008 – WANTED: Mixed Martial Arts for Argument Ninjas


If we think of rational persuasion as a martial art, what kind of martial art should it be? In this episode I argue that a mixed martial arts approach is the only one that makes sense.

But there’s a problem. Philosophical principles play an obvious and important role in traditional martial arts practices. They don’t seem to play an important role in mixed martial arts (or if they do, it’s not obvious.) An MMA program for Argument Ninjas needs a philosophy grounded in core critical thinking principles.

In This Episode:

  • The clash of martial arts styles and the emergence of mixed martial arts
  • Taekwondo as an example of a traditional martial art
  • Rules of Taekwondo sparring
  • Why would anyone choose to train in a single martial art style?
  • Lessons learned from sparring and competition
  • Examples of Taekwondo philosophy
  • What would a philosophy of mixed martial arts (MMA) look like?
  • Bruce Lee’s influence on MMA
  • Bruce Lee’s philosophy of martial arts
  • Persuasion Ninja vs Argument Ninja

Quotes:

“When you train in a martial art you will face opponents who are more skilled than you in every way, and you will lose to them, over and over and over. The only way to continue, and improve, is to get over yourself. Let go of your ego, let go of your fear of failure, and learn to see things as they really are. Learn how to be okay with failure and to learn from failure. Because when you interpret failure in this way, it’s not really failure anymore. It’s just learning.”

“There’s nothing preventing a martial art from having both a strong emphasis on effectiveness as a combat art, and a guiding philosophy that transcends the goals of combat.”

“If your focus isn’t solely on persuasion, but also on persuasion for good reasons — actually having good reasons for the beliefs you have, and the decisions you make — then this is similar to an MMA program where the ultimate goal isn’t just to become a better fighter. You’re also committed to something else, something that transcends combat, and even the physicality of training. Something that aims at truth and wisdom.”


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This is the Argument Ninja podcast, episode 8!

Hi everyone this is Kevin deLaplante and you’re listening to the Argument Ninja podcast. I’m a philosopher and critical thinking educator, and on this show I talk about argumentation and what it means to become an independent critical thinker, filtered through our growing knowledge of the psychology of belief and persuasion.

I’m interested in developing a program of instruction in critical thinking that is grounded in the study of rational persuasion. This is the main point of this podcast, to provide a forum for me to work out the elements of such a program.

Whenever I try to explain what I mean by a theory of rational persuasion, I find myself falling back on analogies with traditional martial arts practices.

In these martial arts disciplines there’s often a dual emphasis: there’s an emphasis on combat techniques and other physical aspects of the martial art, and there’s an emphasis on ethical or philosophical principles that serve as governing ideals for the practice. I’m interested in how these two dimensions of martial arts practice interact with each other.

For me this is helpful to explore, because I see parallels in the relationship between methods of persuasion, on the one hand, and principles of rational argumentation on the other. I’m interested in how persuasion and argumentation interact in the practice of rational argumentation, and I’m looking to the philosophy of the martial arts as a resource for insights and ideas that I can apply to this other case.

On this episode I want to talk about the differences between traditional martial arts disciplines, which have a particular style and focus, and what we now call “mixed martial arts”, which combines techniques from a variety of martial arts styles.

I like the idea of a mixed martial arts approach to rational persuasion. I think this is how a program of instruction ultimately has to be structured.

But there’s a problem that faces any attempt to model a theory of rational persuasion on mixed martial arts. Philosophical principles play an obvious and important role in traditional martial arts practices. They don’t seem to play an important role in mixed martial arts; or if they do, it’s not obvious. The program that I’m developing needs a philosophical dimension

So in this episode I’m going to explore this question, and see if I can’t resolve this problem in a satisfying way, for myself if not for everyone.

The episode is longer than usual so I hope you’ll bear with me. Get yourself a drink, clear some time in your schedule, and let me share some time with you.

I’m going to start out with a little history on the comparison of different martial arts styles, the emergence of mixed martial arts in the 20th century, and raise the question of why anyone trains in a traditional martial art anymore.

I use taekwondo as a case study to explore this question. I talk about what people can learn from practicing a martial art, even if it’s a restrictive and stylized martial art like taekwondo.

We get into the philosophy of taekwondo, and then I raise the question of what a philosophy of mixed martial arts would look like.

I talk a bit about Bruce Lee and his influence on mixed martial arts, and Bruce’s Lee’s philosophy of martial arts.

And then I bring the discussion back to persuasion and argumentation. I define what I call a “persuasion ninja”, and how I distinguish that from an “argument ninja”.

And finally I describe an MMA approach to learning the art of rational persuasion — MMA for the Argument Ninja — and how this approach solves the problem that I just raised.

Okay, let’s begin.

You know there are traditional martial arts styles like shotokan karate, taekwando, judo, wing chun kung fu, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and so on, that each have their particular style and training methods.

One of the oldest pastimes of martial arts enthusiasts is to argue over which style is better or more effective against which other style. If you can take a person to the ground, a style that emphasizes grappling is going to have a huge advantage over one that doesn’t. If you’re forced to stay on your feet and slug it out, a trained boxer has some real advantages over some other styles.

In the history of martial arts competition, the idea of pitting one style against another isn’t anything new. You see French savate fighters squaring off against English bare knuckle fighters in the late 19th century. You’d see wrestling against boxing, boxing against karate, and so on.

In these match-ups there was a lot invested in being a representative of your style, so if the boxer started throwing kicks, that wasn’t something that was encouraged in these matches.

But over time this philosophy started to shift, and the idea of combining elements of different styles became more acceptable.

Bruce Lee was one of a number of people who were instrumental in introducing this idea into the West. He famously said that “the best fighter is not a Boxer, Karate or Judo man. The best fighter is someone who can adapt to any style, to be formless, to adopt an individual’s own style and not follow the system of styles”.

In this respect, Bruce Lee anticipated what has now become the standard training regimen for mixed martial artists. Fighters tend to start out in one field, like boxing or judo or jiu-jitsu, and they may end up favoring that style of fighting, but they all train to be able to strike from a standing position, they all train to do takedowns and throws from a clinching position, and they all train in submission holds in a ground position.

It makes you wonder why anyone still trains in a single school or style. I remember having this conversation with a student of mine in one of my office hours, back in the day when I had office hours. He was an MMA fan and thought it was just obvious that training in taekwondo or judo all by itself was a mistake, that the only training that made any sense was training that made you an effective fighter in a standing position, in the clinch and on the ground, in realistic fighting situations.

In his view, spending all that time in taekwondo learning a specific set of forms and how to do absurd spinning kicks was not only time wasted; it left you systematically weak and vulnerable in other areas.

And so I asked him, if it’s so obviously wrong-headed to train this way — why do you think people do it? Why do people train for years to get their second and third and fourth degree black belt in specific style like taekwondo?

And he paused, and he said, “I guess they just enjoy the challenge of mastering the techniques. Their goal isn’t to be good at fighting, their goal is to be good at taekwondo”.

And I replied that I think there’s some truth to that. But it would be odd to say that they don’t care about getting better at fighting, when, as it is in some schools, a certain portion of every training session is dedicated to sparring, and they often compete in sparring tournaments. It’s clear that fighting is an integral part of what they do.

Here’s how I would describe this situation now, and see if you can anticipate how I’m going to frame the analogy with argumentation and persuasion and critical thinking.

When you train in a martial art, you’re entering a ritualized space where certain rules are imposed, and in choosing to train in that martial art, you agree to abide by those rules.

The training you do is simultaneously constrained by those rules, and an expression of respect for those rules, because the rules are intended to help you achieve certain higher goals. These goals are the primary purpose for studying the martial art. And this primary purpose is almost never about winning fights.

So, when you’re sparring in taekwondo, for example, you wear a full set of protective sparring gear, and the rules are very restrictive.

You can punch, with a clenched fist, and you can kick, with any part of your foot below the ankle. That’s it. No other techniques are allowed except punches and kicks.

You can kick to two places. Your opponent’s chest protector or their head. You can punch the chest protector but you can’t punch the face or the head.

You can’t kick or punch your opponent’s spine or below their chest protector.  You can’t grab, hold or push your opponent. You can’t attack below the waist. You can’t strike with your elbows or knees.

You get one point for a basic hit to the chest protector. You get two points for a kick to the chest protector if the kick involves a spinning technique. And you get three points for a kick to your opponent’s head.

Now, it’s easy to see why someone who is really interested in fighting might dismiss this kind of combat as so restrictive and ritualized that it has almost nothing to do with a realistic self-defense or street fighting situation.

There’s obviously some truth to this. But it’s also clear that this kind of practice does develop some important combat-related skills.

You’re facing a real opponent after all, you’re not shadow-boxing. You’re trying to physically hit someone while avoiding being hit by them, and vice versa. To do this well you have to learn how to assess an opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, how to read their strategy, how to conceal your own strategy, how to control the distance between you and your opponent, how to time your attacks, how to throw combinations, how to respond in the moment to changes in the combat situation.

You also learn how to discipline your emotions, how to conserve energy, how to implement a long term strategy.

These skills apply to any martial sport, from boxing to fencing to MMA sparring. And learning these skills can be exciting and fun.

But we can push this a little further. For those who train in a martial sport for any length of time, you know that there are deeper psychological lessons that can be learned, about yourself, your identity, through sparring and competition.

Let’s admit that we spend much of our lives inhabiting different personas and playing different roles, and it’s easy to get caught up in the fictions we tell ourselves and the games we have to play. We’re afraid to acknowledge our fears and our insecurities. Many of us live our lives behind walls of inauthentic bullshit that we present to the world, and that we come to believe ourselves. We walk around with egos that are simultaneously inflated and fragile.

But in the ring, on the mat, when you’re squaring off against an opponent, none of your bullshit matters. You can tell people outside the dojo what a skilled martial artist you are, but inside the ring, or on the mat, the truth will be revealed, one way or another.

I call sparring a bullshit eraser, and it can be very liberating. It has the power to destroy an ego, but it also has the power to free us from fear and build a stronger, healthier sense of who we are and what we’re capable of.

When you train in a martial art you will face opponents who are more skilled than you in every way, and you will lose to them, over and over and over.

The only way to continue, and improve, is to get over yourself. Let go of your ego, let go of your fear of failure, and learn to see things as they really are. Learn how to be okay with failure and to learn from failure.

Because when you interpret failure in this way, it’s not really failure anymore. It’s just learning.

So, let me get back to what inspired this digression. We’re talking about why anyone would choose to devote themselves to training in a particular martial art, in a particular style, when it’s clear that you would become a more effective and well-rounded fighter by training in a variety of different styles.

And my answer so far is two-fold. The first part is to say that, even if the combat styles are highly ritualized, they still teach skills that are essential to combat. The second part is to show that, for many people, training in ritualized combat of any kind can be both fun and psychologically transformative. And that’s one of the reasons why people become dedicated to training even in highly ritualized and artificial combat styles. They enjoy the challenge, they enjoy mastering new skills, and they see it as a continuing opportunity for growth and self-improvement.

But there’s more to say than just this, and it’s the part that I really want to get to.

I’ve said it before in previous episodes, and it’s important for the analogy that I’m trying to develop here.

When we’re talking about a traditional martial art, there’s always an associated philosophy that is part of its origin story. Another reason why people devote themselves to a particular martial art is that they identify with the philosophy, and they view their training as part of, and a means toward, a broader philosophical practice.

And that philosophy rarely has anything to with fighting per se.

Since we’ve been talking about taekwondo, let’s use that as an example.

Taekwondo is a Korean martial art. Modern taekwondo was developed in the 1940s and 50s by martial artists who incorporated elements of karate and Chinese martial arts with indigenous Korean martial arts traditions. These were styles that were adopted by the South Korean military, and that led to a national effort to create a unified style of Korean martial art.

The modern history has as much to do with Cold War politics as anything else, but by the late 60s there was an International Taekwondo Federation that was responsible for institutionalizing a common style of taekwondo, and by the early 70s there was a World Taekwondo Federation, which institutionalized the sport aspects and promoted the sport around the world.

Today, in every taekwondo school, the first thing that is taught to students is a set of virtues that are known as the Five Tenets of Taekwondo. At the school where my daughter earned her Black Belt, they were listed as courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control and indomitable spirit. Part of class time, especially at the younger ages, was devoted to talking about how these virtues are expressed in the dojang and in one’s training, and in everyday life.

Look a little deeper you see that the various taekwondo federations and associations promote a variety of ethical principles. There are common themes among these principles, and historically they have roots in what is known as the code of the Hwarang, which was a class of warrior-scholars in middle-ages Korea. This was a protector class that had a close association with martial oriented Buddhist monks who lived in the area.

So in the resulting philosophy you see a combination of self-development virtues and social justice virtues, and this combination has carried through to the present day.

For example, let me read you a statement of the philosophy of taekwondo, as expressed by the founder of the International Taekwondo Association, Grandmaster James Benko. Pay attention to the different types of value commitments that are expressed in this statement.

“The philosophy of Tae Kwon Do is to build a more peaceful world. To accomplish this goal Tae Kwon Do begins with the foundation, the individual. The Art strives to develop the character, personality, and positive moral and ethical traits in each practitioner. It is upon this “foundation” of individuals possessing positive attitudes and characteristics that the “end goal” may be achieved.

Tae Kwon Do strives to develop the positive aspects of an individual’s personality: Respect, Courtesy, Goodness, Trustworthiness, Loyalty, Humility, Courage, Patience, Integrity, Perseverance, Self-control, an Indomitable Spirit and a sense of responsibility to help and respect all forms of life. This takes a great deal of hard training and many do not reach far enough to achieve perfection in all of these aspects. However, it is the physical, mental, and spiritual effort which the individual puts forth that develops the positive attributes and image of both the individual and how he or she perceives others.

