This paper concerns the role of examples (paradeigmata) as propaedeutic to philosophical inquiry, in light of the methodological digression of Plato’s Statesman. Consistent with scholarship on Aristotle’s view of example, scholars of Plato’s work have privileged the logic of example over their rhetorical appeal to the soul of the learner. Following a small but significant trend in recent rhetorical scholarship that emphasizes the affective nature of examples, this essay assesses the psychagogic potential of paradeigmata, following the discussion of example in (...) Plato’s Statesman. I argue that, by creating an expectation for finding similarities, the use of examples in philosophical pedagogy cultivates in the soul of the learner a desire to discern the intelligible principles the ground experiential knowledge. Thus, examples not only serve as practice at the dialectician’s method of abstraction, but also cultivate a dialectical ethos, characterized by the desire to know the logoi of all things. (shrink)

For the past half-century, critical pedagogy has represented perhaps the most influential response to traditional ‘banking’ models of education and the political obedience and social conformity they are purported to engender. Precisely because of its lasting impact, however, it has tended to overshadow other possible visions of the critical political potential of education. In this article, I trace the origins and development of a distinctive yet under-discussed concept in Michel Foucault’s late ethical work – psychagogy – to pursue an (...) alternative depiction of education as a critical political practice. Attending to the origins and meaning of psychagogy in Foucault’s work is valuable, I argue, for two reasons. On the one hand, the concept offers a vision of political education that avoids reproducing problematic juridical binaries – truth and ideology, rationality and irrationality, absolved and condemned – that Foucault believed inhered in Enlightenment-era conceptions of emancipation. On the other hand, it demonstrates how political problems of our present might be rendered workable not only through recourse to the authoritative discourses of experts or collective demands of revolutionaries, but also through exercises in subjectivity formation that are rather more quotidian, experiential, and conditional in nature. (shrink)

Pierre Hadot's analysis of the role of ancient philosophical discourse in the formation of a philosophical self allows us to extend to the interpretation of Aristotle the counter-Heideggerian Platonic hermeneutics of Gadamer, Strauss and Klein. Central to Plato's and Aristotle's rhetorical/pedagogical strategy is the development of the language of theoria to formulate the goal of philosophical formation. ;Traditional meanings of theoria refer to attendance at public festivals and consultation of oracles. Plato first extends its meaning to express the vision of (...) timeless truths. However, he does not give theoria a single meaning intended to express the philosophical experience, but has Socrates employ it dialectically according to the characters and aspirations of diverse interlocutors. ;Aristotle gives the language of theoria a twofold development, systematically forging a language for acts of cognition while also reshaping the objects of his students' aspirations. In the Nicomachean Ethics , he exploits the aristocratic aspiration to preeminence that aims at rule, replacing the statesman with the philosopher as object of emulation. The language of theoria in the final chapters borrows grandeur from the objects that at this point wisdom is said to pursue, the stars and cosmos; as in the Republic, the human mind is said to enjoy godlike theoria. In his natural philosophy, Aristotle shifts the focus from stars to animals; theoria loses the grandeur it had in the Ethics and comes to express the thoughtful observation of the causes of natural phenomena. ;In the Metaphysics, Aristotle makes more explicit the ethics proper to the life of inquiry, based on the radical experience of aporia about the most fundamental questions of being and the shared attempt to formulate these questions and pursue answers within the Lyceum culture. It involves liberation from the admiration accorded the transcendently wise man and delivering oneself to wonder at the most puzzling questions. This dissolution of the emulous relationship between teacher and student entails the creation of a greater distance between human and diving thought; in the theology of Book Lambda, theoria refers only to human thought, which cannot attain the same perfection as divine noesis. (shrink)

I argue that the opening line of the _Phaedrus_ proleptically encapsulates the major themes of the dialogue and that paying attention to the opening line enables us to strengthen the identification of psychagogy as the key unifying thread of the whole dialogue. In particular, I argue that the opening line foreshadows the quarrel between Lysias and Socrates over the practical guidance of Phaedrus’ soul; the prominence of friendship in the philosophical form of life; the pertinence of Socrates’ one-on-one, custom-built (...) speeches, vis-à-vis the later conceptualization of rhetoric; the definition of the soul as a source of never-ending movement; as well as the origin (_arché_) and destiny (_télos_) of human souls, following the lines of the Palinode. (shrink)

