Rhetorical Recalcitrance

Two editorials in the New York Times have got me thinking about "rhetorical recalcitrance" or, in other words, the stubborn resistance of arguments that seem like they'd be easy to refute.

In "Final Period," Karen Houppert discusses a new birth control pill that eliminates periods completely, linking it to the recalcitrant argument that women are somehow physically and mentally debilitated by their periods. This argument has emerged periodically throughout the last 100 years (and more), and is generally trotted out any time women seek more rights or to enter into spaces from which they were previously excluded. In my research on women scientists during World War II I found an article by psychologist Georgene Seward, called "Psychological Effects of the Menstrual Cycle on Women Worker" (published in the Psychological Bulletin in 1944) in which she smashes previous arguments against women workers that were based on menstrual debility. She notes that women who got more exercise and worked more actually had fewer premenstrual symptoms, suggesting that PMS and related infirmities had more to do with culture than biology. Yet we still get the message that women are somehow weakened by menstruation and that, thanks to modern pharmaceuticals, we can just avoid menstruation all together.

Similarly, Paul Krugman argues that "the opponents of universal health care appear to have run out of honest arguments." While I wish this were the case, even Krugman cannot magically vanquish all arguments against universal health care by fiat. I'm sure that they will continue to circulate as the debate continues, with opponents offering the same objections they've been offering for years: universal health care = higher taxes, longer waits, etc.

What accounts for "rhetorical recalcitrance"? It doesn't seem to have much to do with logic, that's for sure, but it does have a lot to do with the values, beliefs, habits, and customs that give certain arguments a kind of "rightness" or "appropriateness" to audiences. Plus, these resistant arguments tend to have a lot of backing from economic interests.

On an unrelated note, from a NYT Editorial on Conrad Black: "there is nothing so frighteningly passive-aggressive as a well-irked Canadian."Also, with regards to Canadian Exceptionalism: "In Canada, any disagreement with the United States is typically cast in David and Goliath terms, with the Canadians as beleaguered underdogs and the Americans as rapacious swindlers (see: soft wood lumber, treaties regarding)."

Canadian Exceptionalism

Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper suggests that Canada offers a "unique style of leadership" that is somehow a "third way" between American (i.e. neo-liberal, WTO and World Bank driven) policy and left-wing, "regressive," anti-American approaches in Latin America. This is pretty good example of the rhetorical trope of "Canadian Exceptionalism":

"Canada is an open, free and democratic society with the strongest economy in the G8 today, while also being a proud and independent country with our own way of life. Canada's political structures differ substantially from those in the United States. Our cultural values and social models have also been shaped by unique forces and we've made our own policy choices to meet our own needs."

As is often the case in Canadian rhetoric, the primary function is differentiation from the United States. Maybe I'm being cynical, but I'm really not sure how this "third way" is all that different from the American approach, unless Harper is assuring Chileans that they can still sell and market whatever their equivalents are to Canadian bacon, stuffed moose dressed up as Mounties, and mass produced "First Nations" artwork.

Friendemies and Agon

I'm not a tennis fan and I don't really know much about the game, but yesterday's match between Federer and Nadal seem to me like a pretty good example of agon. A match between two really good opponents seems to elevate both players' games. and ultimately has beneficial effects. Granted, Federer still wore his flashy white suit after winning, but even he seemed somewhat humbled afterwards. This is why Federer and Nadal are friendemies. When we talk about rhetoric and agon and athletics and kairos and pedagogy (along with people like Debbie and Chris) This seems to be precisely the kind of relationship that is at stake.

I can definitely attest to the pedagogical value of the friendemy relationship. When I was younger I had a ballet friendemy, Laura. We were both around the same skill level, but we were the most advanced students at our school, at the time. Since we were closely matched, talent-wise, we ended up pushing each other to improve. If she got something down before I did, I'd work extra hard to perfect it, and vice versa. Here's the thing about friendemyship, though: it's entirely unspoken. Laura and I hung out and never said anything to each other that so much as implied a rivalry, or jealousy, or anything like that. I don't know much about Nadal and Federer but it seems like they have a similar relationship--friendly on the outside, with a bit of enemy on the inside. But it's the kind of relationship that can be difficult to inculcate, deliberately. The Williams sisters probably had a built-in agon relationship, given their closeness in age and skill. In fact sibling relationships are ideal for this kind of thing. But it's not like you can just put any two people together and expect the same kind of relationship to emerge. It seems to require proximity and time, two things we can't automatically engineer in a classroom setting.

As an aside, if I were Nadal I think I'd have a little bit more enemy feelings on the inside because of Federer's self-presentation. The guy had a colour-coordinated ensemble, which included white pants and jacket, and the following items with gold detailing (to match the championship cup): shirt, sweater-vest (or golf shirt? couldn't tell), white bag (with four gold medallions symbolizing each of his Wimbledon championships), and shoes (also with gold medallions). Of course, Barbie has nothing against colour-coordination and I'm sure there's a Tennis Barbie out there with a similar ensemble. Maybe they can model a Tennis Ken doll after Federer. I'm sure he'd appreciate the opportunity for one more endorsement deal, wouldn't he?

I had an interesting conversation last night with a friend who is an American living in Canada, about the state of rhetorical affairs in our respective countries. I was telling him about one of the RSA Institute presentations we heard, from Nan Johnson, about the Gettysburg Address and how it has come to stand as the exemplar of American oratory. Yet I can't think of a single item of Canadian rhetoric that has had nearly that level of influence--i.e. people can quote from it, learn to recite it at school, etc. The only thing that comes close, in my opinion, is the poem In Flanders Fields by John McCrae, which we all head to memorize and recite on Remembrance Day. Or, more recently, "The Rant, " which was from a commerical for Molson Canadian (and, we decided, is an exemplar of an epideictic refutationtm).

