Introduction
Original German
Eristische Dialektik [1] ist die Kunst zu disputiren, und zwar so zu disputiren, daß man Recht behält, also per fas et nefas.2 Man kann nämlich in der Sache selbst objective Recht haben und doch in den Augen der Beisteher, ja bisweilen in seinen eignen, Unrecht behalten. Wann nämlich der Gegner meinen Beweis widerlegt, und dies als Widerlegung der Behauptung selbst gilt, für die es jedoch andre Beweise geben kann; in welchem Fall natürlich für den Gegner das Verhältniß umgekehrt ist: er behält Recht, bei objektivem Unrecht. Also die objektive Wahrheit eines Satzes und die Gültigkeit desselben in der Approbation der Streiter und Hörer sind zweierlei. (Auf letztere ist die Dialektik gerichtet.)
Woher kommt das? — Von der natürlichen Schlechtigkeit des menschlichen Geschlechts. Wäre diese nicht, wären wir von Grund aus ehrlich, so würden wir bei jeder Debatte bloß darauf ausgeh[n] die Wahrheit zu Tage zu fördern, ganz unbekümmert ob solche unsrer zuerst aufgestellten Meinung oder der des Andern [3] gemäß ausfiele: dies würd[e] gleichgültig, oder wenigstens ganz und gar Nebensache seyn. Aber jetzt ist es Hauptsache. Die angeborne Eitelkeit, die besonders hinsichtlich der Verstandeskräfte reizbar ist, will nicht haben, daß was wir zuerst aufgestellt sich als falsch und das des Gegners als Recht ergebe. Hienach hätte nun zwar bloß Jeder sich zu bemühen nicht anders als richtig zu urtheilen: wozu er erst denken und nachher sprechen müßte. Aber zur angeb[ornen] Eitelkeit gesellt sich bei den Meisten Geschwätzigkeit und angeborne Unredlichkeit. Sie reden ehe sie gedacht haben und wenn sie auch hinterher merken, daß ihre Behauptung falsch ist und sie Unrecht haben; so soll es doch scheinen als wäre es umgekehrt. Das Interesse für die Wahrheit, welches wohl meistens bei Aufstellung des vermeintlich wahren Satzes das einzige Motiv gewesen, weicht jetzt ganz dem Interesse der Eitelkeit: wahr soll falsch und falsch wahr scheinen.
Jedoch hat selbst diese Unredlichkeit, das Beharren bei einem Satz der uns selbst schon falsch scheint, noch eine Entschuldigung: oft sind wir anfangs von der Wahrheit unsrer Behauptung fest überzeugt: aber das Argument des Gegners scheint jetzt sie umzustoßen: geben wir jetzt ihre Sache gleich auf; so finden wir oft hinterher, daß wir doch Recht hatten: unser Beweis war falsch; aber es konnte für die Behauptung einen richtigen geben: das rettende Argument war uns nicht gleich beigefallen. Daher entsteht nun in uns die Maxime, selbst wann das Gegenargument richtig und schlagend scheint, doch noch dagegen anzukämpfen, im Glauben daß dessen Richtigkeit selbst nur scheinbar sei, und uns während des Disputirens noch ein Argument jenes umzustoßen oder eines unsre Wahrheit anderweitig zu bestätigen einfallen werde: hiedurch werden wir zur Unredlichkeit im Disputiren beinahe genöthigt, wenigstens leicht verführt. Diesergestalt unterstützen sich wechselseitig die Schwäche uns[ers] Verstandes und die Verkehrtheit uns[eres] Willens. Daraus kommt es, daß wer disputirt in der Regel nicht für die Wahrheit, sondern für seinen Satz kämpft, wie pro ara et focis, und per fas et nefas verfährt, ja wie gezeigt nicht leicht anders kann. Jeder also wird in der Regel wollen