through experiment in a physical world and as he desires to establish an epistemological framework for a psychological experience.

Despite the organization and understanding of psychology seemingly taking off, Bizzell and Herzberg say that these connections are merely the beginning or the foundation for a psychological theory of rhetoric. And so I'm looking forward to upcoming readings, especially Foucault's because I've read Discipline and Punish, which did look at rhetoric in a roundabout way but through the very specific confines of the prison, the hospital, and the mental institution. But as I said in my replies to posts this week and as we discussed in class, we are seeing that as media spreads, the realization of people builds inclusion. Still, from “the people” in Roman times to Enlightenment times to today, I think we have a ways to go.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Keeping it interesting, keeping it current

Dear Classmates,

What exactly is an ugly and offensive fault? What examples can you think of that could be classified as ugly? As offensive? Now, what types of actions or words or thoughts might you describe as both ugly and offensive? For Erasmus, it's the old “repetition of the word or phrase” (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 505)! While I found this section absolutely comical, I also nodded my way through it. When Erasmus asked, “Who has got years patient enough to put up even for a short time with a speech totally monotonous?”, I answered, “Not me!” (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 505). In fact, my husband calls the point of monotony as “checking out”. He says that he can see in my eyes and by my body language when I “check out”. And it’s true! Tell me something once. If you want to further explain your point of view with varied examples, make sure that they are both relative and interesting. Otherwise, I get the point.

Most people are willing to listen at least once. But repetition either has to have good merit or be part of a song with a really good beat. Erasmus expresses that “the mind is always looking around for some fresh object of interest” (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 506). And this is how good debates become good. Erasmus encourages writers and speakers to pull from a toolbox with a variety of styles and subjects. In this way, we avoid “chatter[ing] on without restraint” or saying too little (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 505). In some instances, silence would have been better than continued discussion of the same subject in the same way. Therefore, we have to vary either the subject or the style.

Here we can return to the same argument we have seen from the Greeks. Being well educated aids speechmaking and writing because it increases the number of tools in the rhetorician’s toolbox. Still, rhetoric is a funny subject, as we have seen in the trouble humans have in both classifying as well as in assigning it relative value. It’s something to be studied, in other words, to improve the style that Erasmus discusses. But it is also something that everyone uses. Uses, I add, but not always well. And so we get exposure to those ugly and offensive experiences of repetition.

Let me diverge. Remember how the character Socrates said that “the method of the art of healing is much the same as that of rhetoric” (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 137) in Plato’s Phaedrus? Here, we have the physician who has studied a subject and promotes/practices healing. And back then, the connection between studying rhetoric and performing public speeches was much more direct because individuals made a living by being rhetoricians and practicing speechmaking. Today, that is less outwardly so. We don’t usually defend ourselves in the courtroom today. Nor do we go to the public square and shout out a speech. But doctors are still studying medicine and practicing healing. So we can see how one profession has stayed more consistent while the other has changed more with the context.

Still, we may defend our decision at work or we may make a speech at town hall. Maybe we train others for a living. Maybe we motivate teams at work. And our physician may also perform the same rhetorical practices. So where is the value in rhetoric today?

Enter communicators. We have this field of communication today that also goes through the ups and downs of organization and value. I can’t tell you how many people questioned my decision of choosing Business Communication as a major in my undergrad years. And in my answer to them, I confessed that I really didn’t know. I just liked to write. And I didn’t like to write fiction. Eventually, I entered the world of technical writing and absolutely loved writing hardware and software manuals, which, sigh, many people don’t find value in either. Most manuals go unread unless there is a problem or unless it pertains very specifically to that person’s career. In becoming a technical writer, I learned an art. Here is a skill that not everyone performs. As Phaedrus said, to create the value, one must work for and possess “knowledge of the art” (Bizzell & Herzberg, p. 136).

Books like the one we read from Erasmus offer us such knowledge. From the outside, they seem nearly ridiculous. But you have to really place yourself in what was important at that time. In the future, my tech writing skills will become obsolete. Something will replace the manual as we know it today. I’ve seen little videos that show complex steps much better than trying to write it out. All those skills and memorized conditions from the style guide will likely seem silly. Hence, in a changing field, we have to create value, and as Erasmus demonstrated, that comes down to fine details to communicate very precisely.