In order to help build a more peaceful world, Tae Kwon Do starts with one person at a time. Gradually groups form, dojangs (schools) emerge, organizations develop, until Tae Kwon Do’s philosophy has influenced, in a positive way, enough persons, families, communities, and nations, to someday bring about, or at least help bring about, the unification of nations dedicated to helping each other.

The task is not easy. Just like the metamorphosis an individual goes through from white belt to black belt and eventually Master, so the transition of the unification of nations united by laws of peace, is a long and hard task. Tae Kwon Do strives for this unification. Race, creed, and nationality have nothing to do with Tae Kwon Do. They are all one in the same. Tae Kwon Do reaches toward the total development of the individual and the founding of a peaceful world.

The physical aspects of Tae Kwon Do are merely a by-product of Tae Kwon Do. It is the mental and spiritual development of a person which Tae Kwon Do nurtures and helps give birth to.”

So, here we see a martial arts philosophy where the “martial” part — the physical training and combat part — is treated not as an end in itself, but as a means to other ends, which are spiritual, ethical and sometimes even political in character.

Historically, one of the important influences on taekwondo was Buddhism, and some instructors emphasize this aspect as part of their philosophy of taekwondo. Here’s how one modern school master, Yeon Hee Park, expresses it:

“Tae Kwon Do is not just training in kicking, punching and self defense. It is far more even than training in mental and physical coordination. A major feature of the art is the development of a certain spirit which carries over into all aspects of life. If there exists a means through which one could secure a stable, peaceful life, it would have to be based upon a harmony between oneself and nature. Do in Korean means “art,” “path,” “way,” “way of life.” It is the way of the universe. The philosophy of Tae Kwon Do has as its roots in many of the tenets held by religious masters and devout laymen throughout history. These qualities can be traced back to the influence of Buddhism, and its aim of the “Mastery of Life.” The focus of Tae Kwon Do philosophy is to offer a means by which the student can rid him or herself of the ego, or what Zen-Buddhists call “discriminating mind,” in order to live in harmony with the universe.

At the core of this philosophy is the concept of ‘duality’ in nature. Duality refers to the interaction of opposing forces. Harmony is achieved when opposite forces are distributed equally, resulting in balance. When one force dominates however, discord is the result. For example, when an adversary uses positive (aggressive) energy, or in other words initiates an attack, the defender should use negative (yielding) energy to respond, by stepping aside to allow the energy of that attack to flow past harmlessly. In this manner, what was once hard (the assailant’s attack) becomes soft (non injurious), and what was soft (the defender’s passivity) becomes hard (an effective way to counter a potential dangerous assault), allowing balance to return.

Ultimately, the philosophy of Tae Kwon Do seeks to bring students to a level of consciousness known as “Present Time.” This occurs when one is completely in tune with oneself and nature to the degree that one’s actions and reactions are always perfectly coordinated with the forces in life, whether that be in the sparring ring, in a social setting or even when alone. Such a person cannot be made upset by anything they encounter in life. True masters of Tae Kwon Do are noted for their serene personalities, which stem from their living in Present Time.

Every person is capable of coordinating him or herself with the forces in life more perfectly. By centering oneself and balancing the dual forces through living in “Present Time,” students can begin to touch the true goal of all human life which is the aspiration to and application of perfection.”

Now, this statement of the ultimate goals of taekwondo is quite different from the one we just read. There’s no talk about a unification of peaceful nations here. The focus is more on moving individuals toward a Buddhist version of self-realization.

But what they have in common is they see the practice of taekwondo as a means to a greater goal, and when you move closer and closer to this goal, the martial aspects of the practice begin to fade, and even more, the physical aspects begin to fade. What comes more and more into focus are higher ideals — virtue, character, self-realization, enlightenment, justice, harmony, universal peace.

I’m not going to say that every traditional martial art tells the same story, but I will say that every traditional martial art has a story like this.

Now, let’s return to my office where I’m talking to that student, the fan of mixed martial arts. Let’s imagine that I’ve just told him this story about the reasons why people dedicate themselves to training in a particular martial art style, like taekwondo, in spite of it being a less effective system for learning self-defense and realistic fighting ability.

What do you think his response will be?

If he’s a real fan of MMA, he’ll probably say, “that makes a lot of sense, but it just proves my point. People who study taekwondo for years want to become great at taekwondo, whatever that means — but they don’t want to become great fighters. If they wanted to become great fighters they would learn other styles.”

I actually think this is a fair description. If one of your goals is to be able to confidently handle yourself in a wide variety of self-defense or personal combat situations, it would be foolish not to train in a variety of styles, there’s no question about that.

But here’s my question. What should I do if I care about both? What should I do if I want to become a more effective fighter and learn from lots of different styles, AND I want to use my training as a means to attaining higher spiritual and ethical goals?

There are two things to say about this.

First, you will have a hard time finding a martial arts school that has just this combination of features. There is no official philosophy of MMA, it doesn’t have that kind of history. There’s the competitive philosophy of successful fighters which can be inspiring in its own right, and there’s the ethics of respect and the rules of the training hall that most good schools demand. But you’ll never walk into an MMA studio and start talking about working toward universal peace or finding the right balance of opposites while living in “present time”.

But second, there’s nothing in principle preventing these two goals from coming together. Arguably this is what Bruce Lee was after. He studied Wing Chun kung fu when he was a teenager in Hong Kong, but in the US he studied judo grappling and taekwondo kicking and Western style boxing and even fencing, and tried to synthesize them in his own fighting style. The practical, physical side of combat was very important to him.

But at the same time he was driven to look for deeper insights and a higher meaning to his practice. Lee’s writings can be a challenge to interpret because ultimately he was an atheist of sorts, and he didn’t identify with any organized religion or spiritual practice. But he was drawn to this philosophy of “no style”, to resist the pull to codify your practice into a specific style, and by extension, to resist the pull to identify with creeds and doctrines and philosophies of any kind, any system that does your thinking for you, that stifles your unique creative ability and prevents you from acting with genuine freedom.

That’s quite different from the philosophy of taekwondo, or many other traditional martial arts. But it’s still a philosophy that transcends the goal of fighting — in his case, it’s a way of being in the world.

So, to reiterate my point, there’s nothing preventing a martial art from having both a strong emphasis on effectiveness as a combat art, and a guiding philosophy that transcends the goals of combat.

This is something that I believe more people are looking for today. There are lots of people who are fans of MMA training, but not fans of the bloodsport aspects of MMA competition, and they would like to see more options like this.

Now, I said that I would tie this all back into argumentation and persuasion, so let’s do that now.

When you study logic and argumentation, you’re learning how to identify genuine strengths and weaknesses in arguments.

When you study rhetoric and debate strategy, you’re learning how to exploit broader psychological, social and strategic factors to maximize the chances that your message will be successful.

We can think of verbal debate as kind of martial art, a type of combat that is played out with words and other forms of communication, rather than physical contact.

The study of persuasion methods and rhetorical strategies is an important part of training in this martial art. It can serve as a foundation for logical self-defense, a way of defending ourselves against the many forces that are conspiring to influence our perceptions and our beliefs and our values. And it can ground an effective offensive strategy, when you’re setting out to persuade an audience to accept a particular point of view.

So what’s the analogy with different martial arts styles?

Well, we all have a default persuasion or communication style. It’s the style that we’re naturally disposed toward, in a particular situation, without the benefit of explicit training or instruction. How do I relate to people, communicate with people, at work, at home, in public, online?

Our default communication styles can change from situation to situation, and they can evolve over time, but we all have these default modes. Sometimes they’re effective, but often they’re not.

They’re like our default responses to threats of conflict or aggression, without the benefit of martial arts or self-defense training. Sometimes we respond well, but often we don’t.

Now, we can imagine a structured, intentional program of instruction in persuasion, in communication, in argumentation. Not unlike a structured, intentional program of instruction in a martial art.

But any such program is going to emphasize certain techniques and methods and ignore others. It’s inevitable, because (a) the space of possible techniques and methods is huge, and (b) anyone who is offering such a program is going to have made these selections for you, based on their background and experience, their theoretical understanding of how good persuasion works, and the type of context where these persuasion skills are going to be applied.

And this is what you see when you look at what persuasion coaches are offering, or what is taught in communications programs, or what a marketing firm is selling to business clients, or how formal training in stage magic is structured, or what a university class in logic and argumentation is teaching, or what training in the art of speech writing looks like. It’s a set of skills and concepts that are tailored for a specific range of applications.

Taken altogether, these various training programs are a motley collection that range widely in their style of teaching, in the scope of what they teach, and in the goals that they serve.

There’s an analogy with martial arts instruction. When instruction is really informal, and one-on-one, it’s like the uncle who takes his 10 year old nephew out to the garage to show him a few tips on how to handle himself in a fight if that bully harasses him again. Do a little wrestling in gym classes, that’s another level of organization. Join a martial arts program with an international association and a standardized curriculum, that’s a much higher level of organization.

With persuasion training it’s similar. When a parent talks to their kid about how to talk to other people, that’s persuasion training. Learn how to write a good argumentative essay in school, that’s persuasion training. Join a debate club, that’s persuasion training. Learn how to write a publishable research paper, that’s persuasion training. Sign up for a weekend seminar on Neuro-Linguistic Programming and sales techniques, that’s persuasion training.

These are all analogous to different styles of martial arts programs, except even more diverse and varied than you see in traditional martial arts.

Now, let’s bring our MMA fan back into the picture.

Just as we can imagine someone saying that if you really want to learn how to fight, you shouldn’t stick with one style, you should train in multiple styles, we can imagine someone saying that if you really want to learn how to be persuasive, you shouldn’t stick with just one style or school of persuasion, you should train in multiple persuasion styles.

This would be like the MMA of persuasion.

I can imagine people being very interested in something like MMA for persuasion skills. I know I would be.

Now, there really isn’t anything like this out there, in terms of a structured program. But there are individuals who fancy themselves students of persuasion in general, and devote time to reading and learning as much as possible about a wide range of persuasion methods, including what I would call ‘critical thinking’ methods, like classical logic and argumentation, scientific reasoning, and so forth.

I think that some of the NLP gurus think they’ve got the broadest, most comprehensive program of instruction out there, but that’s mostly bullshit. Most of them have no background in real logic and real argumentation, for example, so they have no concept of what a good argument is, as opposed to a merely persuasive argument.

But now we’re getting closer to home.

An MMA of persuasion and argumentation is something that I would like to see built. A program of instruction in foundational concepts and techniques that can apply to a wide range of scenarios, that draws from different persuasion styles that are known to be effective across these different scenarios.

Now, at this point I’m going to need to draw a distinction. There are two ways this MMA idea can go, and both are viable, but we’re going to have to pick sides.

If the exclusive focus of this program of instruction is persuasion — successfully getting people to accept your conclusion or make the choice you want them to make, then this is similar to an MMA program where the ultimate goal is to become a better fighter.

In my notes to myself I’ve been calling the person who is a master of diverse styles of persuasion, a Persuasion Ninja. You rise up the ranks of the persuasion MMA, you eventually become a Persuasion Ninja.

However, if your focus isn’t solely on persuasion, but also on persuasion for good reasons — actually having good reasons for the beliefs you have, and the decisions you make then this is similar to an MMA program where the ultimate goal isn’t just to become a better fighter. You’re also committed to something else, something that transcends combat, and even the physicality of training. Something that aims at truth and wisdom.

The person who rises through the ranks of this MMA program, who masters a variety of persuasion styles while also remaining dedicated to the goals of genuinely good argumentation, and the intellectual virtues that go with it … I call that person an Argument Ninja.

We saw examples like this when we looked at the philosophy of taekwondo, where it’s quite explicit — the ultimate goal isn’t to become the best fighter, it’s to achieve some other spiritual or ethical goals.

In standard MMA training you don’t normally see this kind of explicit philosophical commitment, but the example of Bruce Lee illustrates how it’s possible to be committed to caring about the effectiveness of the combat system, and be committed to philosophical goals that transcend combat.

What I’m talking about isn’t any more unrealistic. It’s just that no one is doing it. Looking at the scene today, the people who are most interested in persuasion tend to be uninterested in, or ignorant of, genuinely good argumentation. Or if they do, they spend no time teaching it or discussing its importance. They figure that’s someone else’s job.

It’s a modern day version of what the Sophists were teaching back in the days of Plato. How to win friends and influence people, how to master yourself and achieve personal and professional success, how to become irresistible to the opposite sex, how to convert visitors to fans and fans to customers, how to hypnotize the masses and win an election, how to deflect attention away from the criminal activities of governments and large corporations.

Some of these uses are good and worthwhile, some are not so good, and some are terrible.

The MMA program for Persuasion Ninjas wouldn’t take a stand on how these persuasion skills are used. Individual Persuasion Ninjas may care, according to their conscience — you can have good ninjas and bad ninjas — but they view the skills themselves as neutral. How you use them is up to the discretion of the individual. If you want to use your persuasion skills to fight for peace and justice, that’s great. If you want to use them to get young women hooked on binge drinking, that’s your business.

The MMA program for Argument Ninjas does take a stand on how persuasion skills are used, it has to. If we imagine the overarching goals of this MMA program to include the basic goals of critical thinking — to improve the quality of our beliefs and judgments, and to promote the rational agency of individuals — then there are certain forms of persuasion that, all other things being equal, we should avoid. These are like the Five Tenets of Taekwondo, in the sense that they serve as ideals that constrain the practice, but also are served by the practice.