seine Behauptung durchsetzen selbst w[a]nn sie ihm für den Augenblick falsch oder zweifelhaft scheint.4 Die Hülfsmittel hiezu giebt einem Jeden seine eigne Schlauheit und Schlechtigkeit einigermaaßen an die Hand: dies lehrt die tägliche Erfahrung beim Disputiren: es hat also jeder seine natürliche Dialektik, so wie er seine natürliche Logik hat. Allein jene leitet ihn lange nicht so sicher als diese. Gegen logische Gesetze denken, oder schließen, wird so leicht keiner: falsche Urtheile sind häufig, falsche Schlüsse höchst selten. Also Mangel an natürlicher Logik zeigt ein Mensch nicht leicht: hingegen wohl Mangel an natürlicher Dialektik: sie ist eine ungleich ausgetheilte Naturgabe (hierin der Urtheilskraft gleich, die sehr ungleich ausgetheilt ist, die Vernunft eigentlich gleich). Denn durch bloß scheinbare Argumentation sich konfundiren, sich refutiren lassen, wo man eigentlich Recht hat, oder das umgekehrte, geschieht oft: und wer als Sieger aus einem Streit geht, verdankt es sehr oft, nicht sowohl der Richtigkeit seiner Urtheilskraft bei Aufstellung seines Satzes, als vielmehr der Schlauheit und Gewandheit mit der er ihn vertheidigte. Angeboren ist hier wie in allen Fällen das beste:5 jedoch kann Uebung und auch Nachdenken über die Wendungen durch die man den Gegner wirft, oder die er meistens gebraucht um zu werfen, viel beitragen in dieser Kunst Meister zu werden.
Also wenn auch die Logik wohl keinen eigentl[ich] praktischen Nutzen haben kann: so kann ihn die Dialektik allerdings haben. Mir scheint auch Aristoteles seine eigentliche Logik (Analytik) hauptsächlich als Grundlage und Vorbereitung zur Dialektik aufgestellt zu haben und diese ihm die Hauptsache gewesen zu seyn. Die Logik beschäftigt sich mit der bloßen Form der Sätze, die Dialektik mit ihrem Gehalt oder Materie, dem Inhalt: daher eben mußte die Betrachtung der Form als des allgemeinen der des Inhalts als des besonder[en] vorhergehn.
Aristoteles bestimmt den Zweck der Dialektik nicht so scharf wie ich gethan: er giebt zwar als Hauptzweck das Disputiren an, aber zugleich auch das Auffinden der Wahrheit:6 später sagt er wieder: man behandle die Sätze philosophisch nach der Wahrheit, dialektisch nach dem Schein oder Beifall, Meinung Andrer (δοξα), Top. I, 12. Er ist sich der Unterscheidung und Trennung der objektiven Wahrheit eines Satzes von dem Geltendmachen desselben oder dem Erlangen der Approbation zwar bewußt: allein er hält sie nicht scharf genug auseinander um der Dialektik bloß letztere[s] anzuweisen.7 Seinen Regeln zu letzterem Zweck sind daher oft welche zum ersteren eingemengt. Daher es mir scheint daß er seine Aufgabe nicht rein gelöst hat.8
1 [Hiervor der Zusatz:] Bei den Alten werden Logik und Dialektik meistens als Synonyme gebraucht: Bei den Neueren ebenfalls: [folgt, mit Tinte durchgestrichen:] Ich aber sage
2 Eristik wäre nur ein härteres Wort für dieselbe Sache. Aristoteles (nach Diog. Laert. V, 28) stellte zusammen Rhetorik und Dialektik, deren Zweck die Ueberredung, το πιθανον, sei; sodann Analytik und Philosophie, deren Zweck die Wahrheit. — Διαλεκτικη δε εστι τεχνη λογων, δι’ ἧς ανασκευαζομεν τι η κατασκευαζομεν, εξ ερωτησεως και αποκρισεως των προσδιαλεγομενων. Diog. Laert. III, 48 in vita Platonis.
