Ti-Estify

Speech-to-Dialogue Conversions as an Exercise to Boost Critical Thinking

1. Introduction

A highly effective exercise in critical thinking is the conversion of monologic speeches or structured arguments into Socratic dialogues. Speeches and arguments often rest upon, and may therefore be biased by, underlying rigid and static thought patterns. By contrast, Socratic dialogues are characterised by uniquely plastic and dynamic thinking, coupled with an interactive vocation. The conversion exercise, which we might call "ti-estifying," invites us to take any speech or argument, whether our own or someone else’s, and break it down into a Socratic exchange of short questions and short answers. It makes no difference that we perform the task in our own mind, playing both the role of Socrates and that of a prospective interlocutor. As Socrates himself would say, nowhere else but in ourselves will we find our ideal and most efficient Socratic coach (Plato, Phaedo, 78a9).

But what exactly happens when we begin to “ti-estify” a given speech or argument, and what is the ultimate purpose of this exercise? Below, I propose imagining the “ti-estifying” process as akin to the laboratory analysis of an object, where examination is entrusted to the lenses of a microscope rather than to the naked eye (s. 2). I then show how this process enables us to detect potential flaws in speeches and arguments, while offering guidance on how to prevent these pitfalls in our reasoning (ibid.). Finally, I expand the explanation of the features and ultimate purpose of the “ti-estifying” process with the practical example of a possible speech-to-dialogue conversion (s. 3).

2. The microscope analogy: the magnifying function of Socratic analysis and its ultimate purpose

The shift from monologic speech or structured argument to Socratic dialogue is akin to the transition from naked-eye observation to laboratory analysis, particularly microscopic examination. Just as a microscope’s lenses immediately bring into focus components of an object that would remain unnoticed by the naked eye, the magnifying function of Socratic analysis reveals the finer details of a speech or argument.

Some of the major threats to inferential strength and soundness in speeches or arguments stem from flaws occurring in the form of unstated assumptions or implicit premises, hidden contradictions, a biased and unfair reading of the data or literature available to us, and a poor or nonexistent understanding of the topic under discussion. When delivering a speech or defending an argument, we often hammer out our points rather than objectively verifying whether they withstand scrutiny. This makes us insensitive to potential flaws within our reasoning. By contrast, breaking a speech or argument down into a Socratic exchange of short questions and short answers enables us to detect potential flaws, while offering guidance on how to avoid them.

Let us consider a paradigmatic example of Socrates calling Protagoras, the best and most famous Sophist of Greece, for a “ti-estification” of his speeches:

Protagoras, I tend to be a forgetful sort of person, and if someone speaks to me at length I tend to forget the subject of the speech. […] Now that you have fallen in with a forgetful person, you will have to cut your answers short if I am going to follow you. […] I have heard, anyway, that when you are instructing someone in a certain subject, you are able to speak at length, if you choose, and never get off the subject, or to speak so briefly that no one could be briefer. So if you are going to converse with me, please use the latter form of expression, brevity. […] If you are ever willing to hold a discussion in such a way that I can follow, I will participate in it with you. People say of you—and you say yourself—that you are able to discuss things speaking either at length or briefly. You are a wise man, after all. But I don’t have the ability to make those long speeches: I only wish I did. It was up to you, who have the ability to do both, to make this concession, so that the discussion could have had a chance.

Plato, Protagoras, 334c8-335c3, tr. Lombardo-Bell.

Socrates’ call for brevity (bracheiótes), delivered with a touch of his usual irony (eironeía), is ultimately a call to interrupt the lengthy flow typical of Sophistic speeches or arguments in order to verify the accuracy of each single assertion.

Refining our ability to convert speeches or arguments into Socratic dialogues implants in our minds a revolutionary intellectual device: a voice (phoné), akin to a critical-thinking variation of Socrates’ legendary divine sign or daemon (daímon, daimónion), which mostly guided him in ethical matters (Plato, Euthyphro, 3b5-6; Apology, 31c7-d6; 40a2-c3; 41c8-e1; Euthydemus, 272e1-4; Republic, 496c3-5; Phaedrus, 242b8-d2; Theaetetus, 151a2-5; Xenophon, Memorabilia, 1.1.1-5; Apology, 12-13; Symposium, 8.5). This critical-thinking counterpart of the Socratic daemon functions by tirelessly interrupting the delivery of speeches or the defense of arguments with questions about the accuracy of each assertion.

3. The ti-estifying process in action: the practical example of a possible speech-to-dialogue conversion in a case of scepticism in the philosophy of mind

Let us consider an example of a possible “ti-estifying” exercise. The following speech exemplifies a sceptical stance that dismisses one of the most famous problems in the philosophy of mind, namely, the mind-body problem, as unworthy of investigation. This dismissal is deemed inevitable due to the lack of conclusive evidence supporting any of the theories formulated in an attempt to solve the problem, from Cartesian dualism to physicalism, behaviourism, functionalism, etc. For the speaker, such a lack renders the inquiry itself futile. Here follows the speech:

For centuries, neuroscientists and philosophers of mind have investigated the relationship between mind and body, yet no definitive answer has emerged. Theories have been proposed and challenged, revised and refuted, but none has succeeded in resolving the issue once and for all: are mind and body two distinct entities or substances? If so, how do they connect to each other to the extent of causally interacting? If not, hence if the mind is identical with the body, and in particular the brain, how is it that mental activities remain not exhaustively explainable in terms of physical brain processes? Without conclusive evidence to settle the matter, the discussion of the mind-body problem is little more than an intellectual exercise with no theoretical or practical value. If no final answer is attainable, then the question itself is ultimately meaningless. Inquiry should be directed towards problems where real progress can be made, rather than lingering over speculative debates that lead nowhere.

