What can a 2400-year dead guy have to say about D&D? Quite a lot, it turns out.

Oh Boy. Here we are at Aristotle in ancient Greece.“There were many steps and columns, it was most tranquil.” - Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. (Yes, they pick up Socrates, not Aristotle. I know.)

From my reading, Aristotle’s view of human nature feels almost laughably naive in the 2000s. To the philosopher, successful rhetoric is supposed to require wisdom and eloquence. Audiences are thought to prefer truth inherently more than falsehood. Our success as a persuader is supposed to lie with our understanding of rhetoric alone: If we fail at it, it’s our own fault. 

However, does that mean we can’t find ways to think about The Rhetoric in terms of D&D? Absolutely not. I got D&D for DAYS. First, for the DMs, we can first think about rhetoric in terms of simple persuasion. How can we get players to do what we want? Or, more interestingly, how can we offer them various persuasive options? According to Aristotle, there are multiple routes to persuasion. He often wrote about affairs of state and so, just like any interpretive theorist, he observed deeply the world around him and came to conclusions about the ways in which people were swayed to action. We’ll look at three types of rhetoric in terms of three plot hooks for your adventurers:

1. Forensic: The Players must gather evidence and present it at court to defend an innocent NPC.

2. Epideictic: The Players must inflame or calm a crowd by speaking ill or favorably about a deceased monarch. 

3. Deliberative: The Players must convince counsel members to allow refugees into the town.

Sometimes persuasion is artistic and at other times, much more analytical. As both player and DM, we can add to our dialogues and social interactions both dramatic flourishes and also cold, hard facts. In fact, DMs might consider what kinds of persuasion would be most effective for which kinds of NPCs. Rational, logical (logos) appeals may be inartistic, but useful against a pragmatic city guard and not a fearful recluse. One way in which logos may be used to great effect in D&D is through drawing examples from the past. This might help motivate (or inform) players or to sway NPCs to aid in the party’s mission: “The Devils attacked Issaguen, En Hociema, and Kenitra. They will certainly strike again.” Illustrations, in addition to adding persuasive power to an argument, evoke imaginative thinking, enhancing gameplay for all.

Second, using feelings to persuade (pathos), is an attempted evocation of emotion in the target. Emotion-laden rhetoric is, and likely always has been, a staple of public discourse. Aristotle hated it, too. No, that’s an exaggeration, but he understood that impassioned pleas may be less than ethical. Public, political, persuasive communication can be a societal good, he said, so long as it’s practiced by the ethical speaker (rhetor). An early fan of dialectics, Aristotle posed a series of pairs of feelings that persuasive speakers might try to pull from their audiences: anger-calmness, friendliness-enmity, fear-confidence, indignation-pity, and admiration-envy. If these each aren’t models for conflicting NPCs, I don’t know what are.

Third, each player and each NPC brings to their conversations a built-in credibility (ethos), which in terms of D&D is most clearly represented in your Charisma stat. In the game, it is the basis of your Deception, Intimidation, Performance and Persuasion skills. In terms of rhetoric, Aristotle was probably not thinking about a Bard’s flute solo. It makes perfect sense, however, that a killer flute solo (Performance Check) would contribute to the Bard’s ethos because the audience now perceives him as more competent.

One of the best parts of college was learning that the word “canon” was not a Civil War boom machine. In the context of The Rhetoric, “canon” means core or essential components, like the Player’s Handbook, Monster Manual, and Dungeon Master’s Guide (available at many fine local booksellers). Aristotle’s RMG (Rhetoric Master’s Guide) would have five chapters. 

1. Invention: Use clear examples and specialized knowledge to make reasonable claims. The Druid should speak on the Devils’ impact on nature; the Paladin can comment on their god’s interest in purifying the realm; the pragmatic Rogue might talk about trade routes being disrupted.

2. Arrangement: State your case and then demonstrate it. A simple thesis supported by verifiable proofs is best. Have some evidence that is hard to refute.

3. Style: Metaphors are awesome. They are super effective teaching and persuasive communication because they are so instrumental in conjuring images in players’ heads. From imagination, the game begins and ends.

4. Delivery: Be yourself and be natural. Naturalness is inherently persuasive. With a high enough Insight Check, we can often spot a deceiver in-game. In real life, Aristotle found that audiences were able to suss out delivery that was obviously staged and planned-out.

5. Memory: In the philosopher’s time and for generations beyond, a speaker’s ability to memorize their work was paramount. Thankfully, as players and DMs, we likely don’t face this hurdle. However, the improvisational nature of D&D does mean that everyone around the table should be ready to present and respond “on the fly” to occurrences more outlandish and dramatic than what any of us will ever actually face.

Campaign tone is a given whenever a game happens. How serious of a campaign do you want to have? How light-hearted, cerebral, or wacky zombie-pirate focused? Aristotle has advice for us DMs. One of my favorite, and oft-lectured concepts of his is the golden mean. The idea, if you are unfamiliar, is that the good (virtue) is held between the extreme evils of two vices: excess and deficiency. An ultra-serious campaign with nary a break for levity, down-time, or relaxation would likely tire even the most die-hard of gamers. One made solely of zombie-pirates who talk like Truman Capote would also turn off players. Aristotle wants you to only bust out the hilarious alien zombies occasionally. It’s what the virtuous DM should do.  You heard it from Aristotle.