Aristoteles unterscheidet zwar 1) die Logik oder Analytik, als die Theorie oder Anweisung zu den wahren Schlüssen, den apodiktischen; 2) die Dialektik oder Anweisung zu den für wahr geltenden, als wahr kurrenten — ενδοξα, probabilia (Top. I. c. 1 [et] 12) — Schlüssen, wobei zwar nicht ausgemacht ist daß sie falsch sind, aber auch nicht daß sie wahr (an und für sich) sind; indem es darauf nicht ankommt. Was ist denn aber dies anders als die Kunst Recht zu behalten, gleichviel ob man es im Grunde habe oder nicht? Also die Kunst den Schein der Wahrheit zu erlangen unbekümmert um die Sache. Daher wie Anfangs gesagt. Aristoteles theilt eigentlich die Schlüsse in Logische, Dialektische, so wie eben gesagt: dann 3) in eristische (Eristik), bei denen die Schlußform richtig ist, die Sätze selbst aber, die Materie, nicht wahr sind, sondern nur wahr scheinen, und endlich 4) in sophistische (Sophistik), bei denen die Schlußform falsch ist, jedoch richtig scheint. Alle drei letzten Arten gehören eigentlich zur eristischen Dialektik, da sie alle ausgehn nicht auf die objektive Wahrheit, sondern auf den Schein derselben, unbekümmert um sie selbst, also auf das Recht behalten. Auch ist das Buch über die Sophistischen Schlüsse erst später allein edirt: es war das letzt[e] Buch der Dialektik.
3 [Darunter die Notiz:] (Siehe Buhles lateinische Einleitungen zu Topica und Elenchi.)
4 [Dabei die Notiz:] Machiavelli schreibt dem Fürsten vor jeden Augenblick der Schwäche seines Nachbarn zu benutzen um ihn anzugreifen: weil sonst dieser einmal den Augenblick benutzen kann wo jener schwach ist. Herrschte Treue und Redlichkeit, so wäre es ein andres: weil man sich aber deren nicht zu versehn hat, so darf man sie nicht üben, weil sie schlecht bezahlt wird: — eben so ist es beim Disputiren: gebe ich dem Gegner Recht sobald er es zu haben scheint; so wird er schwerlich dasselbe thun, wann der Fall sich umkehrt: er wird vielmehr per nefas verfahren: also muß ich's auch. Es ist leicht gesagt, man soll nur der Wahrheit nachgeh[n] ohne Vorliebe für seinen Satz: aber man darf nicht voraussetzen, daß der Andre es thun werde: also darf man's auch nicht. Zudem, wollte ich, sobald es mir scheint er habe Recht, meinen Satz aufgeben, den ich doch vorher durchdacht habe; so kann es leicht kommen, daß ich, durch einen augenblicklichen Eindruck verleitet, die Wahrheit aufgebe um den Irrthum anzunehmen
5 [Daneben am Rand:] Doctrina sed vim promovet insitam. [Hor.
6 [Daneben am Rand:] Top. I, 2.
