Warning: Satire! If you are a beliver in the Roman Inquisition, do not read!

As Bizzell and Herzberg point out, in 1554, Thomas Wilson, a Protestant, fled a now Catholic England under Mary Tudor, and arrived in Padua, Italy. He was arrested and tortured by the Roman Inquisition, who claimed that his logic and rhetoric books were heretical. Here is a transcript (completely fabricated):

Grand Inquisitor: Question the first: What meaneth this title, "The Rule of Reason?" Doth it mean that the universe is ruled by reason, that reason is the sovereign of us all? or Dost thou hereby mean to supplant the rules that our God, the Lord Jesus, gave to us in his scripture?
Wilson (arms in iron cuffs, mouth bleeding): Neither, actually, it purporteth only to lay out the rules whereby one might use reason to...
Grand Inquisitor: ...to do the work of the devil?
Wilson: No, to construct arguments as well as to judge the arguments of others.
Grand Inquisitor: What are these rules?
Wilson: The most common rule is that an argument must be valid.
Grand Inquisitor: Which meaneth that it must be true?
Wilson: No, it meaneth only that the argument be well-formed. Indeed, two false propositions can be put together to form an argument that is valid.
Grand Inquisitor: How is this possible!
Wilson: For example: Let us assume the following: Proposition the first: Given, All ducks beeth squirrels. Proposition the second: Given, Any lizard beeth a duck.
Grand Inquisitor: False! No ducks be squirrels and no lizards be ducks! (Strikes him on the face with a whip.)
Wilson: Ouch. Aye, but even so...We conclude from these two statements, given, false though they be, that any lizard, since that given he be a duck and since that given all ducks beeth squireels, yea, therefore, that any said lizard beeth also a squirrel.
Grand Inquisitor: And thou dost call this false argument "valid"!
Wilson: Aye, marry, that do I. My rule of reason hath made it so.
Grand Inquisitor: Therefore dost thou claim to be able to use thy rule of reason and thereby to take two false statements...
Wilson: Aye.
Grand Inquisitor: And by means of these two ingredients, subject to your rule of reason, to yield a third statement...
Wilson: Aye.
Grand Inquisitor: and that this third statement, now rendered and pulled forth from your concoction, like to an alchemist pulling forth gold from a vat containing theretofore only quicksilver and lead, that beeth not true yet that beeth "valid."
Wilson: Aye.
Grand Inquisitor: Then do I liken this art, of taking two false statements and conjuring from them a third, "valid" statement, to be the work of the devil (slaps him on the face with the whip from the left side) and do charge you, as practitioner of this "rule of reason" (slaps him on the face with the whip from the right side) to be a minion of Satan. (slaps him on the face with the whip...twice, once from each direction)
Wilson: (pause)...Ow.

Quintilian on education

We spoke a lot last week about how so many of Quintilian's ideas on education were ahead of his time. His emphasis on encouraging students as well as organizing students according to age level and ability anticipate much of 20th century educational theory, even educational theory of the last 20 years. Nevertheless, let's not forget also that in many ways the Socratic method of several centuries before was more innovative than some other of Quintilian's ideas. I wasn't really able to get a real sense of any emphasis in Quintilian on getting students to think and create for themselves. Socrates, on the other hand, for all of his drawbacks, did at least challenge his students to think about definitions and concepts on their own (in those rare instances, anyway, when the method worked the way it should). The Socratic method has actually made a comeback in recent years in educational theory. I'm not trying to detract from Quintilian's contributions, only to point out that the Greeks and the philosophers had some innovative ideas along with the Sophists and Roman orators.

A cinematic enthymeme

I never watch TV, as in zero hours per week (I don't have a TV set, nor do I want one). So, I thought I'd analyze a cinematic enthymeme (rather than a commercial) that I encountered over the weekend. I watched the movie "Bridge On the River Kwai." When the Japanese commander of the POW camp, Colonel Saito, announces to the British prisoners that soldiers and officers alike will take part in the construction of the bridge, the British commanding officer, Colonel Nicholson (played by Alec Guiness), points out that the use of officers for manual labor is strictly forbidden by the Geneva convention. Therefore, Nicholson informs him, his officers will not be working on the bridge. Nicholson has made an appeal to logos relying on the following enthymeme:
claim: The British officers will not do manual labor.
reason: The Geneva code of warfare prohibits the use of officers for manual prison labor.
unstated premises: 1) The Geneva codes contains all and only those "rules of war" necessary and sufficient for conducting a war in the most humane way possible. 2) Any commanding officer would surely see that the humane execution of a war takes precedence over any short-term material consequences such as getting a bridge built.
The enthymeme makes use of one of Aristotle's "common" topics, namely, number 11 (on page 229): Argument founded upon some decision already pronounced, whether on the same subject or one like or contrary to it. The unstated premise of the enthymeme is basedon probability rather than a sign.
Unfortunately for Nicholson, Saito may or may not accept the first unstated premise about the Geneva code being humane, but rejects the second. He thus presents his own counterargument in the form of his seizing the pamphlet containing the code out of Nicholson's hand, slapping Nicholson in the face with it, and throwing it on the ground.