For example, if I’m using persuasion techniques that systematically bypass your reasoning faculties in ways that you cannot detect, to compel you to believe or do things that undermine your capacity for independent critical thinking, all other things being equal, that’s a bad thing.

So, I’m on the side of a mixed martial arts approach to teaching persuasion and argumentation, where the goal is to produce Argument Ninjas, not just Persuasion Ninjas.

The analogies go beyond traditional martial arts.

When you have these skills in your possession, you’ll be able to do things that other people can’t. You’ll be tempted by the Dark Side, to cultivate influence and wield power for personal gain. The Jedi are ambassadors for the Light Side. Yoda and Obi-Wan and the Jedi are Argument Ninjas of the Star Wars universe.

In the Harry Potter universe there are good wizards and bad wizards. But there are schools of magic, like Hogwarts, that are run by wizards who are committed to the good. Yet in order to teach their students properly, they have to teach them the Dark Arts as well, so they understand how magic can be bent to evil purposes, and how to defend against it. Harry and Hermione and Ron are training to be Argument Ninjas of the Harry Potter universe.

In these fictional universe where there’s a struggle for control between a light side and a dark side, the question always arises: which is stronger?

I’ll let Master Yoda answer that question for me.

YODA

Run!  Yes.  A Jedi’s strength flows from the Force.  But beware of the dark side.  Anger… fear… aggression.  The dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight.  If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan’s apprentice.

LUKE

Vader.  Is the dark side stronger?

YODA

No… no… no.  Quicker, easier, more seductive.

LUKE

But how am I to know the good side from the bad?

YODA

You will know.  When you are calm, at peace.  Passive.  A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.

LUKE

But tell me why I can’t…

YODA

(interrupting)

No, no, there is no why.  Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions. 

Mmm.  Mmmmmmmm.

Thank you for listening.

If you want to leave comments or questions, please visit argumentninja.com and look for episode 008.  I’d love to get your feedback on this episode.

If you’d like to support this podcast, and the creation of a real life MMA for Argument Ninjas program, please consider becoming a Patron. Visit patreon.com/kevindelaplante to learn more about incentive bonuses for Patrons and the other work I do at the Critical Thinker Academy.

By the way, if you’re listening to this and you’re on Facebook you should definitely go over to facebook.com/criticalthinkeracademy and like that page, because I share comments and videos there that I’m sure you’d appreciate knowing about.

Thanks again for listening. Hope you have a great week.

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007 – When Rational Debate is Impossible


In This Episode:

We do some housekeeping, I answer a student question that updates one of my most important lectures on the rules that have to be satisfied to have a rational conversation, and I tell you about a new project I’m working on and how you can get exclusive access to it.

  • The problem that Sam Harris is struggling with
  • A Q&A question from Essi on what to do when people “just don’t get it”
  • my original answer to the question “what conditions must be satisfied to have a rational conversation with someone?”
  • my first amendment: (1) what to do after you’ve recognized that there’s a problem
  • my second amendment: (2) what to do in light of the fact that our capacity to reason comes in degrees
  • my latest video course project (“Is Your Brain a Computer?”) and how you can get early access to those videos

Quotes:

“The reality is that this is a skill that requires a high degree of judgment and self-awareness, and some people are a just better at it than others. They read the temperature of the room better. They’re better at not triggering defensive reactions. They’re better at helping people to see an issue from a different point of view, without being alienating or threatening. They’re better at the dance of conversation that bring people closer together rather than pushing them apart.”

“What I’m describing here is exactly the skill set that I think is missing when we teach argumentation and rational persuasion…. That’s the skill set that I’m trying to deconstruct in this podcast.”


References and Links

 


Subscribe to the Podcast


Play or download the mp3 file for this episode


This is the Argument Ninja podcast, episode 7!

Hi everyone this is Kevin deLaplante and you’re listening to the Argument Ninja podcast, the podcast dedicated to the art and science and ethics of rational persuasion, and to the notion that logical self-defense and rational persuasion can be viewed, and should be viewed, as a martial art.

On this episode: we do some housekeeping, I tell you about a new project I’m working on and how you can get exclusive access to it, and I answer a student question that updates one of my most important lectures on the rules that have to be satisfied in order to have a rational conversation.

This episode is going to be a little bit of a break from the most recent series of episodes. I’ve been working my way through a  list of topics on different domains where the goals of persuasion are front and center. So we talked about persuasion and the art of getting people to like you, persuasion in selling and marketing, and in the last episode, persuasion in the seduction and pickup artist community. Next on my list was persuasion in the context of magic and mentalism and hypnotism, but I’ve decided to delay that topic.

I’ve been listening to Sam Harris’s podcast and he has a habit of starting off shows with some housekeeping comments that take about 10 or 15 minutes where he explains why he has to have the conversation he’s about to have, and then apologizes in advance for everything’s he’s about to say.

I don’t think I need to apologize for anything, but maybe some housekeeping comments are in order.

First, I’d like to give you listeners an opportunity to weigh in on the format of the show. Topic-wise, I admit that this show hits on themes that might seem a bit random if you’re just dipping into it and haven’t been following it from the beginning.

I’ve got a small handful of themes that I’m trying to explore, that are tied together in my mind, but that individually may not seem to have much to do with each other.

One is the martial arts theme, and the advantages of thinking about being trained up in rational persuasion by analogy with being trained up in a martial art. I have lots to say about this, and I’ve really just touched on it so far.

Another theme that I’m exploring is about the science and practice and psychology of persuasion. Again, I’ve really just started talking about this, but I’m aware that it may be confusing to listen to a discussion about the sacred space of the martial arts training hall in one episode, and the history of seduction methods in the next episode. How is this supposed to fit together?

And a third theme, that I haven’t really gotten into yet, is about standards of good argumentation — what good reasoning actually looks like, in general and in specific cases. When I add that in, it might make it even more confusing for new people.

Actually, I don’t think it’s all that confusing for the people who are fans of the show and listening through, because I’m confident that you’re picking up the connecting threads.

I guess my main concern is that, while the show isn’t long as podcasts go, it is fairly dense. And the question I have is whether I should restrict myself to one topic per show, and maybe keep the episodes shorter, or continue as I’ve been doing and take on more than one topic, and make them a bit longer. For me, shorter is in the 15 to 20 minute range, and longer is in the 30 to 40 minute range.

Like in the last episode, for the first half I talked about the difference between teaching logic and argumentation in the classroom, and what it’s like to actually engage with people in the real world outside the classroom, and how different that can be. Then in the second half of the show I talked about Ross Jeffries and Tom Cruise and the seduction community and whether these speed seduction techniques actually work.

The question is whether I should stick to one topic per episode or keep up with this patchwork thing that I’ve been doing so far.  Do you find the subject matter shifts jarring or are you okay with them?

Let me know in the comments what you think, I’m really quite interested in your feedback on this.

But I’ll tell you up front, I’m leaning toward sticking to a single topic per show, with some framing commentary at the beginning and the end.

One of my reasons, I’ll admit, is that a shorter show on a single topic per show is easier for me to produce on a regular schedule. And this is important because while I’m producing the podcast, I’m also producing videos for courses that I’m developing.

For example, I’m currently working on a video course on the philosophy of cognitive science, called “Is Your Brain a Computer?”. So I’m writing and producing videos on arguments for and against the view that the brain functions like a computer, that thinking should be viewed as a computational process of some kind, and all the related topics about the possibility of strong artificial intelligence, conscious robots, and so on.

I’m doing that while I’m producing this show. I want to keep on a regular weekly schedule for both, so that’s a reason to keep these shows shorter and more focused, so that it’s easier for me to maintain this schedule.

Anyway, I wanted to be up front about that. And by the way, at the end of this episode I’ll let you know how you can get early, exclusive access to the videos in this brains, minds and computers course that I’m doing.

Okay, I’m going to return now to Sam Harris. My earlier comment about Sam’s podcast won’t make much sense to you if you don’t listen to Sam, but I’ve been thinking about the general problem that he’s been struggling with, which is about how to have productive, civil conversations with people with whom one might have ideological or political disagreements, or when the issues themselves are highly politicized within the culture. In Sam’s case, he’s talking about Islam and religion and atheism and race relations, and he himself is a politicized figure, which makes all of this even harder.

Sam’s had a couple of guests on his show offer him free advice on rhetorical strategy for approaching these conversations. Neil Degrasse Tyson did it a while back, and most recently, at this time I’m recording this, in his conversation with Eric Weinstein.

One of my goals with this podcast is to shed some light on this phenomenon of conversations that start out promising and then get bogged down or hijacked. This happens to everyone, but it’s a particular problem for those of us who fancy ourselves intellectuals or rationalists of some sort, who find ourselves looking for opportunities to engage with people on important topics. And then we’re frustrated when people don’t always respond in the way we’d like them to, or don’t adhere to the rules of rational conversation that we would impose on ourselves, like not attacking straw men or not ignoring your last point and changing the subject.

Over at the Critical Thinker Academy, which you can find at criticalthinkeracademy.com, I have a question and answer section on the site where people can submit questions. Here’s a question I just received this morning, the morning that I’m recording this. This is from a woman named Essi. I won’t give her last name because I didn’t ask her permission to talk about her question on the podcast, but here’s what she sent me.

Quote: 

I have been studying logical and critical thinking and I feel I can recognize some bad arguments etc. However, some people just “don’t get it”. It may be that they don’t understand the difference between valid/strong/deductive/non-deductive/irrelevant/etc.  arguments. Sometimes they simply mix everything and reach some conclusion that is only partly true, or valid, but they think they have proven their point. Sometimes they simply wander around and end up “some place else “. This is very frustrating and I feel they need more than a five-minute explanation of why they haven’t proven what they think they have. Unfortunately I am not very patient and I wouldn’t make a good educator. But I don’t want them to feel all smug thinking that they were right all along.

What do you suggest in such cases?

This is an example of what I’m talking about. Lots of us can relate to this.

In this particular question, Essi is concerned about not having enough time or patience to educate someone about the problems with their reasoning. And she doesn’t like that feeling of frustration when someone leaves a conversation with you and they think they’ve won the day or gotten the upper hand, and you feel the exact opposite, or you feel like you had to keep your mouth shut or patronize them because you don’t see a way of productively engaging with this person.

Time can be a factor, but the problem usually isn’t just a matter of not having enough time. Sam Harris has lengthy conversations with smart people, hours of conversation, and he can come away feeling the very same frustration.

So, let me offer some comments on this general problem.

I talk about this issue a little bit in my course on informal fallacies, which again you can check out at criticalthinkeracademy.com.

There, I talk about a class of fallacies that involve a violation of what I call the rules of rational conversation. These are minimal rules that have to be satisfied for a rational conversation to even be possible. In order to have a rational conversation with someone, you have to assume three things:

One, the person knows about the subject under discussion. They’re not ignorant about the subject.

Two, the person is able and willing to reason well.

And three, the person is not lying.

If any of these are not satisfied — if the person is ignorant about the subject, if they’re unable or unwilling to reason well, or if they’re willing to lie or distort the truth, then you can’t have a rational conversation with them.

If a person is ignorant about the subject, they have no grounds for having reasoned opinion. If my mechanic says my car needs the tie rods replaced, and I don’t know anything about cars, I’m not in a position to argue with him about the point. If my physics professor says that we’ve confirmed the existence of the Higgs particle, and I don’t have relevant expertise in physics, I can’t get into an argument with him about it. And if I did challenge his opinion, he couldn’t have an argument with me. He could try to educate me about the science, he could try to explain why the evidence for the Higgs is strong, but he and I couldn’t have an argument about the evidence, if I don’t know enough about the subject under discussion.

Now, when might a person be unable to reason well? An obvious case would be a parent talking to a child. If a child is too young to understand and process the reasons why it’s in their best interest to drink less pop and eat more vegetables, there’s no point in the parent trying to argue the point with them. You can’t have a genuine argument about it.

Another case is when you find someone temporarily in a highly emotional state. Under those conditions, it may not be possible to reason with them. You can offer reasons, but they aren’t in a position to process and assess them properly.

Or you might find yourself in a situation with a person who wants to reason well, but doesn’t have the capacity to follow reasoning that is too complex or abstract. There’s a wide range of aptitude in the population on this. And one’s reasoning ability can vary from topic to topic. Some people are better at following ethical arguments, and worse at following mathematical or abstract logical arguments. A lot of this comes down to familiarity and practice.

And finally, it goes without saying that if you suspect a person is consistently lying or misrepresenting positions that you know  they understand, or if they have a strong motivation to lie, and a track record of lying about a particular topic, then you can’t have a genuine argument with this person.

Rational conversation, rational discussion, has rules. These rules are a precondition for having a rational conversation at all. It’s not that different from sitting down with someone to play chess. If you discover that the person across from you isn’t willing or able to play by the rules, then you stop playing. Continuing to play, under the mistaken belief that you’re still playing chess, is a mistake.

Okay, what I just said here is the position I take in my course on informal fallacies. With the examples I gave, it’s obvious to see how the criteria apply. I picked them because they’re obvious.

And the tone of this position is pretty definitive, it makes the situation seem fairly black and white. Either it’s possible to have a rational conversation with a person or you can’t, and the trick is to become sensitive to when you can’t.

I think this way of thinking is important and has its uses. These are useful concepts to have in your back pocket. Way too many people get into trouble trying to argue with people in conditions that make genuine argumentation impossible.

But it’s also obvious, I think, that this picture I just gave, is very incomplete.