7 [Dazu am Rand:] Und andrerseits ist er im Buche de elenchis sophisticis wieder zu sehr bemüht die Dialektik zu trennen von der Sophistik und Eristik: wo der Unterschied darin liegen soll, daß dialektisch[e] Schlüsse in Form und Gehalt wahr, Eristische oder Sophistische (die sich bloß durch den Zweck unterscheiden, der bei ersteren (Eristik) das Rechthaben an sich, bei leßtern (Sophistik) das dadurch zu erlangende Ansehn und das durch dieses zu erwerbende Geld ist) aber falsch sind. Ob Sätze dem Gehalt nach wahr sind, ist immer viel zu ungewiß, als daß man daraus den Unterscheidungsgrund nehmen sollte: und am wenigsten kann der Disputirende selbst darüber völlig gewiß seyn: selbst das Resultat der Disputation giebt erst einen unsichern Aufschluß darüber. Wir müssen also unter Dialektik des Aristoteles Sophistik, Eristik, Peirastik mitbegreifen und sie definiren als die Kunst im Disputiren Recht zu behalten: wobei freilich das größte Hülfsmittel ist zuvörderst in der Sache Recht zu haben: allein für sich ist dies bei der Sinnesart der Menschen nicht zureichend und andrerseits bei der Schwäche ihres Verstandes nicht durchaus nothwendig: es gehören also noch andre Kunstgriffe dazu, welche, eben weil sie vom objektiven Rechthaben unabhängig sind, auch gebraucht werden können, wenn man obj[ektiv] Unrecht hat: und ob dies der Fall sei, weiß man fast nie ganz gewiß. Meine Ansicht also ist, die Dialektik von der Logik schärfer zu sondern als Aristoteles gethan hat, der Logik die objektive Wahrheit, so weit sie formell ist, zu lassen: und die Dialektik auf das Rechtbehalten zu beschränken: dagegen aber Sophistik und Eristik nicht so von ihr zu trennen wie Aristoteles thut: da dieser Unterschied auf der objektiven materiellen Wahrheit beruht, über die wir nicht sicher zum voraus im klaren seyn können: sondern mit Pontius Pilatus sagen müssen: was ist die Wahrheit? — [d]enn veritas est in puteo: εν βυθω ἡ αληθεια: Spruch des Democrit: Diog. Laert. IX, 72. Es ist leicht zu sagen, daß man beim Streiten nichts [a]nderes bezwecken soll als die Zutageförderung der Wahrheit: allein man weiß ja noch nicht wo sie ist: man wird durch die Argumente des Gegners und durch seine eigenen irre geführt. — Uebrigens re intellecta, in verbis simus faciles: da man den Namen Dialektik im Ganzen für gleichbedeutend mit Logik zu nehmen pflegt, wollen wir unsre Disciplin Dialectica eristica, eristische Dialektik nennen. —
8 [Dabei der Zusatz:] (Man muß allemal den Gegenstand einer Disciplin von dem jeder andern rein sondern.)
Musean translation
Machine-assisted, directly from Deussen’s German edition (1923).
Eristic dialectic [1] is the art of disputing, and of disputing in such a way that one remains in the right, by fair means or foul.2 One may be objectively right about the matter itself and yet come away wrong in the eyes of the bystanders, sometimes even in one's own. For when an opponent refutes my proof and this is taken as a refutation of the assertion itself, although other proofs of it may exist, the situation is naturally reversed for the opponent: he comes away right while objectively wrong. Thus the objective truth of a proposition and its acceptance by the disputants and their hearers are two different things. Dialectic is directed toward the latter.
Where does this come from? From the natural wickedness of the human race. Were this absent, were we honest to the core, we would seek in every debate only to bring the truth to light, quite unconcerned whether it favored the opinion we had first advanced or the other person's.3 That would be a matter of indifference, or at least wholly secondary. Now, however, it is the chief concern. Our inborn vanity, particularly sensitive about our intellectual powers, will not allow what we first asserted to prove false and the opponent's assertion right. Each of us should therefore strive only to judge correctly, thinking first and speaking afterward. But in most people, talkativeness and an inborn dishonesty join this inborn vanity. They speak before they have thought; even if they later notice that their assertion is false and they are wrong, they still want it to appear the other way around. The interest in truth, which was probably most often the sole motive for advancing the supposedly true proposition, now yields entirely to the interest of vanity: truth must appear false and falsehood true.
