Give Me Liberty

Title: Give Me Liberty
Speech By: Patrick Henry
Date: March 23, 1775
Location: St. John’s Church - Richmond, Virginia
Occasion: Resolution to arm the militia

Analysis:
One of the problems with this, like Socrates’ Apology, is that they were actually recorded long after the speaker’s demise. Plato is the actual author of Apology. There was no court reporter to take it all down verbatim. One can easily imagine Plato and a group of fellow philosophers musing after all was over, goblets of wine in hand, “Boy, that Socrates sure gave one hell of a last speech. We ought to write that down. Do you remember what he said exactly?”

This, Henry’s most famous speech, was reconstructed from listeners’ memories 15 years after his death - and 40 years after he gave it!

That could well explain such seemingly prescient phrases as: “The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field!” With the battle of Lexington and Concord still a month away, it’s either a remarkably accurate prediction, or, perhaps, a case of convenient memory.

Still, there is no doubt Henry was one of the most powerful speakers of his time. There is also little doubt this speech was memorable enough to make a lasting impression on those who heard it.

It is a speech rich in classical allusions - “I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.” Can you see Henry as the successor to Diogenes? This time, not seeking an honest man, but the lessons of experience, and meeting with far greater success.

It is equally rich in Biblical allusions - “Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss.” In so doing, he was addressing his audience in terms with which they were intimately familiar. In other words, he was establishing that vital element by which to capture the attention of his listeners, audience identification.

He also resorts to one of the other elements that make an effective speech - repetition of one word to help his audience follow the points he wants to make. In this case “We” is the operative word. “Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned -- we have remonstrated -- we have supplicated -- we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament.”

Later, he resorts to the same device using a different word - “Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature has placed in our power.”

Finally, he concludes with a stirring call to action - “Forbid it, Almighty God! -- I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”

It is a rallying cry virtually every American schoolchild can recite. That stirring conclusion alone makes this speech worthy of inclusion in the Top Ten speeches of all time.

Text Posted: National Center for Public Policy Research
Words: 1018

From The Bully Pulpit - Tom

Enchanting the Soul

Columnist Mark Bowden, writing recently on the power of oratory, said: “The real work of rhetoric is to explain and persuade.” All right, that’s hard to argue with, but it describes many uses of words. It describes, for instance, a dry, passionless legal brief.  It even encompasses the police officer’s citation which may have necessitated that legal brief.

Words which merely “explain and persuade” do not necessarily constitute rhetoric. For our purposes, the definition of  rhetoric must meet a higher standard.

If, as Plato described it, rhetoric is the “art of enchanting the soul,” how does that enchantment take place? What is the source of the magic that casts such a spell on a listener? What happy constellation of words constitutes rhetoric?

Rhetoric, at its best, involves the ability to create striking mental images using words.

People no longer crowd close into a stone paved Agora, as in Plato’s day, straining to get within earshot of a speaker. Today, sound systems guarantee everyone can hear what is said.  Still, the power to enchant a listener’s soul is not subordinate to the advances of technology. It is, as it ever was, a force lodged in the writer and speaker.

Even in a world where speeches can be accompanied by power point presentations, or photos projected on a screen to provide illustration, rhetoric - that happy combination of words - still offers the highest power to create and sustain the enchantment which can possess our souls.

Take the image projected in President Kennedy’s inaugural address: “The torch has been passed, to a new generation ... ” It evokes an image of one of Plato’s contemporaries, an ancient Greek runner - Phedipiddes perhaps - arm outstretched, handing off a torch on its journey to the Olympic games.

That the passing of the Olympic torch is a modern invention, first used to open the 1936 Berlin Olympics, matters not. In fact, it demonstrates the power of Kennedy’s rhetoric, to create a mental image of a scene that never existed.

Or, take the way Lincoln chose to begin the Gettysburg address: “Four score and seven years ago, ...” Any number of reviewers have observed that using the number “eighty seven” would have been a far clearer way to communicate the time span of which he was speaking. But Lincoln’s intent was to create a Biblical image for his audience, to remind them their nation was engaged in a noble, even holy, crusade.

There is no precise formula to define what constitutes rhetoric and what does not. Nor is there one which describes how to create it or how not to. In that sense, it is much like Justice Potter Stewart’s definition of pornography - “I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it,” (Jacobellis v. Ohio - 1964).

But, just because we can’t define it, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t seek it. After all, the Grail for which we, as speech writers and listeners alike, must quest, is nothing short of an enchanted soul.

From The Bully Pulpit - Tom

Elements - Rhetoric

What is the difference between rhetoric, and plain old  words? In one sense - it is akin to asking the difference between the cement blocks that support your house, and the foundation. You simply don’t have a foundation without those blocks. Yet, they are not the same thing. Just as the foundation is so much more than the individual blocks of which it is comprised, so, too, rhetoric is far more than the individual words of  which it is composed.

It is a term descended to us from the ancient Greeks, to whom it meant “the art of oratory.” Plato called it “the art of enchanting the soul.”

Merriam-Webster defines it as: “the art of speaking or writing effectively.”