From the older handbooks to the more recent scholarly literature, Gorgias's professions about his art are taken literally at their word: conjured up in all of these accounts is the image of a hearer irresistibly overwhelmed by Gorgias's apagogic and psychagogic persuasions. Gorgias's own description of his art, in effect, replaces our description of it. "His proofs... give the impression of ineluctability" . "Thus logos is almost an independent external power which forces the hearer to do its will" . "Incurably (...) deceptive," logos has an "enormous power" that acts upon opinion, which is "easy to change" . Surprisingly, the urge to describe or paraphrase Gorgias's art has caused commentators to overlook the very best witness of it that we have: its enactment, which is to say the performative value of Gorgias's writings, especially the speeches. For if Gorgias's literary remains do nothing else, they demonstrate how one can do things with words without being explicit about what is being done, even if this means contradicting, performatively, what is being said-as for instance in his statements, so unconvincingly made, about the ostensible aims of rhetoric. Was Gorgias persuasive in practice? Was persuasion even the goal? Is logos the solitary arbiter of reality that it is so often made out to be? Through close examination of Gorgias's Helen and parts of On Not-Being, I attempt to show that persuasion is manifestly not the goal of his arguments, which in the first instance are aporetic paradoxes that expose the difficulties of defining the nature of either language or reality, and which in the last instance are instruments of cultural demystification. The only deception at work in Gorgias's writings is that of the self-deception of their audience. It is this that gives these curiously revealing documents of fifth-century Greek culture their "dissuasive," not persuasive, character. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Politics and the Earthly City in Augustine's City of God by Veronica Roberts OgleAaron C. EbertPolitics and the Earthly City in Augustine's City of God by Veronica Roberts Ogle (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021), x + 201 pp.Politics is not a word in Augustine's lexicon—at least, it's not something he speaks of, in the abstract, in his great work of political theology, the City of God. This curious (...) omission from Augustine's late magnum opus et arduum has given rise to many a divergent reading of his political thought. Lacking an express account of the very term in question, his politics can seem to admit of a wide range of interpretations. On one side of the spectrum, it has been described as anticipating the religious neutrality of modern liberalism. On the other side, it has been interpreted as consolidating politics into religion by transposing political philosophy into the key of ecclesiology and making the Church the new realm of politics.1 In her elegantly written and insightful new book, which builds on the work of her 2014 dissertation at the University of Notre Dame and on a few published articles, Veronica Roberts Ogle charts a new interpretive path for reading Augustine on politics. She does this by means of two principal interventions.The first is by elucidating City of God's rhetorical purpose, what Ogle calls its "psychagogic character" (6). Psychagogy, "the art of leading [agô] souls [psychai] to a state of health," was the rhetorical aim and genre of much ancient philosophy (3). It took its cue from the philosopher's perception that his readers were sick with the disease of unhealthy attachment to the things of the world. Philosophers were physicians of the soul: they applied "the medicinal art of contraries" to their sick patients. This meant that their literary curatives often met patients/readers with the bitter taste of a poison (4). But—and this is the crucial point for Ogle—the poison was given for the purpose of health. What this means for Augustine's City of God, Ogle argues, is that we ought not take the work's biting and at-times-venomous rhetoric as evidence that Augustine is trying to poison his reader's vision of politics. Rather, he is trying to cure them of their attachment to the myths and delusions of politics-according-to-Rome and, instead, "to help us see the world, even the political world, anew: as part of a created order that is good, but that points beyond itself all the same" (4). Augustine's descriptions of Rome—indeed his frequent equations of Rome with the civitas [End Page 1426] terrena—are indeed meant to shock. But, so Ogle argues, they are meant to shock us out of destructive attachments so that we can learn to make the right attachments, first to Christ, and then, through Christ, to our earthly communities as pilgrims. City of God's pessimistic rhetoric is not Augustine simply denouncing the natural project of politics. It is a bitter medicine for a people deathly ill with an addiction to earthly glory.The second intervention of Ogle's book lies in its attention to what she calls City of God's "sacramental ethos" (5). This, I would argue, is the book's most important contribution. It is also the insight on which the heart of the book's argument depends. Sacraments, for Augustine, are signs that point us to God. Understood in this broad sense, the whole created order—that is, everything that is not God—has the quality of a sacrament by virtue of its very existence. This is connected closely to Augustine's understanding of evil as privatio boni: all that exists, to the extent that it exists, is good; and all that exists is, by nature, a sign (signum) pointing beyond itself to the Lord.These are not new insights into Augustine's doctrine of creation, but Ogle's application of them to the question of politics and the earthly city is suggestive. For what emerges is a new account of the relationship between politics and the earthly city. The whole created order... (shrink)