Yet even this dishonesty, this persistence in a proposition that already seems false to us, has an excuse. We are often firmly convinced at first of the truth of our assertion; now the opponent's argument seems to overthrow it. If we immediately abandon its cause, we often discover afterward that we were right after all. Our proof was false, but a correct proof of the assertion was possible; the saving argument simply did not occur to us at once. Thus there arises in us the maxim of continuing to fight even when the counterargument seems correct and decisive, in the belief that its correctness is merely apparent and that, as we dispute, an argument will occur to us that overturns it or otherwise confirms our own truth. This all but compels us to be dishonest in disputation, or at least readily tempts us. The weakness of our understanding and the perversity of our will thus support one another. Hence, as a rule, the disputant fights not for truth but for his proposition, as if for hearth and home, proceeding by fair means or foul; indeed, as we have seen, he can hardly do otherwise.
Each person will therefore generally wish to carry his assertion through even when it seems false or doubtful to him for the moment.4 His own cunning and wickedness put the means for this to some extent into his hands: daily experience in disputation teaches it. Everyone therefore has his natural dialectic, just as he has his natural logic. But the former guides him far less securely than the latter. Hardly anyone will readily think or infer against the laws of logic: false judgments are common, false inferences exceedingly rare. A person therefore seldom reveals a lack of natural logic, but may well reveal a lack of natural dialectic. This is an unequally distributed natural gift—in this resembling the power of judgment, which is distributed very unequally, whereas reason is essentially equal. For it often happens that we allow merely specious argument to confound and refute us when we are actually right, or the reverse. Whoever emerges victorious from a dispute very often owes it not so much to the correctness of his judgment in advancing his proposition as to the cunning and dexterity with which he defended it. Here, as everywhere, the inborn gift is best;5 yet practice and reflection upon the maneuvers by which one throws an opponent, or which he generally uses to throw others, can do much to make one a master of this art. Thus, even if logic can have no properly practical use, dialectic certainly can. It also seems to me that Aristotle developed his logic proper, the Analytics, chiefly as a foundation and preparation for dialectic, which was his main concern. Logic deals with the bare form of propositions; dialectic with their import or matter, their content. The consideration of form as the universal therefore had to precede that of content as the particular.
Aristotle does not define the purpose of dialectic as sharply as I have. He does name disputation as its chief purpose, but also the discovery of truth.6 Later he says again that propositions should be treated philosophically according to truth, dialectically according to appearance or approval, the opinion of others—doxa. Top. I, 12. He is aware of the distinction and separation between the objective truth of a proposition and establishing its acceptance, or obtaining approval. But he does not keep them sharply enough apart to assign dialectic only the latter.7 Rules directed toward this latter purpose are therefore often intermingled with rules directed toward the former. Hence it seems to me that he has not resolved his task in its purity.8
1 [Earlier addition:] The ancients generally use logic and dialectic as synonyms; so do the moderns. [The following is crossed out in ink:] I, however, say.
2 “Eristic” would merely be a harsher word for the same thing. Aristotle, according to Diog. Laert. V, 28, grouped rhetoric with dialectic, whose purpose is persuasion, to pithanon; then analytics with philosophy, whose purpose is truth. “Dialectic is the art of arguments by which we refute or establish something through the questioning and answering of the participants in the conversation.” Diog. Laert. III, 48 in vita Platonis.
Aristotle distinguishes 1) logic or analytics, the theory of or instruction in true, apodictic inferences; 2) dialectic, instruction in inferences that pass as true, that have currency as true—endoxa, probabilia (Top. I. c. 1 [et] 12). It is not established that these are false, but neither is it established that they are true in themselves; that is not what matters. Yet what is this but the art of remaining in the right, regardless of whether one is fundamentally right or not? It is the art of acquiring the appearance of truth, unconcerned with the matter itself. Hence what was said at the beginning. Aristotle actually divides inferences into logical and dialectical, as just described; then 3) eristic ones, eristic, in which the form of inference is correct but the propositions themselves, the matter, are not true and only appear so; and finally 4) sophistical ones, sophistry, in which the form of inference is false but appears correct. All three latter kinds properly belong to eristic dialectic, since all aim not at objective truth but at its appearance, unconcerned with truth itself: at remaining in the right. The book on sophistical inferences was only published separately later; it was the last book of dialectic.
