A Postscript

Re-reading the proof sheets of this chapter, it occurred to me to remind the reader that a proposal like Mr Rorty's, contains within itself, together with the refusal of rational proof, an effective immunization against any attempt to refute it in the serenity of an academic discussion.

"Gradual inculcation" never comes face to face with arguments, but takes advantage of the reader/listener's moments of distraction to surreptitiously induce in him a mood change. Its modus argumentandi is neither the philosopher's nor even the rhetorician's, but that of the neurolinguistic programmer: it works below the threshold of consciousness, after inducing the victim to relax his defenses by means of nice conversation. 

Against this kind of action, the only possible defense is to face the enemy in the field he has chosen: that of psychological action. It is not the case, therefore, of arguing, but of unmasking–as in psychoanalysis.

During Mr. Rorty's stay in Brazil, I was shocked at his audience's inability to perceive the difference between argumentation and seduction: since Mr. Rorty himself admits there is no use in arguing, what could his apparent arguments be but a diversionist manoeuvre, a trompe l'oeil aimed at entertaining conscious attention while below and beyond any critical supervision, the gradual inculcator discretely manipulates the depths of the distracted audience's souls?

But what small-town girl would be foolish enough to try to rid herself of a seducer using polite sentences that would only lengthen the conversation? In order to repel the seducer it is necessary to definitely refuse him any sign of sympathy from the very beginning.

These days, one can plainly see the trend to prefer psychological influence over logical argumentation. Such people do not try to appeal to our reason, but to monopolize our attention. Prolonging interminably a conversation which even they do not acknowledge as leading to any intellectually valid results, they gradually involve us in its atmosphere, so that without ever having explicitly agreed with them, we suddenly find ourselves speaking their language, judging by their values, acting according to their rules.

Thus they obtain, above or below our superficial disagreement, our most complete obedience. The only way to oppose them is with overt manifestations of antipathy, so they will grasp that what separates us from them is not just some intellectual disagreement, but also an absolute moral rejection–that, in short, we don't like their conversation.

The thrust and tone of this analysis, and the book from which it is taken, is meant to be neither capricious nor malicious. Rather, its purpose has been prophylactic: to warn the reader about the seductions of relativistic language and the intellectuals who have built their careers using such trickery.         

This is the first of a series of commentaries from Professor de Carvalho we hope to offer in the coming months.

NOTES