“Effectively” is the key word in that definition. It doesn’t mean using multi-syllabic language in order to sound impressive. Certainly, that approach does not hold the key to enchanting the soul.

Nor does it mean speaking at great length. In fact, brevity and effective rhetoric are naturally compatible, because well-crafted rhetoric, generally requires fewer words than less carefully structured language.

Keep in mind the featured speaker at the dedication of the Gettysburg cemetery was Edward Everett, former President of Harvard, and a nationally-known orator. He spoke for a little over two hours. The speaker who followed him, a lanky fellow named Lincoln, spoke for little more than two minutes.

Everett himself recognized the effectiveness of Lincoln’s spare approach to his remarks. In a note to the President the next day, Everett wrote, “I should be glad, if I could flatter myself that I came as near to the central idea of the occasion, in two hours, as you did in two minutes.”

Judging by whose address is best remembered today, Everett’s assessment proved prophetic.

So what makes a particular combination of words effective enough to be classified as rhetoric?

In one sense, crafting a speech using effective rhetoric is much like the sculptor Francois-Auguste Rodin’s description of how to carve a statue - “I choose a block of marble and chop off whatever I don’t need.”

Like chopping pieces off a marble block, eliminating extraneous, unnecessary words, is vital to the formation of rhetoric. There are words whose presence detracts from the whole. Articles in particular, words such as “the,” and “that,” are needlessly tedious elements of language.

Tedium is to rhetoric, what extraneous chunks of marble are to a statue.

When a speech I am writing is finished, I return to the work and ruthlessly excise as many articles, and as much other extraneous verbiage as possible, without risking the ability of the audience to comprehend what is said. The maxim of Thomas Jefferson, who was a lousy public speaker, but a more than passable writer, is instructive here: “Never use two words, when one will do.”

There is far more to be said on rhetoric. Entire college courses are devoted to the subject. But it is best to digest this first offering on the subject.

We are approaching the season of important public speeches - the State of the State, and the State of the Union. As you listen to them this year, I hope you will keep in mind the elements of speech writing, and whether they have been effectively used.

From The Bully Pulpit - Tom

Elements - Structure

It seems so simple. A speech needs structure to hold it together, in the same way a railroad track needs ties and rails and spikes to hold it together.

There are three basic elements to the structure of any speech: an Introduction, the main Body, and the Conclusion. To those, might be legitimately added another, preliminary element -  the Preamble.

That fourth element is optional, however. It can be useful for establishing audience identification with the speaker, and for acknowledging other participants at an event. But it might not always be appropriate, and is certainly not essential.

Let’s consider the three essential elements that make up the framework of our speech:

Introduction - This sets up the premise or the theme that will be examined in the body of the speech. It’s also the part where, if you haven’t employed a preamble, you seek to establish that essential ingredient - shared identity with the audience.

Body - This is the main part of the speech. It’s where the arguments, or the justifications for the main premise of the speech are developed. This is where the factual bases for the premise are provided. Any statistics - and they should be used sparingly, to avoid confusing the audience - are provided here. The arguments in support of the premise are made here.

Conclusion - It’s where the whole thing is summed up. If there is a call to action - here is where it is  issued. If a stirring tribute, it is this point where the emotions of the audience should be most affected.

Let’s take another look at the speech we analyzed recently - Secretary of State Clinton’s address before the Council on Foreign Relations. How does it match the framework we’ve just defined?

The first paragraph, with its rather oblique reference to “the mother ship in New York,” is certainly a preamble. It is a beginning and certainly seeks to share some “inside humor.” Unfortunately, no one laughed.

As for the Introduction, it is less than a clear statement of principles, premise, or even promise:
“And with more states facing common challenges, we have the chance, and a profound responsibility, to exercise American leadership to solve problems in concert with others. That is the heart of America’s mission in the world today.”
That’s hardly a statement like Winston Churchill’s famous speech at Westminster college:
“The United States stands at this time at the pinnacle of world power. It is a solemn moment for the American democracy. For with this primacy in power is also joined an awe-inspiring accountability to the future.”
His “Iron Curtain” speech is an appropriate contrast here, because it also has foreign relations as its topic.

The Body of Secretary Clinton's speech suffers from this initial lack of a clear introductory statement. It continues with an equal lack of clarity. While much is said, it is difficult to follow any clear, logical, path of reasoning.

It is a series of successive paragraphs, each offering something, but they don’t go anywhere. They don’t tie things together into a complete, comprehensible whole. These paragraphs use none of the classic rhetorical devices, such as repetition, to help the audience follow what is being said. Nothing stands out.

Again the contrast is with Churchill:
“From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic an iron curtain has descended across the Continent.”
With that one line, he coined a phrase that still resonates today.

Finally, her Conclusion. The final line is:
“Now all we have to do is deliver. Thank you all very much.”
It does nothing to inspire others on to action, to sum up the information in the speech, or to lay out a course of action the speaker intends to pursue.

In the end, a speech without a clear structure is like riding in a train that’s come off the track. You’ve still got an engine - but you won’t be going anywhere.

From The Bully Pulpit - Tom

Elements - Audience Identification

Ever hear a politician speak to a room full of people - and spend the whole time expounding on the ninth letter of the alphabet? You know - “I did this, I did that, I made this happen?”