Just like in technical writing, you keep it straight and never commit the ugly and offensive sin of repetition, I better close here before I say the same over again. ;)

Emily

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Discrediting

Again, we see a rhetorician who doesn’t really want to be a rhetorician vilifying someone before to advance the “true” purposes or virtues of rhetoric. This time it’s Ramus. But honestly, Plato pulled a similar move. Ramus sets forth his purpose by saying, “We shall distinguish the art of rhetoric from other arts, and make it a single one of the liberal arts, not a confused mixture of all arts; we shall separate its true properties, remove weak and useless subtleties, and point out the things that are missing” (Bissell & Herzberg, p. 563). I'm just wondering when those who claim to know what rhetoric is are going to be presenting it in a way that acknowledges that the subject of rhetoric, or any subject for that matter, is what we define it to be. And this is not simply an individualistic pursuit; it has to be agreed upon in a social manner for it to be recognized, at least by a certain group, as the definition of the field that defines what is included and excluded. In the statement above from Ramus, he seems to imply universal laws surrounding what rhetoric “really” is. The claim of truth pervades many subjects. In fact it almost seems that to advance some concept, developers and authors have to claim such clarity (as opposed to simply pointing out a falsehood or discrepancy). Yet reading back on such claims of truth is almost laughable. In Bissell and Herzberg’s Renaissance Rhetoric Introduction, Descartes is quoted saying, “One can talk of persuasion whenever there is ground for further doubt. One can talk of science however only when there is an unshakable ground” (Bissell & Herzberg, p. 477). I'm not saying that this is intentional deceit. But, oh, how much we have learned about the importance of context and social constructivism.

Here's a little story to get our minds thinking about the importance of social acceptance of terms, language, and communication. Many times when we think of science, we think of the quantitative aspect (i.e. number of milligrams of X in the blood). But it is the communication of both quantitative and qualitative aspects of science that build a social understanding in smaller circles and in larger communities. I hope this story spurs some brainstorming about what virtues are most important to various people, how terms gain their solidity and social meaning, and why absolutes are easy to conjecture but difficult to defend.

Story of miscommunication and bad blood

There was a patient who'd been seeing her primary care physician for a few years now. I'll give her the name Rosie. She was going into the office to get some work done. All seem to be okay except for her long-standing heart disease and hypertension.

One day Rosie was experiencing shortness of breath so acutely that it alarmed her enough to go straight to the emergency room. Upon admittance to the hospital, the team of doctors determined that Rosie was in cardiac distress. As the doctors worked up a plan for Rosie, someone from medical team to blood cultures in an attempt to rule out endocardititis and other heart value issues. Upon analysis of the cultures, a doctor noted a common culture growth that grows on skin. A resident, practicing full disclosure, said to Rosie, “Oh, one of your blood cultures grew out this bacteria; but don't worry, it was contaminated.”

After Rosie's experience in the emergency room and subsequently a room in the hospital, she went to see her primary care physician. Arriving agitated, Rosie burst into a demand as soon as the physician entered the room. Rosie exclaimed that she wanted to know precisely what her medical records had regarding her blood. Because of Rosie's irritation, the physician was confused. This started a long series of questions and answers in an attempt to understand the demand. But Rosie wasn't interested in answering any questions for the position. She simply wanted the blood related information to be read to her. The primary care doctor still attempted to initiate further understanding of Rosie's big concern. After many conversations, and they traced the concern back to the resident’s comment.

Rosie didn't know the precise wording that came from the resident, but from the talking and tracing, the physician was able to determine that what Rosie thought had been conveyed to her was that she had syphilis. Rosie didn't actually know the term syphilis; instead, she used the common jargon of the South: “bad blood”. In Mississippi, where Rosie was originally from, bad blood was synonymous with tainted blood or with contaminated blood. When the resident use the term contaminated, it triggered an immediate connotation for Rosie that meant she was infected with syphilis. While not thought about logically in this manner, her thinking ultimately went like this: contaminated blood means that my blood is bad because it has been tainted, and tainted blood is bad blood which is that disease with rashes and open sores [syphilis] that you get from being loose [promiscuous].

The euphemism “bad blood” was how Rosie continued to refer to what she thought was on her medical record. Rosie told the doctor, “I love my husband. I was a faithful wife. Now I'm widow, but I am still a churchgoin’ woman and I fear God. How do you think this record shows on me?” She insisted that the information had to be removed from her record. The physician tried to explain to Rosie the meaning of the word contaminated in this context, and that it had actually been determined that the person taking the blood had contaminated it. And so, the doctor continued, the contamination really had nothing to do with Rosie at all. But this made matters worse. Rosie became convinced that the person taking the blood had actually inserted a contaminated needle into her, ruining Rosie's blood.

Upon reflecting about this incident, the doctor noted it as “the biggest communication divide she had yet experienced”. The doctor felt that despite her [the doctor’s] research and subsequent connection between the euphemism and Rosie's understanding, the doctor and the patient were not speaking the same language. They did not have the same social understanding and acceptance with the term contaminated. The more the doctor tried to convince Rosie by means of the credibility of the hospital and the team of doctors, the credibility of the machines determining what is in the blood, the logical explanation and research that went into tracing the blood contamination, and Rosie's own fears and emotions involved with this trigger word, the more unmovable Rosie seemed to become.