First, it doesn’t really address the question of what to do after you’ve recognized that there’s a problem.

And second, it doesn’t acknowledge the fact that in real people, these attributes — background knowledge, willingness to reason, ability to reason, truthfulness — these attributes come in degrees. The quality of our rational conversations comes in degrees, it’s not always black and white.

So, to complicate things, let’s talk about this first point.

Let’s say I decide that the person I’m talking to isn’t able or willing to reason well about this particular topic, and it’s pointless to argue with them about it.

Now, what do I do?

Do I give up and change the subject? Or do I change my approach to the interaction I’m having with this person? Maybe they’re not in a position to reason well right now, but are there things I can do to change that?

The range of possible responses can be huge. What you do will depend on the context, the details of the relationship, the nature of the the issue at hand, and what you want to get out of it.

Is this person a family member that you’re going to have long relationship with anyway? Is this someone you’ve just met and may not meet again? Is this an anonymous commenter on the internet?

Do you think the person is reacting defensively? If so, maybe there’s a strategy for de-escalating the stakes and getting inside those defenses.

Do you think the person has a real cognitive deficit that keeps them from reasoning well about this issue? Or is this a temporary or situational issue that could be improved by changing or reframing the context in some way?

And how do you feel about the outcome of this interaction? Why does their reaction frustrate you? Why are you invested in this?

These are questions that pull us deeper into the psychology of the person we’re interacting with, and deeper into our own psychology.

In some situations, the problem may not lie with the other person. The problem may lie with us, with what we’ve invested in the success or failure of these interactions.

It may be that we’re attached to something that other people pick up on. Maybe they’re reacting defensively to something that we’re manifesting in our demeanor, in our speech, in our questions.

I think we all know people who seem overly invested in winning arguments and changing minds. Sometimes they come across as overly intellectual, overly formal. They’re obviously bright and good arguers, but we find them annoying or off-putting.

Maybe that person is you, or me.

These are just questions to get us thinking about how complex the situation is that we’re discussing. When you sit down with someone to have a rational conversation, it’s not just a meeting of arguments … it’s a meeting of people.

The more you know about people — people in general, the specific people you’re interacting with, and maybe the most important person to know, yourself — the more you know, the more tools you’ll have at your disposal, and the more options you’ll be able to explore, in creating productive conversations.

Now let’s look at that second point. In most cases, our capacity to have a rational conversation comes in degrees, it’s not an all-or-nothing thing.

What does this imply for how we should respond to frustrating interactions with people?

Does it invalidate the black-and-white picture that I presented, with those three criteria that need to be satisfied for a conversation to qualify as a rational conversation?

I don’t think it does, but I’ll tell you how I rationalize the black-and-white picture with the picture where our capacity for rational communication comes in degrees.

The key is to think of this line that separates conversations that can be rational and productive and worth pursuing, and conversations that are compromised and no longer productive and no longer worth pursuing, as a choice.

There’s nothing in logic or theories of rationality that specifies where this threshold lies. We make that choice.

The line represents a decision that we’ve made about whether it’s worth it to continue this conversation with the hope of bringing about some rational resolution or change of opinion.

Different people can have good reasons to draw that line in different places.

If I’ve never met this person before and we’re talking over drinks at a party, my investment in the debate will be different than if this is a friend or a colleague of mine that I’ve known for years, and the issue is an important one that affects our relationship.

It will be different if this is an issue that really matters to me, where a resolution or a change of mind really matters to me, or if it’s just an academic issue that really doesn’t matter to me.

It will be different if the debate is public or if it’s private.

It will be different if I know I have to pick my battles, and I’ve decided whether this is a battle that needs to be fought or that I can let slide.

It will be different if the person I’m engaged with has a high tolerance for debate or a low tolerance for debate.

There are all sorts of reasons that can matter to whether I think this conversation is worth pursuing.

So yes, our capacity to have a rational conversation comes in degrees, but our decision to pursue a conversation is, by its nature, an all-or-nothing thing.

In hypothesis testing, something similar is going on. The support that a body of evidence affords a hypothesis comes in degrees, but the decision to accept or reject a hypothesis based on this body of evidence is a decision we make.

In argument analysis, the basic definition of a strong argument has a similar structure. Here’s the definition. An argument is strong if it satisfies the following condition. If all the premises were true, they would provide good reasons to accept the conclusion.

Usually this notion of good reasons is translated into some degree of probabilistic support. If all the premises were true, the conclusion would very likely be true.  What counts as “very likely” isn’t specified. Logical strength comes in degrees. What counts as strong enough — strong enough to count as ‘good reasons’ to accept the conclusion — is not a matter of logic, it’s  a decision we make, and we can have different reasons for setting that threshold higher or lower.

So the upshot is that there’s no cut and dried formula for deciding whether it’s worthwhile to pursue a conversation in the hopes that it might have some rational resolution.

The reality is that this is a skill that requires a high degree of judgment and self-awareness, and some people are a just better at it than others. They read the temperature of the room better. They’re better at not triggering defensive reactions. They’re better at helping people to see an issue from a different point of view, without being alienating or threatening. They’re better at the dance of conversation that bring people closer together rather than pushing them apart.

What I’m describing here is exactly the skill set that I think is missing when we teach argumentation and rational persuasion.

Yes, logic and evidence matters, but rational persuasion is never just about logic and evidence. It’s about rhetoric, it’s about psychology, and it’s about relationships, and it’s about knowing yourself.

When you bring all these skills into alignment, and you’re optimizing your effectiveness as a rational persuader … that’s what it means to become an argument ninja.

That’s the skill set that I’m trying to deconstruct in this podcast.

So, Essi, this is my answer to your question. I hope it was helpful in some way.

Questions can be a great way to organize episodes of the podcast, so I welcome them. You can send me an email at kevin@criticalthinkeracademy.com , or use the contact form at criticalthinkeracademy.com, or leave questions in the comments section at argumentninja.com.

Now, earlier on in this episode I mentioned this new course that I’m working on, called “Is Your Brain a Computer?”. It’s a course on the philosophical and scientific issues surrounding this concept, that minds are related to brains in something like the way that computer software is related to computer hardware. This has been a driving metaphor of the cognitive science revolution, and it it underwrites many of our assumptions about the plausibility of creating machines that can think and be conscious in the way that we are.

The only people who will have access to the videos in this course, as they’re being developed, are my supporters on Patreon. So for as little as a dollar a month, you can get exclusive access to this content, before it’s ever published. At higher support levels you also get access to courses at the Critical Thinker Academy. Like the Informal Fallacies course that I mentioned. This course is part of a four-course bundle, that you get access to if you pledge just $3 dollars a month on Patreon.

I link to my Patreon page on all my sites, so you can find it at argumentninja.com or criticalthinkeracademy.com, or you can visit directly at patreon.com/kevindelaplante.

You can also support this podcast by leaving a rating and/or a review on iTunes. iTunes is still the biggest search engine for podcasts and it would really help the profile of the show if it got featured in the new and noteworthy section on the homepage, but that won’t happen without ratings and reviews.

Thanks so much, take care and we’ll see you again next week.

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006 – Defense Against the Dark Arts II – Seduce and Destroy


In This Episode:

We look at persuasion through the eyes of seduction experts and the pickup artist community.

  • why critical thinking educators need to talk about persuasion
  • why scientific rationality is a social achievement that takes effort and vigilance to maintain
  • preparing students for life outside the dojo
  • summarizing our list of persuasion topics
  • Ross Jeffries as pioneer of the seduction community
  • NLP, hypnosis and “speed seduction”
  • Tom Cruise, Frank T.J. Mackey, and “Seduce and Destroy”
  • the seduction community’s approach to the science of persuasion
  • the difficulty of answering the question “does it work?”

Quotes:

“Science is a progressive social achievement, and like all such achievements, it takes social capital and collective effort to maintain. And it can be disrupted — by disaster, by war, by regressive ideologies, and by complacency and forgetfulness.”

“The last clip with the voiceover shows a table with all the products in the Seduce and Destroy system, including VHS tapes and instructional booklets and branded Seduce and Destroy water bottles, like you’re going to need to hydrate frequently with all the epic sex you’re going to have.”


References and Links


Subscribe to the Podcast


Play or download the mp3 file for this episode


This is the Argument Ninja podcast, episode 6!

This one is titled “Defense Against the Dark Arts – Part II – Seduce and Destroy”, a continuation of last week’s episode where I walk through a series of topics that I would include on a syllabus for a course on the philosophy and methods of persuasion, if someone were to ask me to teach such a course.

This is just an exercise of course, but it’s a useful exercise because it’s a way of exploring the terrain of persuasion science and persuasion practices, a way of getting familiar with what’s going on in this space.

But why do we need to talk about persuasion at all?

Because this show is all about what it means to be skilled in the art of rational persuasion, and before we can get to the rational part, we need to understand the persuasion part.

And who better to teach us about persuasion than the people and the communities that are dedicated to learning and practicing the art of persuasion, within their particular domain or niche?

Hi everyone and welcome to the Argument Ninja podcast. I’m your host, Kevin deLaplante, and I’m a philosopher and critical thinking educator, and on this show I’m trying to work out the foundations for an approach to critical thinking education that I’ve never seen implemented before.

Yes, we can teach logic and argumentation and principles of good reasoning, but how useful is this if people are naturally inclined to resist them? As human beings we’re naturally wired to use argumentation, first and foremost, as a tool of social persuasion, not as a tool for pursuing truth and wisdom. An argument doesn’t have to be good to be effective.  You can use argumentation very successfully as a tool of persuasion if you’re allowed to employ fallacies and manipulative rhetoric, and use debate strategies that are intellectually unfair and disingenuous.

Of course, our capacity for argumentation can be recruited into the pursuit of knowledge and truth and wisdom — that’s what philosophy and science, at their best, have been doing trying to do for 2500 years — but these achievements don’t just appear spontaneously. To discipline our thought, to conform our reason to standards of good logic, of good argumentation … that’s a social achievement that reflects the commitments and shared values of a community.

If the community is large enough and has enough support, logic and reason can thrive and accomplish wonders. We can explore the boundaries of our universe and unlock its fundamental laws. We can cure disease, extend life and create technological marvels. We can identify unjustifiable and irrational beliefs, and give them less weight in our evolving network of beliefs, to the benefit of everyone.

But none of this is inevitable. Science is a progressive social achievement, and like all such achievements, it takes social capital and collective effort to maintain. And it can be disrupted — by disaster, by war, by regressive ideologies, and by complacency and forgetfulness.

When I was a university teacher, I thought that by teaching logic and good reasoning in the classroom, and having students graduate and go off into the world, we were helping to disseminate these principles of good reasoning into public society at large.

But I realize now how naïve I was. I failed to appreciate how culturally and normatively specific these principles are — principles of good logic, sound argumentation, proper evaluation of evidence, and rules for managing disagreement through rational dialogue and debate.

And I failed to appreciate how different the rules are outside the classroom, and outside the institutions that actively protect and support these principles. The natural psychology of human reason and judgment is different from the idealized norms of good reasoning that we teach in the classroom. If we don’t teach our students how they’re different, in what ways they’re different, and how to engage with people in the real world on their terms, in ways that will resonate with them, I believe we’re setting our students up — and indeed all of us — for discouragement and frustration.

In episode four I argued that the rules of good argumentation are similar to the elements of a martial art that is normally practiced within the sacred space of the martial arts training hall, the dojo.

The world outside the dojo is very different, and a good martial arts instructor understands the difference. When they teach practical self-defense techniques for situations you may encounter outside the dojo, on the street, they’re not going to teach you how to split-kick two opponents at once.

No, they’re going to spend time talking about environmental and situational awareness, how to recognize signs of danger and avoid danger, how to manage stress and project confidence, how to assess the psychology of the aggressor and work with that psychology to reduce the risk of a physical confrontation, how to deescalate situations with an aggressor, and if a physical confrontation seems inevitable, how to end that confrontation in the most effective and decisive way possible.

When it comes to traditional martial arts, self-defense training is quite different from the core training of the martial art. But most schools do train for self-defense, because they know that their students are going to walk out that door and into a world that follows its own rules, and they need to be prepared to meet the world as it is, not as they would like it to be.

I feel the same way about teaching students how to reason well and argue effectively. We need to prepare them for the real world, not just the idealized world of the classroom, or the debate hall, or the academic peer review process, where you can safely assume that everyone understands the rules of the game and there’s incentive to follow the rules.

In the real world the incentives are very different, and people’s natural psychology is driven by confirmation bias, motivated reasoning, cognitive dissonance, and a host of other biases and situational factors that operate unconsciously to influence how we respond to disagreement and to efforts to persuade us.

That’s why I think it’s important that we speak more openly about these psychological realities, and make that discussion part of our training in critical thinking and argumentation.

Right now, this discussion is not happening. With very rare exceptions, it’s not happening in the standard textbooks, and it’s not happening in the classrooms.

In many of the standard, logic-oriented critical thinking textbooks used in college and university classrooms, you won’t even find the term “confirmation bias” in the glossary or the index. I just did a quick check of ten textbooks that are on my bookshelf, and only three of them had a reference to confirmation bias. And in each case, if you turn to the page reference, the term only appears on one line of one page of a textbook that has between 500 and 700 pages.

And in none of the standard standard critical thinking textbooks that I’ve looked at is there an entry for the term “cognitive bias”, or any discussion of the psychology of cognitive biases in general.

It’s important that we not just mention these psychological concepts, but actually look at them in some detail, and understand how they operate in the context of persuasion, how they actually influence what people think and feel.

