Aristotle's notion of dialectic as a model for philosophical debate and inquiry

This week, we’ve had a new round of discussions on the ‘combative’ nature of philosophy as currently practiced and its implications, prompted by a remark in a column by Jonathan Wolff on the scarcity of women in the profession. (Recall the last wave of such discussions, then prompted by Rebecca Kukla’s 3AM interview.) Brian Leiter retorted that there’s nothing wrong with combativeness in philosophy (“Insofar as truth is at stake, combat seems the right posture!”). Chris Bertram in turn remarked that this is the case only if “there’s some good reason to believe that combat leads to truth more reliably than some alternative, more co-operative approach”, which he (apparently) does not think there is. Our own John Protevi pointed out the possible effects of individualized grading for the establishment of a competitive culture.

As I argued in a previous post on the topic some months ago, I am of the opinion that adversariality can have a productive, positive effect for philosophical inquiry, but not just any adversariality/combativeness. (In that post, I placed the discussion against the background of gender considerations; I will not do so here, even though there are obvious gender-related implications to be explored.) In fact, what I defend is a form of adversariality which combines adversariality/opposition with a form of cooperation.

 My historical inspiration for this model of philosophical debating and inquiry is ancient dialectic, or at least one particular version of ancient dialectic: the one found in Aristotle’s Topics, Book VIII in particular. True enough, on several occasions both in the Topics and in the Sophistical Refutations Aristotle also offers advice on how to ‘crush’ an opponent with ‘dirty tricks’ (e.g. how to confuse the answerer by asking for irrelevant premises, as discussed in VIII.1). But in VIII.5, Aristotle introduces a form of dialectical interaction that, according to him, has never been discussed in detail by his predecessors: “… dialectical meetings among people who engage in arguments not for the sake of competition, but for testing and inquiry.” (159a33-34)

Basically, what he means by ‘inquiry’, as becomes clear later in the text, is the exercise of unpacking what a given thesis implies/entails. This is accomplished by one of the participants adopting a thesis ‘for the sake of the argument’, and maintaining it against objections by a fair but tough opponent. This dialectical model requires a virtuous attitude from both participants; the common goal of inquiry will only be attained if both partake in the disputation in a virtuous way. “For it is not in the power of one participant alone to see that their common goal is well accomplished.” (161a20-22) However, in practice participants are not always virtuous interlocutors: 

There are times, then, when it is necessary to attack the speaker, not the thesis – when the answerer is particularly abusive and ready to pounce on the questioner with the contrary of whatever he asks for. By being cantankerous, then, these people make discussions competitive and not dialectical. (161a22-25)

The picture that emerges is of lower-level adversariality but higher-level cooperation. Adversariality occurs in the sense that each participant is not easily going to grant the thesis the opponent is defending, and thus will force him/her to offer solid arguments for it. Cooperation occurs in the sense that, given their common goal of inquiry, participants will perform to the best of their abilities and in a virtuous way. This also seems to be, at least in theory, the rationale for the adversarial justice system: defense and prosecution are defending opposite theses, but the higher goal of attaining justice is best served when each of the parties performs to the best of their abilities, and this has two aspects: to look for the best possible support for their theses, but also to engage in debating in a virtuous, non-cantankerous way.

Hence, it seems that a certain amount of adversariality, thus understood, is conducive to leading to truth, because it forces each participants to come up with the best possible defense for their views. (This idea is also grounded on the observation that human reasoners are highly prone to confirmation bias, i.e. to sticking to the beliefs they already hold. A great antidote to this tendency is people who disagree with you in a respectful and articulate way. Someone who already agrees with you is less likely to force you to sharpen your arguments.) But sheer adversariality and combativeness, besides being mighty annoying, is not conducive to truth, i.e. if an interlocutor wants to win the debate at all costs (as often seen at philosophy Q&A sessions…). These are the cantankerous people Aristotle talks about, and his suggestion is that one should simply refuse to engage in debates with such people.

In conclusion, I want to suggest that much in the discussions on whether philosophical inquiry should be combative or cooperative is based on the false dichotomy that a debate can only be either combative or cooperative. In other words, my suggestion is that it is precisely from the right combination between productive adversariality and cooperation towards a common goal that the best philosophical debates emerge. The age-old notion of dialectic still provides a very fruitful model for philosophical discussions and philosophical inquiry. Long live Aristotle!

(There is a whole debate in the secondary literature on Aristotle about the relations between dialectic and philosophy, which I am setting aside for the present purposes. Suffice it to say that I am of the opinion that the connections between dialectic and philosophy are tighter than some commentators seem to think, but not for the reasons defended by e.g. Owen. Also, I am told that Socrates says very similar things in the Gorgias, but I haven't had the time to check it out yet.)