Mechanical and Autonomous Speech

Susan C. Jarret, in "Rhetoric," describes not only the history of rhetoric, but also how differently rhetoric has been viewed throughout the ages. Rhetoric's definition goes all the way from "a good man speaking well" (76), to the idea that all speakers are "subjected to the determinations of ideology, the unconscious, institutions, and systems of discourse" (88). In other words, we are not at all "autonomous speakers," but rather bound by mechanical attitudes brought about by ingrained beliefs, unknown desires, established norms, and our own particular society's methods of communication. For years I've been intrigued by the seeming contradiction in these two perspectives -- how on the one hand, we can be mechanical automatons, and on the other we can be autonomous and original. However, I still can't figure out why people insist on the "yes or no" of it instead of exploring the "yes and no" of it.

There are those who consistently speak from mechanical perspectives, and whatever they have to say could be construed as "unworthy" of our attention, because, in simplest terms, when people are speaking mechanically, their thoughts are not their own. However, if a person speaks from a place of autonomy, which always requires rebellion on some level, there's a chance that what he or she has to say will be seen as "good," in the sense that it is conscious, novel, and has the ability to move others in a positive way. What I've come to notice in life is that just as there are some people who generally speak mechanically, there are also some people who, more often than not, speak from a position of autonomy.

I'd never argue against the idea that we are mechanical beings for the most part, and that some of us can become completely stuck in the morass of learned societal, or core culture attitudes. Like the bible thumper who demonizes the teachings of the Tao, many of us take what we've been fed as children and young adults as gospel. Even those who rebel -- who say, "I don't believe what this society is trying to cram into my brain" -- have lapses back into mechanical behavior. However, it is simply wrong to say we are all in that place, all of the time. There are moments of understanding waiting for anyone who chooses to look for them. If it weren't so, where'd postmodernists come up with their supposedly original idea that all speaking is "ventriloquism" (88)? And wouldn't they be perturbed if someone mentioned that the parable about the "rich man" is a metaphor that exactly describes a person who is loaded with self-importance over his learned attitudes, proving this "postmodern" idea is not so post modern after all. Hmmmm, by adding that last sentence, I think I just proved their point that there's nothing original. Oh well, that's what postmodernist deconstruction does to me, sends me spiraling down that crazy hole dug by the white rabbit where only confusion, confusion, and still more confusion waits. But, I know a way out. In this case, all I have to do is turn my head and point in the direction of an original idea that actually worked... like magic.

Just the other night, I got a good dose of the kind of magic that can happen when one rebels and becomes an "autonomous speaker." Mr. Villanueava's decision to chuck it all, revolt, and speak from his own experience in Boot Straps, -- an act he thought would get him out of academics and not necessarily with blessings attached -- proved to be a boon not only for him, but also for the academic community itself. Instead of being ostracized by that community, he was embraced and acclaimed. Of course, the key idea here is that autonomy can have positive results, but not always. If one looks through history at autonomous characters in general, it will become clear that many of them just plain flat suffered for their ideas, which is why speaking autonomously is always risky business.