These are the Dark Arts of persuasion.  An “argument ninja” has studied the Dark Arts and respects their power.

So, with that preamble out of the way, let’s continue the discussion we started last episode.

Just to catch up, my list of persuasion topics is organized around the different domains where persuasion methods are applied.

I’ll walk down the list first.

  1. people skills — how to make people like you
  2. selling and marketing skills — how to get people to say “yes” to an offer
  3. seduction skills (including “pickup artist” skills) — how to attract a romantic or sexual partner
  4. magic and mind reading skills — how stage magicians and mentalists control the mental states of audience members
  5. confidence games and the skills of the con artist — how people can be strategically manipulated, deceived and defrauded
  6. persuasion in advertising — how ad campaigns create desire and demand for a product
  7. persuasion in politics — how to influence public perception of a politician or a political issue
  8. persuasion in the internet age — how the integration of digital technologies in our lives influences what we think and believe and value
  9. power and propaganda — how larger institutions can influence social behavior and beliefs on a large scale, as a means of maintaining power and social control

Last episode I talked about the first two on this list: people skills, and selling and marketing skills.

The third on the list is seduction kills, so let’s talk about this a bit.

There’s a thing called the “seduction” community, sometimes called the “pickup artist” community”, though I think it’s more accurate to say that the pickup artist community is focused on techniques for attracting a sexual partner and actually having sex — closing the deal, as they say — within a short period of time — like, four to eight hours, or at most a weekend. There are other longer term seduction tactics, where the goal is to attract a real, long term romantic partner who genuinely loves you, but in that context no one uses the language of “pickup” tactics.

The pickup artist community emerged in the late 80s and early 90s, and the pioneering figure here is probably Ross Jeffries. Jeffries was the first to develop and market a system, what he called the “speed seduction” system, which he turned into a successful business, selling books and DVDs and workshops to men, teaching men how to improve their “game”.

Recall, last episode we talked about Neuro-Linguistic Programming and its two founders, Richard Bandler and John Grinder. NLP took off in the 1980s and it continues to be popular in the sales and business and personal development industries.

Well, in the late 80s and early 90s, Ross Jeffries trained with Richard Bandler and became a devotee of NLP and Ericksonian hypnosis. Jeffries applied this training to a specific challenge — how to teach men who are not naturally good with women, a method for successfully attracting a sexual partner.

So, in the early days at least, Jeffries’ “speed seduction” method is basically NLP and Ericksonian hypnosis applied to dating and seduction.

As he would describe it, his course taught men how to use NLP and hypnosis to lead women into the right psychological states. For example, even if you weren’t a particularly good looking guy, his techniques were designed to induce in women the same psychological states they would experience, in the present of a genuinely good looking guy.

If you were to look at the list of techniques that he teaches, you would see terms like “embedded commands”, “trance words”, “anchoring” and “deep rapport building”.  This language comes right out of the NLP and hypnosis playbooks.

Jeffries’ method was especially famous for the use of rehearsed language patterns or stories which were meant to be memorized and performed in order to elicit specific emotional responses such as intrigue, or a feeling of connection, or arousal. I think in his later years he’s dropped most of this script memorizing and focuses more on getting men to come up with their own scripts and stories that fulfill these functions, and he spends more time working on men’s inner narrative and self-confidence.  Actually I think he’s a practicing Buddhist now, and works more on self-development and transformational change than speed seduction.

Another feature of Jeffries’ early method was this persona that he cultivated, and that he performed in his workshops and public talks, as a man who is uncompromisingly frank about men and women’s sexual desires and true motivations, and who takes pleasure in manipulating women and boasting about his sexual conquests and selling this dream of sexual mastery to men.

I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie Magnolia. It’s from 1999, it’s directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, the director of Boogie Nights and There Will Be Blood and a bunch of other really great films. In this movie, Tom Cruise plays this outrageous seduction expert named Frank T.J. Mackey, and if you’ve never seen it, you should go to YouTube and search for Magnolia and Tom Cruise, because this is a really great performance. I mention this because Ross Jeffries was the inspiration Tom Cruises’ character, who teaches a method he calls “Seduce and Destroy”.

The filmmakers produced a fake late-90s-era seduce-and-destroy infomercial, something you meet see on late night tv. It’s on YouTube, I’ll link to it in the show notes, but here’s the audio. This is Tom Cruise as Frank T.J. Mackey.

The last clip with the voiceover shows a table with all the products in the Seduce and Destroy system, including VHS tapes and instructional booklets and branded Seduce and Destroy water bottles, like you’re gonna need to hydrate frequently with all the epic sex you’re going to have.

And I just checked and that URL, seduceanddestroy.com, is currently available for the low price of 3600 dollars.

Well the seduction community has changed since the 1990s. Jeffries launched internet forums for people interested in pickup artist techniques to share their stories, and he inspired a new crop of seduction gurus to set up their own programs. So within a few years there was a proliferation of figures in the industry selling their own systems and a proliferation of underground workshops and classes and bootcamps, where guys would get together in someone’s apartment or basement or cottage and talk about the methods, how many women they had approached within the last week, how they did, and what what was successful and what wasn’t.

Initially, a lot of these systems were pretty straight copycats of the NLP/hypnosis model that Jeffries had pioneered, but another interesting feature of the community is that in many cases it was a self-teaching community that wasn’t wedded to theoretical purity. The gurus were more concerned about purity because they were selling a system, but the audience … these nerdy guys were reading all the sales and marketing books and all the new stuff coming out of the social science of persuasion, like Robert Cialdini’s work, and new information on cognitive biases coming out of behavioral economics, and talking about how bits and pieces of this information could apply and help improve their game.

So, over the past ten or fifteen years, persuasion theory in the seduction community has become more pluralistic, more pragmatic, less homogenous. From a theoretical perspective, Milton Erickson and Robert Bandler and Robert Cialdini and Daniel Kahneman couldn’t be more different, but the seduction community is more focused on practical success than theoretical purity so they’re not afraid to pick and choose items that they think might work together.

But there’s still an affinity, within the community, for system-building, for working out strategies that string together techniques borrowed from a range of disciplines, into a program that can be learned and taught. It’s the sort of activity that computer programmers and nerdy gamers might naturally find attractive.

How successful these programs are, is another question. It’s been observed that men in the pickup artist community often spend more time with each other, talking about their programs than they do getting to know actual women.

It goes without saying that it’s quite difficult to test any of this. There are plenty of cases of men who became more successful with women after taking these courses and implementing their techniques, and who genuinely feel that this information has transformed their lives. But it’s hard to know what exactly is responsible for this success.  A little confidence can go a long way. Does a positive interaction with a woman mean that you’ve successfully deployed an NLP technique? Or that the positive response is due to the technique operating in the way that NLP theory says it does? Of course it doesn’t follow.

There’s also a numbers game element to this, where if you go from never approaching women to approaching ten or twenty women a week, by the odds alone your chances of having a successful encounter are higher, even if none of the methods are working the way they’re advertised.

But that said, I don’t want to dismiss these methods out of hand. I think there’s a knee-jerk reaction among people who are strongly critical of the seduction community — for the way it views and treats women, for example — to assume that everything it says about gender dynamics or the psychology of seduction must be wrong. That would be a mistake.

I also think there’s plenty of reason to think that some of these psychological methods, when deployed by someone with enough skill, are demonstrably effective. You just have to look at magicians and mentalists who specialize in methods derived from hypnosis to see that there’s a very real phenomenon here, that attention and perception and belief and emotion can be influenced in a deliberate and controlled way. There may be disagreement about why it works, what the underlying psychological mechanisms are — but there’s no question that it works in a predictable way.

This phenomenon alone is worth taking time to study more closely.

So, next episode we’re going to talk about the tools of the professional mentalist, hypnotist and mind reader, and see what we can learn about persuasion from them.

I want to thank you for listening.

You can find show notes for this episode at argumentninja.com, episode 6, with links to the references mentioned in this episode, including that great Seduce and Destroy informercial, a complete transcript of the episode.

This show is brought to you by … me. I work on this podcast, and produce videos for the Critical Thinker Academy, full-time. All the revenue I earn, to support myself and my family, comes from people like you, who appreciate the content and want to see it continue and grow.

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Thanks again, have a great week, and I’ll see you back here next week for another episode.

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005 – Defense Against the Dark Arts (Part I)


How would I organize a graduate seminar on the philosophy and methods of persuasion? Hmm…

Here’s one way of approaching this. Organize the material around the different domains of application where persuasion skills are deployed (people skills, sales and marketing skills, persuasion in advertising, etc.).

In this episode I begin with some general points about the science and practice of persuasion, and then discuss the first two of the nine areas on this list. Next episode we’ll move down the list.

  1. people skills
  2. selling and marketing skills
  3. seduction skills (including “pickup artist” skills)
  4. magic and mind reading skills
  5. confidence games and the skills of the con artist
  6. persuasion in advertising
  7. persuasion in politics
  8. persuasion in the internet age
  9. power and propaganda

In This Episode:

  • Dumbledore gets it. Why Hogwarts needs a “Defense Against the Dark Arts” class.
  • the science and practice of persuasion is not a unified thing
  • Robert Cialdini’s six principles of influence, and the nature of his research project
  • persuasion practices as guilds, and the guild mentality
  • “people skills”: how to make people like you
  • Dale Carnegie, Robert Cialdini, and Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP)
  • Richard Bandler, John Grinder and the origins of NLP
  • Milton Erickson and indirect hypnosis
  • Scott Adams is an “Ericksonian”; Scott Adams on Trump
  • “sales and marketing” skills: how to influence people to say “yes” to an offer
  • Daniel Kahneman, Amos Tversky, and the cognitive biases and heuristics revolution
  • the status and reputation of NLP in the mainstream scientific community
  • a quick look at the rest of the items on the curriculum list
  • how you can support this podcast on Patreon

Quotes:

“There’s a reason why at Hogwarts, “Defense Against the Dark Arts” is a required subject for every student, from first year to fifth year. Dumbledore gets it.  As a good wizard, you need to know what the bad wizards are throwing at you, so you can anticipate them and learn how to defend against them.

“If you study the persuasion practices that have evolved over decades and in some cases centuries, within any these communities, you’re going to learn something important about human nature. “


References and Links


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Play or download the mp3 file for this episode


This is the Argument Ninja podcast, episode 5!

Hi everyone and welcome to the Argument Ninja podcast. I’m your host, Kevin deLaplante, and I’m a philosopher and critical thinking educator.

I spent 20 years teaching philosophy at universities in Canada and the US, 16 of those years at Iowa State University, where I was a tenured professor and for a time served as Chair of the Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies.

In 2015 I left that job to become a freelance philosopher of sorts.  Now I run the Critical Thinker Academy, which is a video training site, and I produce the podcast that you’re listening to, which is where I’m sharing my latest thoughts on how to teach critical thinking and what it means to be skilled in the art and science of “rational persuasion”.

What I’m calling “rational persuasion” is what happens when you combine rational argumentation and psychological persuasion, when you harness the power of unconscious psychological mechanisms of persuasion in the service of the higher ideals of critical thinking and rational argumentation — ideals of truth-seeking, openness and responsiveness to reasons, critical inquiry, intellectual curiosity, integrity, responsibility, ownership of one’s beliefs and values, and so on.

You won’t find a textbook on this subject, because historically these two topics — rational argumentation and psychological persuasion — have been treated like oil and water, like they’re incompatible at a fundamental level.

The standard view is that persuasion techniques undermine the core values of reason and independent critical thought, because they work by bypassing our conscious, rational faculties and directly engaging the unconscious, emotion-driven centers of the brain. How can bypassing our conscious, deliberative reasoning processes promote the goals of critical debate and discussion? Isn’t that just manipulation?

On the face of it, there seems to be a genuine problem of how to combine these in a way that doesn’t alter what it means to have and offer good reasons to believe something.

I’m not going to deny this, I agree it’s a problem. And maybe the integration that I’m suggesting will require that we give up some of our intuitions about what it means to be a rational agent.

But before we get to that, I think we need to spend some time getting familiar with the art and science of persuasion.

Even if you’re skeptical about the integration that I’m proposing, every person who aspires to be an independent critical thinker needs to be aware of these methods and how they work, if only for self-defense.

There’s a reason why at Hogwarts, “Defense Against the Dark Arts” is a required subject for every student, from first year to fifth year. Dumbledore gets it.  As a good wizard, you need to know what the bad wizards are throwing at you, so you can anticipate them and learn how to defend against them.

[The Argument Ninja move is to learn how to harness those techniques in a way that serves the good, that doesn’t turn you into a bad wizard.

But that’s looking ahead, we’ll get to that later.]

First, we need to get a lay of the land. So in this episode, my goal is sketch out a very high-level, 20,000 foot picture of the landscape of persuasion techniques and persuasion science.

To help me think this through, I asked myself, if I had to teach a graduate seminar on the history and philosophy of persuasion techniques, how would I organize that course? What topics would I cover? What themes would I focus on? What would I include in the reading list?

So, let me present to you what I think I would say, in the first introductory lecture for such a course.

By the way, I’m going to split this discussion across a couple of podcast episodes, two for sure, and maybe three.

Here’s part one.

The first point I would make is that, neither the science nor the practice of persuasion is a unified thing. There is no single science of persuasion, and there is no single school of persuasion practice.

On the science side, what you see is a collection of specializations that study different aspects of human behavior that are relevant to understanding why people behave and think the way they do. But both the behavioral phenomena in question, and the theories that attempt to describe and explain these behaviors, are a heterogenous mix, not a single unitary thing.

