Just before Thanksgiving, the White House released a statement on U.S. policy toward Saudi Arabia in the wake of the brutal murder of U.S. journalist and Saudi expatriate Jamal Khashoggi. The short version of President Trump’s message? Nothing has changed. Despite the fact that Mr. Khashoggi was a permanent U.S. resident, a father to U.S. citizens, and a columnist for the Washington Post, and despite the conclusion with “high confidence” from American intelligence that the murder was ordered by the effective head of state, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the President mentioned American arms profits and clarified in a subsequent news conference, “We are staying with Saudi Arabia.” And “staying,” in this case, also means echoing the regime’s own talking points about Mr. Khashoggi. “Representatives of Saudi Arabia say that Jamal Khashoggi was an ‘enemy of the state’ and a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, but my decision is in no way based on that,” the President said.
This is a timely example of a rhetorical technique called paraleipsis (sometimes also called apophasis), and it refers to the act of bringing up a subject by denying that it should be brought up, or showing that something matters by saying it shouldn’t matter. For example, the political candidate might say, “This campaign is about the issues, so I don’t want to discuss the fact that my opponent has been accused of child abuse.” It is saying something by professing not to say it. In the case of the President’s statement, if it is truly not about Saudi Arabia’s claims against Khashoggi, then one wonders why they’re brought up. Cynically, the reason is to plant the seed that Saudis may have their reasons, suggesting however indirectly, that the American journalist and critic of the Saudi regime deserved to die. Individuals who use this technique of paraleipsis might feel that they’re being clever because they’re denying the point (e.g., Trump says his decision “is in no way based on that”). The problem is that this level of clever isn’t very persuasive because it is obvious. Like some other rhetorical techniques that are too self-referential, they fail when a skeptical audience is able to see the technique in action.
Fundamentally, paraleipsis is a strategy of misdirection: The speaker is pretending to pass over what he actually wants an audience to focus on. As an ancient Greek orator reportedly said, “I do not speak of my adversary’s scandalous venality and rapacity, his brutal conduct, his treachery and malice…” It turns out to be a favorite strategy of President Trump. During the campaign he would entertain the crowds by talking about Jeb Bush (“I was going to say ‘dummy’ Bush; I won’t say it. I won’t say it”), or Carly Fiorina (“I promised I would not say that she ran Hewlett-Packard into the ground, that she laid off tens of thousands of people and she got viciously fired. I said I will not say it, so I will not say it”), or Megyn Kelly (“I refuse to call Megyn Kelly a bimbo”). From the context, it seems clear that Trump is doing this in what is intended to be a winking manner, because the perceived humor plays to his strongest base, though probably not to anyone else.
In the courtroom, of course, there’s a lot less latitude than one finds at a Trump rally. When there is an issue that should not be brought up, there is a judge present to make sure, through pretrial rulings and sustained objections, that it isn’t. When there are gray areas, however, advocates can sometimes be motivated to find them. So let me share a couple of examples.
One Big Example: Sympathy
The stereotype of the trial lawyer is steeped in sympathy appeals. But litigators on both sides, have generally come around to the view that sympathy doesn’t work as well as the image would suggest. It is a “low-power” strategy, and litigators generally don’t want to convey low power. The technique of paraleipsis, however, sometimes tempts attorneys to make a sympathy appeal even when they’re disavowing sympathy. They’ll say, in effect, “I am not asking for sympathy…but here’s a bunch of information that could only be useful in trying to win your sympathy.” Bringing up the subject of sympathy, or asking about it in voir dire, can encourage jurors to jump to the conclusion that you’re making a sympathy appeal. That conclusion, in turn, can lead to the belief that you’re choosing sympathy because you don’t have anything stronger. So, presuming you do have something stronger, it is better to avoid invoking sympathy through paraleipsis. Instead of saying “I’m not going to appeal to sympathy,” just don’t appeal to sympathy.
Many Smaller Examples: Word Choice
The examples from President Trump might seem over the top, and would never, without sanctions that is, be replicated in court. However, formal speech or writing, of the kinds likely to be shared with the court, are full of less obvious examples of paraleipsis. For example, consider the following:
It should go without saying…
I won’t mention…
I don’t need to remind you, but…
As we all know…
There are a few situations where it isn’t a bad idea to provide a reminder of something that perhaps, strictly speaking, does not need a reminder. And it can be a useful step to acknowledge common ground, as long as you plan to move on from that common ground as you build your argument. But it is a good idea to use that technique sparingly and consciously. If you start a sentence more than once or twice with, “I don’t need to tell you…” your audience will start mentally responding, “You’re right, you don’t need to tell me.” And it might be the potential for paraleipsis that causes a statement like, “With all due respect” to be popularly understood as “Without much respect at all.”
The General Problem: Obviousness
The problem linking these examples, as well as many other shady forms of rhetoric is their obviousness. If a tactic calls attention to itself, or is readily discernible as a tactic to a reasonably skeptical audience, then the tactic is usually best to avoid.
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Image credit: 123rf.com, used under license