This story is also a springboard for discussing doctor-patient rhetoric and communication in the scientific medical field.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

In Jest: Medieval Letters v. Current Text Messages

On the Art of Text Messaging (or Principles of the Text Message) Through the Eyes of Generation Y

It seems appropriate that a rhetorician (ahem, moi) ought to examine current communicative writings by contrasting them to the medieval rhetoric of the letter or epistle. The definition letter, as put forth in The Principles of Letter Writing, seems fairly appropriate for the definition of text message: “a suitable arrangement of words set forth to express the intended meaning of its sender” (Bizzell and Herzberg, p. 432). However, we can contrast and examine how the five parts of the letter have changed when looking at them through the lens of the text messaging genre. These five parts include the salutation, the securing of goodwill, the narration, the petition, and the conclusion. While we read about these components this week, let's examine each one in light of the use of text messaging, a common, nearly immediate form of sending digital messages primarily through the use of cell phones.

The salutation is rarely used when communicating through text messages. Namely because the salutation is already implied by the sending of a message. Though, when time permits, a quick “hi” is cordial. Still, any sort of long or drawn-out salutation is completely inappropriate for the text message because it may be viewed as a waste of the reader’s time. While the salutation of the letter in the medieval period characterizes a person based on social rank and personal manner, such superlative depictions, even in today's verbiage, such as “most phenomenal and competent of supervisors”, “my beautiful and dutiful child”, or “dearest of friends who incite feelings of comfort, sublime happiness, and utmost trust”, would be called brown nosing, not to mention a waste of the space allotted for the text message. (This case is also applicable to the tweet.) While the salutation of the medieval period was used to express feeling and opening greetings, communicators of today recognize that the quick, content-focused information sent through the text message cannot be read into too deeply regarding tone. If it was, many a text message would be viewed as negative and curt by virtue of its abruptness. After all, text messages are sent at nearly any time of the day and often out of the blue with a succinct, to the point note or inquiry.

In fact, considering the popularity of negativity (while not in my own nature but certainly heightened compared to the way rhetoricians of days gone by looking to expand upon the receiver's virtues loquaciously) and the encouragement speak one's mind, it seems to me to be a good thing that we do not characterize the recipients of our text messages. Why, with divorce rates as high as they are, a text message to a spouse might characterize him or her as “you lousy sack of suds” or “most nagging of all”. Children, who seem to perceive endless rights and possess a self-centered perspective, may feel justified, right or not, to start texts to parents with “ruler so unfair” or “[parent’s first name], why are you – so insistent and intruding as you are – texting my phone? This is my domain.” Consider the use of text messaging in the workplace. Physicians, all of whom are very busy, use text messaging to locate and/or question other physicians within the hospital. Imagine the havoc it would wreak if one professional who didn’t have a very high opinion of another or who was being caused to wait began a text message with “Name, you schmuckiest of schmucks”. It is, quite a blessing, I do believe, that the characterization in the salutation has been removed.

Humor me for a moment and reflect upon what would happen if we applied the same notions of superiority and inferiority discussed in The Principles of Letter Writing (see Bizzell and Herzberg, p. 433). Society is much changed, and any implications that someone is “below you” are very much out of place in a world that values equality. This is not to say that respect should not be employed; rather, it highlights our current tendencies to view each other as equals.

While sometimes a very quick salutation is used by those of the “older generation” (which is completely forgivable as they are not “with it”, and they still believe that some sort of greeting is necessary) or used by a bored youngin’ who has the time to insert such a greeting, is most appropriate to simply recognize that the salutation is implied in the art of text messaging.

We will only briefly cover the next part of the letter – the securing of goodwill – as it applies to text message. Why? Because here again this component of the letter is completely unnecessary in the text message. In fact the salutation and the securing of goodwill go hand-in-hand in the letter (Bizzell and Herzberg, p. 437). But in the world of text messaging, such characterization and flowery explanation used to bolster the sender's ethos seems completely out of place as such developments of ethos ought to be done in other contexts.

In the expectation of our times, in fact, this blog post is getting much too long, and I fear that I might lose my reader’s attention. And so, I will reiterate the recommendation of the medieval monk Alberic when he said that brevity was a chief virtue (Bizzell and Herzberg, p. 430). Indeed, brevity is a chief virtue in text messaging. So, what the heck, nix the narration and the conclusion when writing your texts. Get right to the question, or as explained in The Principles of Letter Writing, the petition.

Ask your question and be on with it.


Disclaimer: This blog post may not be applicable to those who are twitterpated with love, doting and flowery Southern women in the habit of using pet names like “darling”, or for message senders who just wrecked the car and need to include a bit of goodwill-securement and narration.