So, there are different research programs within neuroscience, cognitive science, behavioral psychology, sociology, political science, anthropology, evolutionary theory, and more, that all have things to say about human behavior that are relevant to understanding how persuasion works. Some of these more self-consciously focused on persuasion and influence than others, but there’s no single theory or model that brings them all together.

To give an analogy, the science of persuasion is the like the science of humor — it can be studied at multiple levels of organization and through the lens of multiple disciplines, but there’s no single science of humor.

That’s on the science side. On the practice side, what you see when you survey the landscape is a collection of communities and traditions that are involved in some way with persuasion and influence, and within which there is a collection of persuasion methods that are taught and passed down within the practice.

Just to name a few, think about speech writing, as a profession. Think about magicians and the practice of stage magic. Think about the origins of stage magic in confidence games, the trade of con artists. Think about the seduction and pick-up-artist community. Think about door-to-door sales. Think about advertising and marketing professionals. Think about professional negotiators. Think about PR specialists. Think about military strategists. Think about paid psychics and palm readers.

If you study the persuasion practices that have evolved over decades and in some cases centuries, within any these communities, you’re going to learn something important about human nature.

The second point that I would make is that, in spite of the diversity of these communities and traditions, it is possible to extract some general principles from observing the persuasion practices across a subset of these traditions.

If you’re a social scientist, you might even turn this question into a scientific research program. That’s what Robert Cialdini did. He’s a Professor Emeritus of Psychology and Marketing and Arizona State University, and he’s regarded as one of the leading authorities on the social science of persuasion.

In 1984 he published a book called Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion, that was based on three “undercover” years applying for and training at used car dealerships, fund-raising organizations and telemarketing firms, to observe persuasion in action.

We’ll talk more about Cialdini’s work in a future episode, but he’s famous for showing that a huge range of persuasion techniques can be captured in terms of six principles of influence: reciprocity, commitment and consistency, social proof, authority, liking, and scarcity.

What Cialdini set out to do was to figure out what makes a person say “yes” to a purchase or a request, even when in hindsight they didn’t want it. His research began by observing the practices of people in these influence industries — salespeople, marketers, lobbyists, copywriters, etc — and looking for common patterns.

He then extracted behavioral principles from those patterns, and because he’s a social scientist, he designed social experiments to study the effects of these principles in a more controlled way.

So, not only can he show you that perceived scarcity has an influence on one’s willingness to buy a product, he can give you quantitative data showing how different types and degrees of scarcity have a differential impact on willingness to buy.

This kind of research has proven to be enormously valuable and has spawned a whole new field of social science research.

I don’t want to take anything away from Cialdini’s work,  but I’ll use him make a third point.

The third point is that we have to be careful not to overestimate the scope of what a particular research program is claiming about persuasion and human nature.

I find that there’s a tendency among persuasion enthusiasts to see everything through the lens of their particular framework and the persuasion methods that they’re familiar with.

I’m not saying Cialdini is guilty of this, but lots of his followers in business and marketing are like this. When you ask them about the science of persuasion, they’ll refer you to Cialdin’s work, as though that exhausted the science of persuasion.

But it doesn’t, of course. It’s just a piece of a much larger pie.

For example, it’s worth noting that Cialdini’s work is fairly superficial, as behavioral science goes. And I don’t mean that in a negative way. I mean that it’s mostly descriptive rather than explanatory. It’s target is observable social behavior, not the underlying biological or psychological mechanisms that might explain this behavior.

The principle of scarcity, for example, says that offers that are available only for a limited time increase willingness to buy and encourage sales. The principle of reciprocity says that people tend to return a favor. The principle of liking says that people are more easily persuaded by people who they like.

These principles may be very powerful — they may allow us to predict human behavior and craft persuasion strategies around them. But they don’t tell us WHY these strategies work, only THAT they work.

In his original research, at least, Cialdini didn’t spend much time speculating on the cognitive or neurological mechanisms that might explain why these principles work the way they do. He’s a social psychologist, not a cognitive psychologist and not a neurologist. His disciplinary training, and the research tools at his disposal, limited the kind of questions that he could answer.

And that’s fine, that’s the way science works. But it follows that if you want a deeper explanation for this behavior, you’re going to have to step outside the Cialdini framework and look elsewhere.

So, my third point is that there’s a natural tendency for people working in the field to see all persuasion phenomena through the lens of their disciplinary background and their preferred persuasion framework, and to not wander too far beyond the boundaries of this framework.

Scientists are prone to this because of disciplinary specialization, for the most part. Practitioners are prone to this because it’s tied up with a “guild” mentality, where your introduction to the practice is based on close relationships between students and teacher within a particular community or tradition, like the con artist community, or the pickup artist community, or the sales and marketing community within a particular industry.

You learn the secrets of the guild, you identify with the guild’s philosophy and methods, and it colors your perception of human nature. It’s hard to break outside that mentality to appreciate the limitations of your framework, or how other approaches to persuasion, that may be quite different, understand the same behaviors that you think you understand so well.

So, this is just a cautionary note. The landscape of persuasion science and persuasion methods is larger and more diverse than people in the field tend to think it is.

Now, let’s get back to this hypothetical curriculum I’m organizing.

There are lots of different ways one could organize this material.

One way is to organize material in terms of the intended domain of application of a certain set of persuasion techniques. This overlaps with the “guild” notion that I mentioned, where there’s a specific context where persuasion is being applied, and a certain level of secrecy surrounding the techniques that are being used.

Within each of these domains there are influential figures that everyone knows and reads, but that people outside the guild may never have heard of.  When I hit these figures, it makes sense for me to pause and elaborate on them a little bit, because that lets us see the differences in theoretical frameworks that I just mentioned.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

1. For example, I might start the curriculum with a unit on learning people skills, where the primary goal within this domain is to get people to like you and trust you.

For people skills, Dale Carnegie’s How to Make Friends and Influence People is a classic, and Cialdini’s discussion of factors that contribute to people liking you is relevant.

Since the 1970s, however, a major player in the interpersonal persuasion field is the Neuro-Linguistic Programming camp, or NLP, as it’s commonly called.

NLP is an approach to communication and personal development and behavior modification that is the brainchild of a psychologist, Richard Bandler and a linguist, John Grinder.

I’ll devote a whole episode to NLP at some point, I don’t want to get into debates about it here. I just want to point out in that a huge industry has arisen in the personal development and social skills space, aimed at business and marketing professionals, that is all about teaching NLP techniques that aim to show you how to establish rapport with someone and make them disposed to like and trust you, and respond positively to what you say or what you suggest.

So for example, there’s a popular little book called How to Make People Like You in 90 Seconds or Less, by Nicholas Boothman, and that book is basically an easy-to-read handbook of NLP techniques. The author trained with Richard Bandler, it’s mentioned in the preface, but the rest of the book doesn’t play up the NLP language, so a person could easily read it and not think they were being taught Bandler’s NLP system.

There’s another point about NLP that I would have to mention here. One of the major influences on Bandler and Grinder was the work of Milton Erickson, who was a medical doctor and a pioneer of hypnotherapy in the 1950s.

Interest in Erickson’s work increased through his association with NLP, and how successfully Bandler and Grinder marketed the NLP method through their training and workshops.

Some students gravitated to Ericksonian hypnosis specifically and paid less attention to the other elements of the NLP framework. I sometimes call these people “Ericksonians”, and they talk a lot about the power of hypnosis to influence thinking and behavior.

Early in his career, Tony Robbins, the well known self-help and performance coach, studied with Grinder and for a time taught workshops on NLP and Ericksonian hypnosis.

Now, when these people talk about hypnosis, for the most part they’re not talking about the stereotype of direct hypnosis where a therapist puts a person into a trance state. They’re talking about indirect methods of altering or suspending people’s conscious reasoning that makes them susceptive to a more direct connection to their unconscious mind. And these methods you can use in ordinary conversation with people, with no trance state.

Scott Adams, the cartoonist behind Dilbert, who I mentioned in episode 001, is an Ericksonian.  He talks a lot about persuasion, and he credits a lot of his own success to the positive effects of a training program in Ericksonian hypnosis that he completed in his 20s.

When Scott Adams talks about Donald Trump as a master persuader, more often than not, he’s specifically thinking in terms of Ericksonian methods of indirect hypnosis.

And he says this explicitly. On his blog, Scott has a persuasion reading list, and on the topic of hypnosis and Erickson he says this:

“Milton Erickson influenced Pierre Clement, who taught my hypnosis instructor, who taught me.

And…

Milton Erickson influenced Bandler and Grinder, who developed NLP, which influenced Tony Robbins (a self-help hypnotist). Tony Robbins (probably) influenced Donald Trump, by association. They worked together on at least one project.

When I listen to Donald Trump, I detect all of his influences back to Erickson. If you make it through this reading list, you might hear it too. I don’t know if Donald Trump would make a good president, but he is the best persuader I have ever seen. On a scale from 1 to 10, if Steve Jobs was a 10, Trump is a 15.

You know how the media has made fun of Trump’s 4th-grade-level speech patterns?

The joke’s on them.

He does it intentionally.”

That’s Scott Adams. We could talk about his views on persuasion and hypnosis at much greater length, but we’ll save that for another discussion.

Let’s move on to another domain of application for persuasion skills.

2.  Sales and marketing. In this context, the goal is to influence people to say “yes” to an offer. People skills factor in here, but the skill set for selling and marketing necessarily goes beyond people skills.

Because all the persuasion material on people skills applies, in the literature these usually go together, or at least side-by-side, with applications to sales and marketing.

Dale Carnegie talked about “how to make friends and influence people”. Influence how, for what reason? Your personal relationships, yes, but more often he’s talking about professional relationships, like how to network, how to make people disposed to your offer, and how to close a deal.

Now, alongside Robert Cialdini’s influential work on persuasion and influence, over the last forty years there’s been what can only be called a revolution in the psychology of human reasoning, that was initiated by the work of Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky in the 1970s.

This is the cognitive biases and heuristics revolution. And the research on cognitive biases has had a huge impact on sales and marketing strategies, by showing how cognitive biases like anchoring and framing effects can influence consumer behavior and willingness to buy.

FYI, I have a whole video course on the topic of cognitive biases and their importance for critical thinking, which you can find at the Critical Thinker Academy, at criticalthinkeracademy.com.

So, at this point in this proposed curriculum, I would pause and talk about cognitive bias research, and how it’s relevant to persuasion.

That’s a big topic. But I would also want to point out the differences between this approach to understanding human nature and persuasion, and other theoretical frameworks like NLP, and the difference in status that these approaches have within the scientific community.

It’s important for people to know, for example, that mainstream psychology is very keen on cognitive biases and the research programs that have sprung up around them, and very critical of Neuro-Linguistic Programming as presented in the work of the founders, Bandler and Grinder.

The fact is, among mainstream cognitive and social psychologists, NLP is viewed as a kind of pseudoscience. NLP has thrived outside the halls of academia, not inside.

In a proper course on persuasion, I would spend some time talking about why this is the case, what the criticisms are, and how proponents of NLP respond to these criticisms, when they respond at all.

They don’t have to of course, because the market for NLP training and coaching seems to be as big as it’s ever been.

But this highlights a point I made in the introduction, that persuasion enthusiasts are vulnerable to a kind of myopia. They may identify quite strongly with their particular school of persuasion psychology, and consequently may not be all that interested in examining alternative frameworks, or addressing criticisms of their framework.

So, we’ve talked about two domains of application for persuasion skills: people skills, that focus on how to get people to like you, and sales and marketing skills, that combines people skills with specific techniques for getting people to say “yes” to an offer of some kind.

I think I’m going to stop here for this episode, I don’t want these episodes to be too dense, so we’ll pick it up our tour through the curriculum next episode.

Just looking ahead though, let me list the categories I have on my list, so you have an idea of what’s coming.

Third on my list, is seduction skills, where the goal is to attract a romantic or sexual partner. Within this field there’s a more narrow subdomain, called the pickup artist skill set, that is almost exclusively male-oriented and is focused on how to attract and “close the deal” on a sexual partner within a short time frame.

This is a very active niche area for persuasion skills, and I want to talk about some of the main players in this area and the kinds of methods that are taught. I’m not interested in making moral judgments about this field at this stage. I’m interested in the principles they teach, what theoretical underpinnings they may or may not have, and whether they actually work or not.

For example, in this area there’s lots of talk about lessons to be learned from evolutionary theory and evolutionary psychology about how men and women view the dynamics of sex and courtship and marriage differently, because of their biology and their different roles in reproduction.

That’s worth talking about. It’s part of the “guild philosophy” in a way that you don’t see in any other persuasion guild.s

Another closely knit persuasion community is associated with magic and mind reading skills. These are the methods used by stage magicians and mentalists to manipulate the attention and the mental states of audiences.

I love this topic, I’ve been a huge fan of magic since I was a kid, and I think there’s a ton that we can learn from magicians about the psychology of persuasion. And this material intersects beautifully with previous insights from cognitive bias research and other branches of psychology.

Fifth on my list is an even more secretive guild. It’s the tradition of confidence games and the trade of the con artist, where the goal is to successfully manipulate, deceive and ultimately defraud people.

Put this material back-to-back with the insights you get from magicians, and it will humble you, I guarantee it. Maria Konnikova has a book out called The Confidence Game: Why We Fall For It … Every Time, and she has some great examples.

Sixth on my list is a more publicly acceptable form of persuasion: advertising. Here the goal is to craft advertising campaigns that create desire and demand for a particular product or service. This is another huge topic, but I would highlight some of the distinctive persuasion methods that advertising campaigns employ.

