Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Ethos, Pathos, and Logos

As we learned in class, each person has a personal preference as to how to conduct a protest.  However, no matter the method, the modes remain the same – appealing to pathos, ethos, and logos.

 

Fannie Lou Hamer primarily used ethos to fuel her speech to the Credentials Committee of the Democratic National Convention.  She began by giving her address, a move that established her existence as an everyday person regardless of the color of her skin.  By telling her story with concrete details and exact dialogue, Hamer proved her trustworthiness as a witness to and victim of racial discrimination.  Her argument for equality works because she came individually to the meeting instead of in a crowd.  The politicians could not shrug her off like they could the large groups of black protesters - denying one person her freedom is much more difficult than denying an entire race.  While Hamer's entire speech worked to establish her ethos, she simultaneously appealed to pathos with the details of her ordeal.  She trusted in the human nature to empathize with victims of violence and thus emotionally charged her audience while using simple diction.

 

Stokely Carmichael took a different approach in his speech at the University of California at Berkeley.  While he developed his ethos by indicating the work he had done with the SNCC, he also developed it by his sense of humor, however dry.  Using humor in a speech can relax the audience and remind listeners that the speaker is intelligent and socially aware.  However, his humor evolved as his speech developed to become more cynical and, in a way, this humor alone is a form of protest.  When Carmichael called President Johnson a buffoon, for instance, he appealed to pathos by invigorating the crowd with dislike for the current administration.  In fact, most of the applause throughout Carmichael's speech is a result of his impassioned statements.  Although Carmichael never attempts to get his audience to sympathize for him, he does incite them to action by creating feelings within them.  This point, however, ties in to Carmichael's appeal to logos, such as in the section of his speech where he argues that all civil rights laws were made for white people.  He develops this segment using logic (black people know they have equal rights and white people need the law to understand that) and then ends it with humor that appeals to pathos.  He somewhat taunts the audience with his statement, "If you believe in integration then we're going to start adopting us some white people to live in our neighborhood."

 

The civil rights protestors who sat in at the diners had yet a different approach to their protest.  Their protest had no words (other than the marches when signs were used) so their rhetorical appeal had to come from almost purely ethos.  By using nonviolent methods, the protesters were able to portray their intelligence and rationalism to the world.  However, once they were oppressed and abused by the white activists, audiences around the country began to feel for the students.  In effect, the white activists inadvertently created an appeal to pathos for the opposing side.

 

Personally, I do not feel as if there is any one rhetorical appeal that dominates all of the examples.  Logos, pathos, and ethos all relate to one another in such a way that one can argue that all three are present in a single sentence.  However, I believe that if one wanted to persuade me on any general subject, he or she should use logos and pathos arguments, pathos first to make me want to get more information and then logos to spur me to action.  Appeals to pathos only remain in the consciousness for so long – the public is notorious for obsessing over certain hot topics when the emotions are ripe and then forgetting it ever occurred just as quickly.  Yet if someone becomes informed on an issue instead of jumping on the emotional bandwagon, he or she is more likely to remain active for long periods of time.  While ethos is still important to me, I am more strongly affected by pathos and logos.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Belief

I believe in birdcalls and grasshopper serenades on dew-filled mornings.  I believe that peace comes from contentment but that few people are content.  I believe in John Lennon more than I believe in the Beatles and that the British royal family is overrated.  I believe in tea more than I believe in coffee and in Macs more than in PCs.  I believe in tofu, mismatched socks, and bamboo.  I believe in a woman's right to choose and a child's right to live.  I believe living 21 floors above the ground makes you miss the earth beneath your fingernails.  I believe sex can be love, lust, or art.  I believe the Dalai Lama is my brother and that George W. Bush is not my president. I believe that there can only be legal downloads.  I believe we reincarnate, sometimes only as the smell after the rain.  I believe in baby bottoms, short hair, and crow's feet.  I believe nature is not my mother but myself.  I believe musical instruments have souls and that the cello has the same color aura as I do.  I believe in indie films, late night IHOP runs, and indoor plants. I believe in no kind of marriage but in all kinds of love.  I believe happiness is life.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

The Nature of Protest

My version of protest differs from the mainstream view of picket lines and boycotts, hunger strikes and rallies. While I do believe those examples are instances of protest in visible action, I consider the most important form of protest to be the variety that lies in the individual and his or her mentality on life and society. To make a change in society, one must first protest the status quo within his or her mind. Without this seed, visible dissent, the hunger strikes and picket lines, would cease to exist.

I understand that my judgment on protest is a bit impaired because of my personal life. I grew up in a very conservative (and very Christian) household with parents who were (and still are) the kind who mark “moral values” as the prime issue on their exit poll surveys. For many years I believed in everything they believed and placed myself on the right side of the political spectrum, just a bit left of Bill O’Reilly and Ann Coulter.

This is shocking to the people who know me. After all, I’m a tree-hugging vegetarian hippie who plans to join the Peace Corps after graduation – nothing like the middle-school Laura who could recite lengthy Bible passages and spoke of the ills of abortion for the semester final in speech class. What transformed me was the music of political punk/rock bands like Refused and System of a Down. (I guess those of the religious persuasion are correct when they say that punk leads you away from the straight and narrow!)

When I first discovered this genre, I was both appalled and intrigued. I was a bit tentative about the common use of profanity but felt that the overall message was too important to ignore because of some silly four-lettered words. Listening to “New Noise” by Refused activated a passion within me that was stronger than anything I had ever felt before, a passion that surpassed my selfishness and drew me toward fighting for positive change.

I’ve since moved on from punk and rock to more of an indie style in music, but I still find those songs that play to my passion for protest. I got chills when Connor Oberst sang “When the President Talks to God” on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and fell even more in love with Arcade Fire when their lyrics on Neon Bible spoke against the current state of affairs in America. But throughout my transformation (I won’t say evolution because I still respect those who believe differently than I), the constant spirit of dissent has remained the single most powerful force in my life. This is why I champion personal protest over group protest – anyone can wave a flag and cheer in a crowd, but it takes a discerning mind to believe wholeheartedly in a position.

A protest is, therefore, much more than organizing rallies at the State Capital or passing out leaflets at the West Mall. It is an intangible force within the individual that desires change.