Pour procurer la délivrance en acquérant la connaissance juste, l’Inde ouvre des « voies » à la pensée. Elle emploie, à cet effet, des techniques ou des « psychagogies » en marge du donné naturel, créatrices de faits originaux. D’où ce paradoxe : une extension illimitée de l’expérience, malgré le caractère scolastique du savoir.

Use of rhetorical figures has been an element of persuasive speech at least since Gorgias of Leontini, for whom such deliberate deviations from ordinary literal language were a defining feature of what he called the ‘psychagogic art’. But must we consider figures of speech limited to an ornamental and merely stylistic function, as some ancient and still many modern theorists suggest? Not according to contemporary cognitive rhetoric, which proposes that figures of speech can play a fundamentally argumentative role in speech (...) by evoking a level of shared meaning between speaker and listener, and simultaneously by affording the possibility of reorganizing this common ground. This paper argues that, in Latin literature, zeugma—the ‘linking together’ of two elements with a third that is semantically compatible with only one of them—can and very often does operate argumentatively, and that it does so by surfacing figurative relationships that normally remain below the conscious awareness of Latin speakers and by imparting a certain structure to these relationships. What very often motivates the selection of elements within zeugma—and what makes zeugma more than simply a stylistic device—are in fact metaphorical structures that are highly conventionalized in Latin's semantic system. In tapping into symbolic associations that are deeply entrenched in the language and thought of Latin speakers, zeugma therefore provided a ready-made device for constructing arguments in context. (shrink)

In Plato’s early dialogues, the impossibility of talking to the crowd appears as a constitutive element of the opposition between rhetoric and dialectic and raises the understudied question of the role of the audience in Socratic thought. However, Xenophon’s Socrates constantly identifies public and private speech. But this likening is also found in the Alcibiades Major, which gives a key to understand the true meaning of this assimilation: one can convince an audience, by talking to each individual in the crowd. (...) The need to address each one implies an adaptation of language that can be found in the texts of different disciples of Socrates. The rhetorical aspects of the Phaedrus’ psychagogia should then be understood, not as a new Platonic concept which allows the good orator to address the many, but rather as a new for- mulation of a well-known and shared Socratic ideal. (shrink)

Both the itihāsa-s of the Mahābhārata and the Platonic philosophical ‘epode’ are often used to persuade in conditions where emotion threatens to incapacitate the person for argumentative discourse. Narrative reason has its own conditions of success and failure, opening up a discursive arena in which all kinds of utterances are welcome. Emphasizing the psychagogic function of the ‘once-upon-a-time’ reason, it is worth asking who the real protagonist of the story is and whether the story has a duty or a dharma (...) of its own to fulfill. Dharma and all the dilemmas it brings along with it constitute one of the fundamental problems that make up the whole Mahābhārata. In this essay I wonder about the dharma of the Mahābhārata itself—a literary work which gives itself the name ‘triumph’ (jaya)—and the cultural mission it fulfills in the lives of those who hear it, read it, study it, and share it with others. (shrink)

According to an old legend, during the Messenian Wars in Laconia in the 8th and 7th centuries BC, the Athenians sent the poet Tyrtaeus to the Spartans who were close to being defeated; he aroused in them the fighting spirit and renewed Spartan virtues. Philosophers in antiquity believed in the psychagogical power of the word, and this belief provided the foundation for ancient ethical literature, whose main purpose was to call for a spiritual transformation and to convert to philosophy. In (...) this paper, I would like to demonstrate what tradition philosophy referred to in these efforts; what concept of man supported that belief; finally, what literary genres were used by ancient philosophers in ethics. (shrink)