3 [Note beneath:] See Buhle's Latin introductions to Topica and Elenchi.
4 [Accompanying note:] Machiavelli advises the prince to seize every moment of his neighbor's weakness to attack him, since otherwise that neighbor may one day seize the moment when the prince is weak. If loyalty and honesty prevailed, it would be different. But since one cannot count on them, one must not practice them: they are poorly rewarded. It is the same in disputation. If I concede that the opponent is right as soon as he seems so, he will hardly do the same when the case is reversed; rather, he will proceed wrongfully, and so must I. It is easy to say that one should follow truth alone without partiality toward one's proposition; but one must not assume that the other person will do so, and therefore must not do so oneself. Besides, if, as soon as he seems to be right, I were to abandon a proposition I had previously thought through, I could easily be misled by a momentary impression into abandoning truth and embracing error.
5 [Beside this in the margin:] Yet learning advances inborn strength. [Hor.
6 [Beside this in the margin:] Top. I, 2.
7 [Added in the margin:] Yet in the book de elenchis sophisticis, he is again too intent on separating dialectic from sophistry and eristic. The distinction is supposed to be that dialectical inferences are true in form and content, while eristic or sophistical inferences are false. These two differ only in purpose: the former, eristic, seeks to be right in itself; the latter, sophistry, seeks the reputation to be gained thereby and the money that reputation will earn. Whether propositions are true in content is always far too uncertain to furnish a basis for this distinction. Least of all can the disputant himself be perfectly certain of it: even the result of the dispute gives only an uncertain indication. Under Aristotle's dialectic we must therefore include sophistry, eristic and the art of examination, and define it as the art of remaining in the right in disputation. The greatest aid is certainly to be right about the matter at the outset. But given the disposition of human beings, this is insufficient by itself; given the weakness of their understanding, it is not even absolutely necessary. Other stratagems are needed, which, precisely because they are independent of objective rightness, can also be used when one is objectively wrong; and one almost never knows this with complete certainty.
My view, then, is to distinguish dialectic more sharply from logic than Aristotle did: to leave objective truth to logic, insofar as it is formal, and restrict dialectic to remaining in the right. On the other hand, sophistry and eristic should not be separated from it as Aristotle separates them. That distinction rests on objective material truth, of which we cannot be securely certain beforehand. Rather, we must say with Pontius Pilate: what is truth? For truth lies in a well: en bytho he aletheia, a saying of Democritus. Diog. Laert. IX, 72. It is easy to say that in a dispute one should seek nothing but to bring truth to light; but one does not yet know where it lies. One is led astray by the opponent's arguments and one's own. Besides, once the matter is understood, let us be easy about words. Since the name dialectic is generally taken as synonymous with logic, we will call our discipline eristic dialectic, Dialectica eristica.
8 [Accompanying addition:] One must always distinguish the subject of one discipline cleanly from that of every other.
Plain English translation
Machine-assisted, independently translated directly from Deussen’s German edition (1923).
Eristic dialectic1 is the art of arguing, specifically of arguing so that you come out right, whether by fair means or foul.2 You can be objectively right about the matter itself and still end up wrong in the eyes of the onlookers, sometimes even in your own. This happens when an opponent refutes my proof and this is taken as a refutation of the claim itself, although there may be other proofs for it. In that case, of course, the opponent's position is the reverse: he comes out right while being objectively wrong. So the objective truth of a proposition is one thing; its acceptance by the people arguing and listening is another. (Dialectic is concerned with the latter.)