Seventh on my list is persuasion in politics, where the goal is to influence the public’s perception of political candidates and political issues. This is all tied up with media messaging and institutions of propaganda, and that’s a whole other level of persuasion.

Number eight on my list is persuasion in the internet age. How Google and other internet forces influence how we think and behave. This is a new area of concern and research and it’ll only grow in importance one time.

Number nine: Power and propaganda. Lots of interest in this. I want to talk about what propaganda is, give a brief history of propaganda, talk about how propaganda messages pervade all aspects of modern life, how propaganda is connected to power, and the maintenance of power.

What’s distinctive about this domain is the scale of application, and the nature of the mechanisms of control and influence that are employed. There’s a lot of controversy about the methods used in this domain, because it’s tied up with conspiracy thinking about the intentions and resources at the disposal of governments, but putting that aside, there’s still a lot to talk about that makes it a distinctive domain for persuasion and an important one to understand.

Well, that’s a lot, but I think it’s worth saying a few words about each of these domains, like I did with the first two topics today, on people skills and sales and marketing skills.

We’ll get into some of these areas in greater detail in later episodes, and eventually I’m going to want to talk about we can best defend ourselves from manipulations that employ these methods, and how we can harness their power for good rather than for evil.

But first things first, right?

I want to thank you for listening.

You can find show notes for this episode at argumentninja.com, episode 5, with links to the references mentioned in this episode.

As I mentioned, I have a whole two and half hour video course on cognitive biases and their importance for critical thinking, which you can find at criticalthinkeracademy.com, along with a number of other courses on topics related to logic and argumentation and critical thinking.

You can help support this podcast by leaving a review on iTunes, by letting your friends know about the show on social media, and by contributing financially through Patreon.

Patreon is a platform that allows fans to support a creator’s work by pledging small monthly  amounts, as low as a dollar per month.

There’s a link to my “thanks and support” page in the main menu of the argument ninja site.

I’d like to remind listeners that I do this work full-time, I don’t have a salaried job any more, and my goal is to be able to replace my former salary with income from course sales and from monthly Patreon supporters. As it stands right now I’m still quite a ways away from this goal, and I’m gambling on being able to build an audience over time that is willing to support the work at a level that will allow me to continue to do it.

As an incentive, I’ve set up rewards on Patreon so that patrons who pledge support at different levels, like three dollars a month, or five dollars a month, will get access to special bonuses, including access to video courses at the Critical Thinker Academy, for free, with higher pledge amounts giving you access to more courses.

So, please check that out at argumentninja.com.

I am asking for your support, and I thank you in advance for it.

Take care, have a great week, and I hope you’ll be back next week for another episode.

 

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004 – The Classroom is My Dojo


In This Episode

I explore reasons why standard critical thinking textbooks say almost nothing about the psychology of human reasoning and persuasion.

  • argumentation as rhetoric vs argumentation as tool for philosophical reasoning
  • why Plato was so hard on the Sophists
  • what it was like being socialized into philosophy as a student
  • the martial arts training hall as a ritualized space
  • why the philosophy classroom is like a dojo for training in the martial art of rational argumentation
  • understanding the rules inside the dojo vs the rules outside the dojo
  • critical thinking texts as martial arts training manuals
  • argumentation and the dream of universal reason
  • why critical thinking needs both approaches to argumentation

Quotes:

“I can’t expect a stranger to honor the rules of rational argumentation any more than I can expect a guy strangling me in a street fight to automatically release his grip if I tap out.

“We can’t make all of society our dojo, but we can teach techniques that can make us better prepared for life on the street. It’s time that critical thinking education did the same.”


References and Links


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Play or download the mp3 file for this episode


This is the Argument Ninja podcast, episode 4!

Hi everyone and welcome to the Argument Ninja podcast. I’m your host, Kevin deLaplante, and I’m a philosopher and critical thinking educator.

You can go to argumentninja.com to learn more about this podcast, show notes for each episode, my background, and my other online projects, including the Critical Thinker Academy, which is a site that hosts video tutorials on a wide range of topics related to logic, argumentation and critical thinking.

In the last episode we looked at a case study on the ethics of persuasion. When is it okay to intentionally use persuasion techniques that operate unconsciously, to achieve your goals?

I’ll have a lot more to say about this question, because it’s really fundamental to my project, but in this episode I want to return to an issue that I touched on in the first episode.

This is about the disconnect that I see between traditional ways of teaching logic and argumentation and critical thinking, and the psychological reality of how people actually form beliefs and what actually motivates people to change their mind.

At many universities you can take a full 40-hour course in symbolic logic, and a full 40-hour course on critical thinking, and get no exposure to basic concepts in classical rhetoric and persuasion, no exposure to the literature on cognitive biases and human reasoning, and no exposure to the social psychology literature on why seemingly irrational beliefs and behavior persist in different social groups.

I’m not kidding. No exposure, none.

Yes, there are exceptions, and in different textbooks you’ll see passing references here and there, a sprinkling of material on some of these topics … but as a generalization it’s still true.

I said it in the first episode and I’ll say it again: this is a disaster for critical thinking education.

In this episode I want to talk about how this situation came to be.

And I want to talk about this from my perspective as someone who taught logic and critical thinking in university philosophy departments for many years, in exactly this way, covering no material on rhetoric, no material on persuasion, no material on cognitive biases, no material from the social sciences.

I only started to wake up after teaching this way for seven or eight years. I slowly started adding extra material to my courses from these different sources. By the time I left academia, in 2015, after almost 20 years as an academic philosopher, my critical thinking courses were about 50% standard logic and argumentation, and 50% material from these other sources.

But I had to create my own reading packages to do this. The standard critical thinking textbooks weren’t any help, and for the most part they’re still not much help.

So, what’s going on here?

Well, the first thing to realize is that critical thinking education at the college and university level, where these courses are offered at all, has become the responsibility of philosophy departments, or in smaller colleges, humanities departments with a few philosophers on staff. There are exceptions, but this is generally the case.

And the second thing to realize is that historically, the dominant trend in Western philosophy has been to distinguish logic and argumentation from rhetoric or psychology.

Philosophers have tended to believe that philosophy, as a discipline, has a special claim on logic and argumentation. That in a certain way it “owns” these fields, because philosophy is uniquely concerned with the foundations of knowledge and standards of correct reasoning.

So, the separation that I’m pointing to, between the aims of logic and argumentation as philosophers have understood them, and these other branches of the humanities and social science, is actually a feature, it’s not a bug.

There’s a story to tell about why this is so, and I think this story needs to be understood and appreciated if we’re going to move past it and develop a more integrated, multi-disciplinary approach to argumentation and critical thinking.

And just a heads-up: I’m not going to crap all over philosophy and say that its approach to logic and argumentation is mistaken or misguided.

In fact, I want to defend it.

What needs to be crapped on is the idea that this approach, by itself, can serve as a foundation for effective argumentation in the social environments where most of live.

But the aims, the goals, of the philosopher’s model of argumentation, are vitally important. They need to be part of the package of concepts that we teach when we teach critical thinking. They just can’t be the only concepts we teach.

Much more on this later.

Oh, and for those who enjoy the martial arts analogies, I promise there’ll be one here. I’m calling this episode “The Classroom is My Dojo”, and there’s a reason for that.

For now, let’s start at the beginning.

If you want a quick one-sentence definition of “rhetoric”, you can say that it’s the “art of persuasive speech”.

Rhetoric is about the various ways we can use language and other forms of symbolic communication, to persuade an audience.

The study of persuasive speech goes back thousands of years.

Argumentation — understood as a type of rhetoric, a type of persuasive speech — has also been studied for thousands of years.

When it’s studied like this, you have to treat argumentation as a deeply psychological and social practice.

Why? Because it’s about offering reasons for a particular audience to accept a particular conclusion, or agree to a particular course of action, in a particular social and historical context.

In the West, we see the first systematic teaching on argumentation and persuasion with the ancient Greeks.

This is partly because Greek democracy in the 5th century BC placed a premium on a man’s ability to deliver a persuasive speech.

Political governance and decision making involved someone getting up in front of an assembly and making an oral case for a particular point of view, and winning the support of the majority.

In Greece, around the second half of the 5th century, a whole new profession popped up that offered to teach the art of persuasive speech, sometimes for a fee.

These traveling instructors would show you how to argue persuasively on any subject — ethics, philosophy, science, art, whatever — not just political topics.

In Greek philosophy, these teachers of argumentation and rhetoric were called Sophists.

The term “Sophist” derives from the Greek words for “wisdom”, sophia, and “wise”, sophos.

The Sophists claimed to be wise, and to teach wisdom.

Now, there is no doubt that there were some really smart, educated guys among the Sophists. But they had a mixed reputation among the Athenians.

Their critics were bothered that the focus of their instruction seemed to be how to be persuasive in whatever field or topic you chose, on whatever side of an issue you chose.

Plato featured the Sophists in several of his dialogues, and his student Aristotle talked about them as well. Their historical reputation has certainly been colored by the way they’re presented in Plato and Aristotle, the two influential philosophers of antiquity.

Plato, in particular, had a very negative view of the Sophists. He distinguished the use of argumentation in the service of persuasion, from the use of argumentation in the service of truth and wisdom and virtue, and he charged the Sophists with indulging in unscrupulous and fallacious reasoning, for persuasive effect.

This charge has stuck. Over time the dictionary definition of the term “sophistry” has come to mean the deliberate use of fallacious reasoning for persuasive effect.

Now, as a matter of historical scholarship, this is almost certainly an overly reductive and unfair characterization of what the Sophists were doing.

But for whatever reasons, Plato’s judgment had a huge influence on how subsequent generations viewed the Sophists.

Now, whether this judgment was fair or not, it did help to create an identity for Western philosophy, as fundamentally about the search for true wisdom, not just the appearance of wisdom.

This distinction, between a good argument, and a persuasive argument, has become fundamental to philosophy.

The goal of argumentation, on this view, isn’t persuasion for its own sake — it’s persuasion for good reasons.

Consequently, philosophers have spent a lot of time thinking about what constitutes good reasons to believe something.

This approach to argumentation treats it as a fundamental tool of philosophical reasoning, and by that I mean a tool for exploring the logical implications of our beliefs, justifying our beliefs, and uncovering truth and falsehood.

This is what I meant when I said that philosophers feel that they have a special claim on logic and argumentation, that philosophy “owns” these fields in a way that no other discipline does.

Plato’s concern was that if philosophers focus too much on the rhetorical dimensions of argumentation, they risk losing sight of these larger philosophical goals.

Fast forward 2500 years, and the situation hasn’t changed much.

Philosophy has largely followed Plato’s lead in that for the most part philosophers don’t study rhetoric and don’t teach rhetoric, and generally don’t have a positive view of rhetoric, because of its perceived association with persuasion and manipulation at the expense of truth.

So, as a philosophy student I was required to study formal logic. And there we learned about different systems of formal reasoning and how to symbolize natural language sentences in these different systems, and how to evaluate the logical structure of arguments expressed in these logical systems.

And in the first philosophy class I ever took, we were assigned a textbook called Logical Self-Defense, written by philosophers, which was quite popular as a critical thinking text.

That book covered basic concepts in argument analysis, it had a big section on informal fallacies of reasoning, and to its credit, a big section on critical thinking about the media and advertising.

What a text like this does, basically, is show you how human beings routinely violate norms of good argumentation, in the hope that you, the reader, will be better equipped to detect these violations when they occur.

This is all great as far as it goes, but as I said earlier, texts like these say almost nothing about the psychology of human reasoning, about the cognitive processes that underly human behavior, about the social conditions that influence human behavior and human judgment — in short, they say almost nothing about human nature that is relevant to understanding how argumentation actually operates in the real world.

I didn’t know this of course. I thought I was learning everything there was to learn about how to reason well.

And I was thrilled.

I was a keen student, and like many keen students who are exposed to a little logic, I started to notice fallacies everywhere — it’s like you’ve been given glasses that let you see things you’ve never seen before.

And I was thrilled with the kind of discussions we had in my philosophy classes, where the whole focus was on reading for the argument, reconstructing arguments, criticizing and revising arguments.

Any topic was fair game. We talked about arguments for and against abortion, pornography, infanticide, terrorism, war, belief in God, whether we have a soul, the morality of capitalism vs Marxism, you name it — with no worry about offending anyone’s sensibilities based on the subject matter alone.

And everyone understood the rules of the game. If an argument entailed a contradiction, or relied on an assumption that was false or dubious, everyone, students and teachers alike, understood that that was a problem that needed to be resolved, not dismissed or ignored.

As students, we learned to admire well-crafted arguments, and well-crafted counter-arguments that stayed on topic, that didn’t dodge the issue or change the subject.

We came to regard a clever, compelling counter-argument as a beautiful thing. It takes skill to come up with them. As philosophy students we learned to enjoy and value the dialectic of argument, objection, reply, rebuttal, and so on.

It was like studying chess and learning basic chess moves and strategy, and then studying classic chess matches and learning how brilliant people applied these strategies, and invented new strategies along the way.

And we learned not to mistake criticism of the argument for criticism of the person giving the argument.

We also learned that philosophical argumentation is intended to be a social thing, a public thing, that you conduct within a community.

You create an argument with the expectation that you’ll present it to an audience. And the responsibility of the audience is to interrogate the argument as forcefully as possible, to test for strengths and weaknesses, and to test one’s ability to defend the argument against criticism.

All academic fields are public and open to peer review, but philosophers rightly have a reputation for being especially forceful in their interrogation.