To explain this phenomenon, we generated the following hypotheses:

1) A revolutionary country requires an early investment in producing national identity through rhetoric, while a country that gradually weans itself away from the great mothership has less of a need to do so, (until it is struck by its own identity crisis much much later in the 1970s.)

2) In America, rhetorical displays of patriotism are produced and driven by the market (see "Proud to Be an American," etc.) I guess that's the true definition of freedom--no one has to force you to produce patriotic pap for the radio; it just naturally arises from the patriotic spirit of the nation. Or something. In Canada, the market does not naturally produce rhetorical displays of patriotism. At least not in song. It didn't even produce many good singers until the CANCON rules were inaugurated. So these have to be commissioned by the government, as was the case when the government sponsored a contest for a song to commemorate the 125th anniversary of confederation in 1992. The song sucked, not surprisingly.

Apparently Canada has a long list of patriotic songs, including these:

At The Canada Jubilee
Bells of Canada
Canada, Land of the Maple Tree
Canada in My Pocket
The Canadian Boat Song
Canadian Folk 'Overture'
The Canadian Girl
Canadian Man
Drink Canada Dry
Hockey Night in Canada Theme
Sweet, Sweet Canada
Un Canadien Errant (A Wandering Canadian)
Young Man From Canada

Aside from "Oh Canada" and "God Save the Queen" (which really isn't about Canada) and "Hockey Night in Canada" (which as far as I know has no words), I haven't heard of any of them. And I'll bet most of these were commissioned for various milestones in Canadian history.

3) Canada defines it self in contradistinction to the United States, and you can't wax poetic (or rhetorical) about a lack.

*****

In case you were wondering, here's more about Canadian Girls in Training:

World War II didn't start the uniform trend for women. Far from it. But the pseudo-military uniform, outside of wartime, was usually meant for girls and teenagers who were encouraged to join clubs and training groups, I think. I belonged to Explorers and then to Canadian Girls in Training. Both were kind of nautical-themed. In Explorers, we had to wear a white blouse onto which we sewed these different badges. I think you had to get six of them, for things like memorizing the Explorer creed or what have you. Then you could move up to CGIT, where you got to wear a sailor blouse called a middy (see left). The uniform also entailed a "lanyard," which I think was some kind of white rope thingy. I forget. The whole point of these organizations was to emulate the premier group, the Girl Guides, who were in turn emulating either the American Girl Scouts or the British Girl Guides. I wanted to be a Brownie (precursor to Girl Guide), in part because they had a cute brown uniform that they got to wear to school on Remembrance Day. We didn't wear our Explorer uniforms on Remembrance Day.

Aside: The whole episode is kind of representative of my childhood. Whenever I asked for something, my mom would give me a reasonable facsimile, which she thought was better. But I just wanted the original. So, for instance, I wanted a Mr. Potatohead and asked for one for 7 consecutive Christmases. Instead, I got this kind of dumpy, flat, pear shaped plastic thingy that came with a bunch of different Colorforms for hair, eyes, and clothing. Not the same as a Mr. Potatohead. I'm not knocking Colorforms or anything, though. In fact, if I had this set I'd probably still play with it. It's very mod.

Where Have All the Uniforms Gone? (Long Time Passing)

I'm working on an article... or chapter... or something about the body of the woman worker during World War II. I've been looking at books and pamphlets and newspaper stories about a) women's physical capabilities (as described by those seeking to constitute them as suitable for war work) and b) women's uniforms/clothing for war work. Part of getting women into the war effort, it seems, was giving them stylish uniforms to wear for such duties as driving a bus or acting as an Army Emergency Relief person. For example, the female bus driver got to wear the above ensemble, designed by couturier Helen Cookman. This entailed, according to a New York Times description, both a "slim, fly-front, flared skirt" and "matching knee-length shorts." You can't really tell from the picture, but I guess this means it was a skort. Kind of a fashion faux pas, if you ask me, but maybe it was functional for driving a bus.

The Army Emergency Relief uniform sounds a lot nicer: "a fawn-colored skirt topped by a cocoa-colored tailored jacket with double-breasted slanting pockets," along with "a crepe blouse in beige with a Peter Pan collar." Of course, this descriptive language masks the fact that you'd actually be clothed entirely in brown. Trust me, the effect is not that attractive, which you would know if, like me, your family was famous for a group portrait of all five children wearing identical bowl haircuts and brown outfits, on a brown backdrop. I'll post it if I get the chance to scan it in.

At any rate, reading these descriptions kind of makes me wish more people got to wear snappy skirt suited uniforms these days. Aside from flight attendants, it seems to me that most of the uniforms people wear today have been designed from a kind of unisex perspective. Think of the postal worker, for instance. Or the UPS driver. Every once in a while you'll hear about some fashion designer creating a line of uniforms for hospital workers or something. (Or for postal workers, which they did on Project Runway.) But these never get adopted. And the uniform has mostly become a marker of the service profession, so that many of us never get to wear one. Unless you count the ballet uniform I had to wear for exams (which in the early days was a pastel little dress, with white ankle socks, and later turned into a scratchy nylon v-neck leotard provided by my teacher) or the faux sailor-suit I wore for Canadian Girls In Training (yes, it's a real group), I've never had the honour of wearing one. I wouldn't mind if we had some kind of professor uniform to wear on occasion. Not the academic regalia, though, because that is a) horrifyingly fugorific and b) not very figure flattering. I'm thinking more of some kind of skirt suit, maybe in tweed, with a cool badge to indicate your area of expertise. Skort optional.