Why does this happen?—Because of the natural badness of the human race. If this did not exist, if we were honest through and through, our only aim in any debate would be to bring the truth to light. We would not care at all whether it agreed with the opinion we first put forward or with the other person's.3 That would not matter, or at least it would be entirely secondary. As things stand, it is the main thing. Our inborn vanity, which is especially sensitive about our intellectual abilities, will not accept that what we first claimed should turn out false and our opponent's claim right. To avoid this, each person would only need to make sure that his judgments were correct. For that, he would have to think first and speak afterward. But in most people, inborn vanity comes with a love of talking and inborn dishonesty. They speak before they think. Even if they realize afterward that their claim is false and they are wrong, it must still look as though the opposite were true. Concern for truth, which was probably their only motive in most cases when they put forward the proposition they believed to be true, now gives way entirely to concern for their vanity: truth must look false, and falsehood true.
Yet even this dishonesty—sticking to a proposition that already seems false to us—has an excuse. We are often firmly convinced at first that our claim is true, but now our opponent's argument seems to overturn it. If we give up on it at once, we often discover afterward that we were right after all. Our proof was wrong, but there could have been a sound proof for the claim: the argument that would have saved it simply did not occur to us at once. This leads us to adopt a rule: even when the counterargument seems sound and conclusive, keep fighting it, in the belief that its soundness is itself only apparent, and that during the argument we will still think of an argument to overturn it, or one that confirms our truth in some other way. This almost forces us into dishonesty in argument, or at least makes it easy to fall into it. In this way, the weakness of our understanding and the perversity of our will support each other. As a result, people who argue generally fight not for truth but for their own proposition, as if defending their hearth and home. They use fair means or foul; indeed, as we have seen, they can hardly do otherwise. So, as a rule, everyone will want to get his claim accepted, even if for the moment it seems false or doubtful to him.4 Each person's own cunning and badness give him some of the means to do this, as everyday experience of arguments teaches us. Everyone therefore has his own natural dialectic, just as he has his own natural logic. But the former guides him far less reliably than the latter. Hardly anyone will think or draw conclusions contrary to the laws of logic: false judgments are common, but faulty inferences are extremely rare. So people rarely show a lack of natural logic, but they certainly do show a lack of natural dialectic. It is an unevenly distributed natural gift, like the power of judgment, which is distributed very unevenly, whereas reason itself is really distributed equally. People are often confused and refuted by arguments that only seem valid when they are actually right, or the reverse happens. Someone who comes out of an argument the winner very often owes this less to the correctness of his judgment in putting forward his proposition than to the cunning and skill with which he defended it. Here, as everywhere, natural talent is best.5 Still, practice, and also reflection on the moves we use to bring an opponent down or that he generally uses to bring us down, can do a great deal to make us masters of this art.
So even if logic can have no real practical use, dialectic certainly can. It also seems to me that Aristotle developed his logic proper (analytics) chiefly as a foundation and preparation for dialectic, and that dialectic was his main concern. Logic deals only with the form of propositions; dialectic deals with their substance or subject matter, their content. For that very reason, the study of form, as the general element, had to come before the study of content, as the particular element.
Aristotle does not define the aim of dialectic as sharply as I have. He does name arguing as its main aim, but also discovering the truth.6 Later, however, he says that we treat propositions philosophically in terms of truth, and dialectically in terms of appearance or approval, other people's judgment (opinion), Top. I, 12. He is aware of the distinction and separation between the objective truth of a proposition and getting it accepted or winning approval for it. But he does not keep them sharply enough apart to assign only the latter to dialectic.7 As a result, his rules for the latter purpose are often mixed with rules for the former. That is why it seems to me that he has not carried out his task cleanly.8
1 [Addition before this:] The ancients generally use logic and dialectic as synonyms. Modern writers do too. [This follows, crossed out in ink:] But I say
2 Eristic would only be a harsher word for the same thing. Aristotle (according to Diog. Laert. V, 28) grouped rhetoric and dialectic together, their aim being persuasion, what is persuasive; then analytics and philosophy, whose aim is truth.—“Dialectic is the art of argument by which we refute or establish something through questions and answers exchanged by those in conversation.” Diog. Laert. III, 48 in vita Platonis.