I remember a chemist friend of mine visiting me at a philosophy conference and sitting in on a session. The speaker had about 40 minutes to deliver his presentation, and then the audience had another full 40 minutes to ask questions.

My chemistry friend had never seen anything like it. First of all, he’d never heard of a speaker getting this much time for their presentation. He was used to 20 minutes max, and sometimes he’d only get 10 minutes at a conference to deliver his presentation, with 5 minutes of Q&A.

But this was 40 minutes of Q&A. 40 minutes of a room full of people taking turns criticizing one or another aspect of the argument, often engaging in lengthy exchanges with the presenter, following a chain of reasoning and allowing the other person to reply and ask follow-up questions.

If you’re an outsider, this experience can feel very confrontational, very stressful, like being in a boxing ring for 40 minutes with a bunch of fighters lined up to take turns on you.

My chemist friend was fascinated by the whole thing, but at one point he leaned over to me and asked “is it always like this?”, and I had to answer “yes”, most of the time — this is what peer review looks like in philosophy.

And I had to reassure him that most of the time, there’s no hard feelings. Of course people can be rude and unreasonable, and no one appreciates that, but no one trained in philosophy is bothered by the idea of having their arguments stress-tested in this way.

In fact, we appreciate the feedback enormously. We don’t want to defend bad arguments. We appreciate it when weaknesses are brought to light.

But more than that, most of us take great pleasure in the exercise itself. It can be exhilarating to be a part of, and exhilarating to watch, if you’re into the subject.

There’s definitely a performance element to it. You’re presenting your work to an audience, and people want to see how well you present it and how well you handle objections.

And there’s a game-like combat element to it.

I’m not the first one to point this out — it’s not unlike sparring in martial arts.

But the test is occurring on two levels, simultaneously.

On one level you’re testing an idea, an argument. You stress-test it to identify weaknesses and improve it.

On another level, you’re testing yourself, how well you perform “in the ring,” so to speak, in front of a real opponent, not just an imaginary opponent.

This is what it means to be socialized into academic philosophy, as a profession.

And let’s not forget, this is an academic profession.

To succeed as an academic philosopher, you need to do original research that is subject to peer review and that passes the test of peer review.

You measure success by your ability to create arguments that are judged to be worthy of publication.

That’s what the PhD degree is designed to do — to get students to a point where they can produce original scholarship that is recognized by peers as making a contribute to the field, and that can pass the test of peer review.

Now, let me back up remind ourselves of why I’m talking about this.

I’m trying to shed some light on why critical thinking textbooks written by philosophers and taught by philosophers, focus almost exclusively on principles of logic and argumentation and say very little about psychology or how persuasion works in the real world.

In some sense, I think all philosophy students are aware of this disconnect.

You just have to have the experience of going home after class and try to have a conversation with your parents or your friends about what you talked about in school, and see how quickly you can get people upset.

You know that principle that we learn, about not mistaking the argument for the person?

Well, in the real world most people feel quite the opposite.

If you criticize someone’s ideas, most people will interpret that as an attack on them.

Their shields go up, and they’ll assume a defensive posture.

They’re not going to thank you for pointing out the weaknesses in their position.

There isn’t a philosophy student alive who hasn’t had this experience, of walking into a conversation feeling like you’re going to help people work through an argument, like you do in class, and you end up making people mad at you.

So, given this reality that everyone in philosophy (and many people outside of philosophy) can relate to, why isn’t this discussed in the critical thinking textbooks, or in logic classes?

Why isn’t the psychology of belief and persuasion part of the discussion of what it means to give a persuasive argument?

Well, I think there are two reasons for this.

One has to do with what I talked about earlier, about the historical legacy of the Sophists, the suspicion that philosophers have about rhetoric, and their commitment to argumentation as a tool of philosophical reasoning.

But the primary reason, I think, has more to do with the socialization of students within academic philosophy, and the socialization of professional philosophers that I just described.

Let’s ask ourselves — what is the environment that teacher and students find themselves in, when studying philosophy?

It’s the controlled environment of the philosophy classroom, with all the conventions and expectations that come with it, that students are socialized into, starting from their first day in class.

In the classroom, principles operate that don’t operate outside of it.

In that space, everyone agrees that the goal of reading a text is to extract the argument and subject it to critical analysis, in accordance with certain rules about how that analysis should go.

In that space, we try hard to distinguish criticism of an argument from criticism of a person.

In that space, a failed argument is just as instructive as a successful one.

In that space, there’s agreement that what we’re trying to do, as a group, is ultimately to gain some wisdom on a topic that matters to us. It’s not to win arguments.

Which means that in that space, in the classroom, you can get away with saying things and doings that you could not reasonably expect to get away with in the world outside the classroom.

In this sense, I submit that the classroom is very much like the training hall of a traditional martial art.

These training halls are ritualized spaces … some might describe them as sacred spaces … where respect for the principles and goals of the martial art are built into the rules that govern the space.

There are rules for how to enter and exit these halls, what you’re allowed to wear, what you’re allowed to say, how you address the other students and your instructors.

In taekwondo, for example, you bow when you enter and bow when you leave. When you step on the matt you address one another as “sir” and “ma’am”. You raise your hand to ask a question. If you’re late you need to be given permission to join the group by the instructor, you can’t just walk in.

After any pair practice between students, you bow in a particular way and shake each other’s hand, and say “thank you sir” or “thank you ma’am”.

There are rules for safe training that everyone learns and must abide by, or they’re forced to leave.

I could go on, but you get the idea.

And most importantly, no one expects people outside the martial arts training hall — outside the dojo, the dojang, the kwoon, the akhara, whatever name you give it — no one expects the rules of the hall to apply outside the hall.

There’s no confusion about that.

The academic classroom is a ritualized space, just as much as the martial arts training hall.

The philosophy classroom is a particular kind of ritualized space, where the teacher establishes and enforces rules that express and reinforce the principles of the discipline.

That’s the space that I experienced as a philosophy student.

And here’s my point. In the classroom, because it is a ritualized space, as I said, you can get away with saying things and doings that you could not reasonably expect to get away with in the outside world.

Now, what does this have to do with how critical thinking texts are written?

What I’m saying is that these texts are written much like the official training manuals for a particular martial art.

What they teach you is the principles and practices of the martial art, within the idealized environment of the training hall, not the noisy public world outside the hall.

Critical thinking texts teach the principles of logic and argumentation that are the backbone of the Western philosophical tradition that emphasizes argumentation as tool for philosophical thinking.

In short, they’re teaching students what philosophical reasoning looks like, and how to do it.

But this is crucial — they’re teaching students what philosophical reasoning looks like, and how to do it, in a space where these principles will be shared and honored.

And it works, to the extent that one can successfully create this ritualized space where everyone agrees to follow the rules.

When you play a sport, you have to find a way to ensure that everyone follows the rules, or at least incentivize the players to follow the rules. Otherwise you can’t play the sport.

In the world of academia, the rules are built in to the social and professional structure of the academic discipline. I have to follow the rules if I want to keep my job, earn the respect of my peers and advance in my career.

In a classroom environment of a college or university philosophy program, the rules are established by the conventions of the discipline and by the leadership and example of the instructor.

With the right support in place, these rules are usually not hard to achieve or maintain.

But it’s not guaranteed. I’ve seen them break down.

If a class is really badly managed, it can break down. If there are ideologically motivated students in the class who are committed to challenging the rules and disrupting the environment, it can break down.

There’s a lesson here: a culture that respects the rules of philosophical debate and argumentation doesn’t happen on its own. It takes work and effort and vigilance, by a community, to maintain.

But in the wild world outside the classroom? At home, on the playground, at your work place, in the media, on the internet, on the streets, in the halls of government?

You can’t expect these rules to apply.

I can’t expect a stranger to honor the rules of rational argumentation any more than I can expect a guy strangling me in a street fight to automatically release his grip if I tap out.

So, getting back to these critical thinking texts, we need to ask some questions.

If it’s as obvious as I say it is, that these texts are inadequate to prepare students for how to argue persuasively in the wild, why doesn’t the field recognize this?

Why don’t textbook authors acknowledge that what they’re really teaching is an idealized form of intellectual debate, that only works within social environments that support these intellectual values?

Well, there are probably a number of different factors at play, but let must describe how I felt about teaching this material for many years, because I think it reflects how most philosophy instructors think about it.

I think we’re all just a little bit dazzled by the universality of what we study, and by the dream of universality.

I know I was, and I still am.

When you’re first learning the elements of argument analysis, it really does seem like you’re learning something that has universal scope and significance.

We start off giving a few examples of arguments, and then we quickly move to the general question — what do all arguments have in common, that makes them arguments?

And we give an answer — an argument is a collection of statements or propositions, one of which is singled out and called the conclusion, the others are called the premises; in which the premises are being offered as reasons to believe or accept the conclusion.

Then we dig deeper into the components of this definition. What is a proposition? How do propositions differ from other linguistic expressions? What does it mean to offer reasons. What does it mean to offer good reasons? And so on.

And when we start talking about fallacies of reasoning, these are framed as general patterns that show up everywhere that human beings communicate.

This is all so general, so abstract, that it’s easy to believe that it’s an ahistorical description of a universal feature of human reasoning, if not rationality itself.

In fact, it’s such a compelling notion that for long stretches of Western intellectual history, philosophers and theologians have assumed that the basic principles of logic are universal rules of rational thought, and that the universe itself, to the extent that it’s a rational, intelligible universe, should conform to these rules as well.

That’s what I would tell my students, trying to sell them on the philosophical significance of logic and argumentation, not just its practical usefulness.

And as a philosopher of science, I was also very aware that when I was teaching logic and argument analysis, I was setting up a conceptual framework that I would later use to talk about the logic of scientific reasoning, and how scientific inferences can be justified.

There’s a case to be made that modern science as we know it wouldn’t exist without this dream of universal reason animating it, and the logic of scientific reasoning driving the assessment of evidence and the acceptance and rejection of different scientific theories over time.

That was another way to sell this material to students — to show them how important these ideas were, what roles they placed, in the intellectual history of the West.

So as a philosophy teacher, I was perfectly comfortable teaching this material in the standard ways it had been taught, because I believed all of this.

And with some qualifications and caveats, I still believe it.

The study of argumentation, as a tool for philosophical reasoning, does tell us something universal about the nature of logic and rationality.

It does describe ideas that have had a huge influence on the intellectual history of the West, and on the birth of modern science.

And it does pave the way for a deeper understanding of modern developments in lots of different fields outside of philosophy, like mathematics, linguistics, computer science, artificial intelligence, and so on.

So, there’s a strong case for the educational value of learning logic and argumentation and critical thinking in the ways that this is traditionally taught.

And this is the reason why philosophy instructors are generally happy to teach this material in the way it’s been taught for so many years.

They’re not completely blind to the reality of how argumentation and persuasion works in the wild. They’re aware that the material may not be all that relevant outside the classroom.

But that was never the primary aim of teaching this material.

As philosophy instructors, we emphasize the value of teaching and learning this material independent of its effectiveness or ineffectiveness as a tool for rational persuasion.

Now, I believed all this, and I still believe it now.

But having said all that … it doesn’t change the fact that when it comes to understanding human reasoning and human nature, and how real people make judgments and decisions and respond to arguments, and how to be more effective at persuading people on the basis of reasons … the standard material on logic and argumentation is completely inadequate to the task.

Well I’ve gone a lot longer than I had intended to, so let me try to summarize that main take-away points from this episode.

The first is that historically there are two distinct approaches to the study of argumentation.

You can study it as form of persuasive speech, as a form of rhetoric; and you can study it as a tool of philosophical reasoning. Both are about persuasion, but the philosophical approach places its focus on persuasion for good reasons, rather than persuasion for its own sake.

The second point is that the philosophical approach to argumentation is genuinely effective only within an idealized social context where the norms of rational argumentation are respected and valued.

I tried to show how the culture of the philosophy classroom and the profession itself helps to create and reinforce this social context, and why it’s foolish to assume that the world outside the classroom will respect these rules.

And I drew an analogy with the ritualized spaces of the martial arts training hall, and how the rules and principles the martial art are embedded in these spaces, and enable students to practice the art in a supportive environment.

The philosophy classroom, in this sense, is like a dojo for training in the martial art of rational argumentation.

The third take-away point is that, even though the standard principles of rational argumentation aren’t really that helpful in understanding how argumentation and persuasion work in the wild, outside the classroom, they still have educational value and they’re still important to learn.

In particular, we need to appreciate the role they’ve played in the intellectual achievements of the West, and especially the critical spirit that animates scientific reasoning.

The main takeaway, for me, is that we need to appreciate just how much social support is needed to maintain and reinforce this critical spirit.

We reason best as members of a community that values and respect the principles of critical inquiry.

That community needs to be established and nurtured for individuals to thrive and learn and practice the principles that animate that community.

The classroom can function as such a community. Social institutions, like the institutional structure of science, or the judicial system, can help to create and maintain such communities, where certain rules of argumentation are taught and reinforced.

But argumentation in the public or private spheres outside of these intentional, ritualized communities, these sacred spaces, poses a real challenge.

You can’t make all of society your dojo.

That’s why when martial arts schools teach students practical self-defense, they approach it very differently from the way they normally teach the basic elements of the martial art.

In taekwondo you spend a lot of time learning how to kick to the head, but you would never teach that as a basic self-defense technique.

We can’t make all of society our dojo, but we can teach techniques that can make us better prepared for life on the street.

It’s time that critical thinking education did the same.

Thank you for listening, and I’ll see you next time on the Argument Ninja podcast.

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