In my line of work, it’s an occupational hazard.

The danger with expounding on the ninth letter of the alphabet this way, is that the interest of the audience quickly evaporates. An audience wants to have some kind of shared connection with the speaker they are listening to. A successful speaker needs to establish “audience identification.” In other words, the speaker has to find a way to get the audience to identify with the speaker, or at the very least, with what is being said.

Repeatedly saying “I,” quickly erodes that identification. That repeated word soon becomes the focus of audience attention.

At the same time, the audience also wants to hear what the politician is doing for them, or, depending on your point of view, doing to them. They expect to hear what’s going on. It’s the fundamental basis of democracy. Voters make up their mind on who they will support in the next election, based on what they know about what has happened in the recent past.

This is a serious conundrum for our political speaker. Credit has to be taken for what is going right. Yet, taking too much of the credit, or worse, taking it in the wrong manner, is a sure-fire formula for losing audience attention and, thus, not getting the credit you deserve anyway.

There is a way around this for the wise political speaker. Instead of saying - “I got such and such a program enacted,” look for an opportunity to involve the audience.

How about - “Mrs. Mary Jones wrote a letter to my office.” Right away, the audience is involved, it’s a story, and it involves an average citizen - someone just like them. Perhaps people in the audience actually know Mary Jones. Perhaps she’s even there that night - in which case, the wise politician has her stand to be recognized, then goes on. “She asked why there wasn’t a program to do such and such. It was a good question, and no one we contacted in government had a good answer. Today, we have that program!”

Without ever saying the words “I or me,” and using “my” only once, our wise politician has made the audience understand that because Mary Jones came to his office with her problem, the program to solve that problem is now up and running.

Working together is a great way to maintain audience identification. A real-life example of it, is even better.

It’s probably not wise, or even possible in most cases, for a speaker to totally avoid using the first person. But over-use is a recipe for disaster.


From The Bully Pulpit - Tom

Elements - Moving Gingerly

It’s an expression we all use - “I’m moving gingerly.” It may even bring to mind an image of how you were the day after you started playing tennis again - after years away from the sport.

There is, despite its familiarity, a mysterious aspect to the phrase.

What does ginger have to do with it? Is ginger a solution to the problem? If not, why do we say moving gingerly?

Even without knowing the answers, it is easy to see that this, like so many other phrases we commonly use, is there to help us communicate.

The use of this phrase in the English language can be documented at least back to 1607 - the same year the first permanent English settlement in North America, was established at Jamestown. It may have been in use as much as a century earlier. It’s been in use so long, its exact origin is a matter of debate. Well, at least for those who debate such things.

The point is - while a speech must of necessity use words, a language uses more than words. Colloquialisms, common understandings if you will, even when the reason for use of the specific words involved is unclear, are essential to communication.

Common understanding is key to communication, and that is the ultimate purpose of every good speech. Even when the topic about which you are speaking is one which must be approached “gingerly.”

From The Bully Pulpit - Tom

AML

Speech Writing Elements - What You Must Know

We will, on occasion, examine the fundamental elements of a good speech. Here is the first of these elements.

There are many elements to a successful speech. Carefully chosen words, well-crafted phrases, fully developed ideas, a good delivery, a significant occasion, a fancy Power Point presentation. All make a difference. Which element is most important? Like virtually every human endeavor, success lies in learning the things you must know.

How does a speech writer learn those things? Research. Solid research is the fundamental element of any good speech.

Here are the things the researcher must know -

Know the facts:
It sounds so basic, but it can easily be taken for granted. Especially when you are given information by an “expert.”

I once wrote a speech for a Senator, who had been invited to address a trade group. The Senator’s staff helpfully provided a list of legislation the group supported and the Senate had considered. Each of these bills had passed the Senate, but not the other chamber. It was helpful information, but I took the extra step of checking the precise tally of the vote in the Senate. It turned out only two Senators had voted against the legislation the association wanted. One, was the Senator I was writing the speech for.

That little extra research not only saved the speaker from potential embarrassment, but provided a deeper understanding of the issues facing the intended audience. Which, of course, led me to do a lot more research. From there, I was able to develop a speech along an entirely different theme.

Know the audience:
A clear understanding of what is important to the audience, is at least as essential as knowing what is critical to the speaker for whom you are writing. The audience wants the speaker to deal with their problems, not the speaker’s. At the same time, that audience is almost certainly looking for creative solutions to those problems. Those possible solutions should be provided by the speaker.

What every speech writer must keep in mind is - while they write for the speaker, they also write for the audience who will be listening to that speaker.

Know the greater context:
What outside forces of society affect both the speaker and the audience? How do you deal with those outside forces in trying to achieve your goals?

Know the voice of the speaker:
Each audience and speaker is different. To effectively convey the message, the language must be appropriate for the occasion, the audience and the speaker.

Know the ultimate goal of the speaker:
Is it to address just this one audience? Or is it to reach a larger target? Both audiences must be considered.

In the end, research is the basic element of speech writing, in the same way that Hydrogen is the fundamental element of the universe.


From The Bully Pulpit - Tom