Aristotle does distinguish 1) logic or analytics, as the theory of, or instruction in, true inferences, those that demonstrate their conclusions; 2) dialectic, or instruction in inferences that are accepted as true, that pass as true—accepted opinions, probable propositions (Top. I. c. 1 [et] 12). Here it is not established that they are false, but neither is it established that they are true (in themselves), since that is not what matters. But what is this other than the art of coming out right, whether or not you are actually right? It is the art of gaining the appearance of truth without caring about the facts. Hence what was said at the beginning. Aristotle actually divides inferences into logical and dialectical, as just described; then 3) eristic inferences (eristic), in which the form of the inference is correct, but the propositions themselves, the subject matter, are not true and only seem true; and finally 4) sophistical inferences (sophistry), in which the form of the inference is faulty but seems correct. All three of the last kinds really belong to eristic dialectic, since all aim not at objective truth but at its appearance, without caring about truth itself: in other words, at coming out right. The book on sophistical inferences was only published separately later; it was the last book of the Dialectic.
3 [Note below this:] (See Buhle's Latin introductions to Topica and Elenchi.)
4 [Note beside this:] Machiavelli instructs the prince to use every moment of weakness in his neighbor to attack him, because otherwise the neighbor may one day take advantage of a moment when the prince is weak. If loyalty and honesty prevailed, it would be different. But since we cannot expect them, we must not practice them, because they are poorly rewarded. It is the same in argument: if I concede that my opponent is right as soon as he seems to be, he will hardly do the same when the situation is reversed. Instead, he will use unfair means, so I must too. It is easy to say that we should pursue only the truth, without favoring our own proposition. But we cannot assume that the other person will do this, so we must not do it either. Besides, if I were to abandon my proposition, which I had already thought through, as soon as it seemed to me that he was right, I could easily be misled by a momentary impression into giving up the truth and accepting error.
5 [Beside this in the margin:] But teaching develops inborn strength. [Hor.
6 [Beside this in the margin:] Top. I, 2.
7 [On this in the margin:] On the other hand, in the book de elenchis sophisticis, he again makes too much effort to separate dialectic from sophistry and eristic. The supposed distinction is that dialectical inferences are true in form and content, while eristic or sophistical inferences are false. These last two differ only in their purpose: in the former (eristic), the aim is being right for its own sake; in the latter (sophistry), it is the reputation gained by being right and the money to be made from that reputation. Whether propositions are true in content is always far too uncertain to serve as the basis for a distinction. The person arguing is least of all in a position to be completely certain about it. Even the result of the argument gives only an uncertain indication. So we must include sophistry, eristic, and examination through argument within Aristotle's dialectic and define it as the art of coming out right in an argument. Of course, the greatest help in this is to be right about the matter in the first place. But given people's way of thinking, that alone is not enough; and given the weakness of their understanding, it is not absolutely necessary either. Other tricks are needed as well. Precisely because they do not depend on being objectively right, they can also be used when we are objectively wrong—and we hardly ever know for certain whether that is the case. My view, then, is to separate dialectic from logic more sharply than Aristotle did: to leave objective truth, insofar as it concerns form, to logic, and to limit dialectic to coming out right. But I would not separate sophistry and eristic from it as Aristotle does, since that distinction rests on the objective truth of the subject matter, which we cannot clearly and confidently determine in advance. Instead, we must say with Pontius Pilate, “What is truth?”—For truth is in a well; truth is in the depths: a saying of Democritus, Diog. Laert. IX, 72. It is easy to say that in an argument we should aim at nothing but bringing truth to light. But we do not yet know where it is; our opponent's arguments and our own lead us astray.—Still, once the matter is understood, let us be flexible about words: since people generally use the name dialectic as a synonym for logic, let us call our discipline Dialectica eristica, eristic dialectic.—
8 [Addition beside this:] (We must always keep the subject matter of one discipline clearly separate from that of every other.)
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Introduction is part of The Art of Being Right by Arthur Schopenhauer. This page sets the German original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is section 2 of 43 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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