Much recent scholarship on Plato’ Crito has revolved around the controversy about the relationship and possible compatibility between the arguments Socrates gives in his own person (SocratesS) and those he gives in the person of the Laws (SocratesL). By contrast, the relation between the arguments given by SocratesL and those given by Crito continues to be seen as uncontroversial: by the end of the dialogue, commentators agree, Crito has no choice but to concede to the force of SocratesL’s arguments. Against (...) this traditional reading, this paper will argue not only that SocratesL’s arguments fail to secure Crito’s agreement, but also that two characters’ attempts to communicate end at an impasse that seems to leave little room for meaningful shared discourse –and may even undermine Crito’s belief in the possibility of meaningful speech. My interpretation is informed by Socrates’ account (at 49c9-e3) of the need for and nature of a “common ground” as a prerequisite for genuine dialogue. This passage, I argue, challenges the traditional analysis of Crito as the representative of a particular value system or a particular “type”, demanding, instead, a consideration of the effect of Socrates’ arguments upon Crito in light of a more robust view of the latter’s perspective. Such a reconsideration has consequences not only for our appreciation of the dramatic structure of the dialogue, but also for how we understand one of the dialogue’s central, if underexplored, themes: the belief in a shared logos and the psychagogic necessity and perils of testing that belief. (shrink)

From a new reading in Philodemus’ Index Academicorum (PHerc. 1021, col. XXXVI) emerges that Phanostratos, pupil of Charmadas, stems from the Carian city of Tralleis and enjoyed good reputation for psychagogy of masses, both hitherto unknown facts.

This small book explores the political thought of Lucretius, by analysing De rerum natura. Nichols does not move immediately to the last section of Book V, which discusses clearly political phenomena; rather he locates that section within the place it has in the entire poem. Writing in the Straussian tradition, Nichols analyses not only the sections of the poem relevant to the political enterprise, but discusses the form and movement of the poem as a whole. Chapter 1 asks how we (...) can take such an apparently antipolitical and antireligious tradition—the Epicurean—as serious political philosophy, answering that the Epicurean-Lucretian materialist atomism, and its consequences for our understanding of the whole of things, represents a fundamental philosophic alternative to the Socratic-idealist political tradition. The traditions agree, though, on the primacy of philosophy for genuine human fulfillment. Chapter 2 elucidates Lucretius’ non-Epicurean choice of a poetic medium for his philosophy. Nichols ties it both to the need for beauty to conceal Lucretius’ bitter doctrine of the whole of things until Epicurean philosophy can replace politics and religion, and also to poetry’s "psychagogic utility." These claims are often made of Plato’s use of poetry. It is thus unfortunate that Nichols does not discuss the differences and similarities between Plato’s and Lucretius’ use of poetry, because Plato’s political project, and hence his dramatic philosophical presentations, seems essential to his philosophy, whereas "The element of poetry does not arise naturally or automatically from the Epicurean doctrine." Chapter 3 describes the character of the poem as a whole. Nichols works through the development from the first two Epicurean metaphysical principles to the Lucretian teaching which opposes the fear of death and the chains of love. This teaching does not rest on the overcoming of false religious fears but rather on not attributing "something more than belongs to our mortal condition to oneself or to another." It is this thesis in its metaphysical, theological, and political dimensions that is the core of Nichols’ reading of Lucretius. Chapter 4 deals specifically with Lucretius’ political concerns. Its two themes are Lucretius’ evaluation of the development of current political society, and his response to the bitter truth about man’s relationship to a thoroughly nonteleological universe. Both themes are, to say the least, bleak. traces the "natural" development of political society out of primitive association and through pre-political life. While this development is "natural," and in a way mandated by human desires, Nichols is clear that "... the most striking aspect of Lucretius’ treatment of political society is his depreciation of political life... There is no indication that Lucretius thinks the city achieves any other good purpose". describes the tension between religion and politics, and philosophy. The former try to replace or control fears and excess desires by other fears and desires. "Only philosophy" "can purge a man’s heart of unnecessary desires and thus enable him to live well without fear...." Chapter 5 compares Lucretius with Hobbes, Montesquieu, and Rousseau: "... all three share a hopefulness for fundamental improvements in man’s lot that sets them apart from Lucretius...." Nichols’ book presents a consistent picture of Lucretius’ work as a whole, and of the interrelationship of themes in it which lie beyond the domain of politics.—J.R. (shrink)