At first glance, the argument may appear compelling, as it appeals to the idea that philosophical inquiry should be results-oriented. However, Socratic analysis reveals several flaws. Let us sketch a possible “ti-estification” of the speech in three stages:

I

Speaker: For centuries, neuroscientists and philosophers of mind have investigated the relationship between mind and body, yet no definitive answer has emerged.
Socrates: Wait, what do you mean by “investigated?”
Speaker: Well, I mean what you and I call “conducting an investigation.”
Socrates: I see, and how do you and I define “investigation?”
Speaker: We define “investigation” as a formal or systematic examination or research.
Socrates: Am I right if I say that any examination or research has to be prior to, and independent from, its leading to answers?
Speaker: What do you mean?
Socrates: Isn’t it the case that an examination or test has to take place prior to, and independently from, the results of the examinees in that same examination or test?
Speaker: Sure, it seems quite obvious.
Socrates: And isn’t it the case that any kind of research has to begin at some point, prior to, and independently from, what is going to be found by the researcher?
Speaker: Definitely so.
Socrates: Then, by definition, an investigation is such prior to, and independently from, its leading to answers.
Speaker: Fair enough. But don’t forget that an investigation as such makes sense insofar as it at least aims to find answers.
Socrates: No doubt it does. How about updating our definition as follows: an investigation is a formal or systematic examination or research aimed at finding answers?
Speaker: Sounds good to me.
Socrates: Keep going with your point.

II

Speaker: Theories have been proposed and challenged, revised and refuted, but none has succeeded in resolving the issue once and for all: are mind and body two distinct entities or substances? If so, how do they connect to each other to the extent of causally interacting? If not, hence if the mind is identical with the body, and in particular the brain, how is it that mental activities remain not exhaustively explainable in terms of physical brain processes? Without conclusive evidence to settle the matter, the discussion of the mind-body problem is little more than an intellectual exercise with no theoretical or practical value. If no final answer is attainable, then the question itself is ultimately meaningless. Inquiry should be directed towards problems where real progress can be made, rather than lingering over speculative debates that lead nowhere.
Socrates: Hold on, what do you mean by “conclusive evidence?”
Speaker: Conclusive evidence is a piece of information that, when known by the investigator, allows the investigator to draw a conclusion that must be true.
Socrates: So, say, in a crime investigation, when the detective possesses conclusive evidence of who committed the crime, they can unmistakably identify the criminal, arrest them, see them convicted in court, and therefore close the case, for it has been solved.
Speaker: Most certainly.
Socrates: I am curious, what would a piece of conclusive evidence look like in this example?
Speaker: For the sake of simplicity, let us imagine the most optimistic scenario: a video recording of the criminal, unmasked and easily recognisable, while perpetrating the crime.
Socrates: That would be every detective’s dream.
Speaker: Yes, indeed.
Socrates: But how common is it for conclusive evidence of this kind to become available in crime investigations?
Speaker: Not very common, unfortunately. Actually, I would say it is quite rare.
Socrates: Are you saying that there are crime investigations in which there is no conclusive evidence available to the detective?
Speaker: In the majority of cases, unfortunately.
Socrates: And still, such investigations lacking conclusive evidence begin in the first place?
Speaker: They do.
Socrates: Seems reasonable. In fact, we agreed that, as a kind of formal or systematic examination or research, an investigation necessarily has to be prior to, and independent from, its leading to answers.
Speaker: Fair enough.
Socrates: Isn’t it also true that some investigations lacking conclusive evidence not only begin, but also proceed, despite their lack of conclusive evidence, and even lead to the arrest of people who are considered likely to be the criminals?
Speaker: That is true.
Socrates: How come?
Speaker: Well, the people working on the case might sometimes have something else in their hands, which strongly suggests who the criminal could be.
Socrates: Are we admitting, then, that there is another kind of evidence, other than the conclusive one that guarantees the truth of a conclusion, which plays a role in suggesting a conclusion that, although not assuredly true, can be very likely?
Speaker: So it seems.
Socrates: Isn’t this second kind of evidence what we call “inconclusive evidence?”
Speaker: Yes, that is the one.
Socrates: And despite its name, it is still of some use to investigations?
Speaker: You can say so.

III

Socrates: Let us briefly recap our argument. We first found that the meaning or sense of investigations is not given by their eventual leading to answers but by their being formal or structured kinds of examination or research that, as such, have to be prior to, and independent from, their leading to answers. We then specified that investigations at least have to aim to find answers. Next, we saw that, in the best-case scenario, an investigation, on its way to finding answers, arrives at providing us with conclusive evidence that guarantees the truth of a conclusion about the case. However, this is quite a rare outcome. In many investigations, or as you said in most of them, we are only left with another kind of evidence, distinct from and undoubtedly inferior to the conclusive one that guarantees the truth of a given conclusion. We called this “inconclusive evidence” and acknowledged that, despite its inferiority, fully reflected in its name, it nonetheless plays a role in suggesting a conclusion that, although not assuredly true, can be very likely. Is this a fair reconstruction of our argument?
Speaker: It is.
Socrates: But doesn’t this disprove the point you intended to defend?
Speaker: How so?
Socrates: You argued that the meaning or sense of the investigation of the mind-body problem in philosophy of mind would be given only by its leading to an answer. Moreover, you said that, without conclusive evidence to settle the matter, the discussion of the problem is ultimately meaningless. Is this a fair rendering of what you said?
Speaker: It isn’t an unfair one.
Socrates: But in the crime investigation example, you seemed well aware of the existence of another kind of evidence, the inconclusive one, which, despite its inability to guarantee the truth of a conclusion, still plays a role in suggesting a likely one.
Speaker: I did, in fact.
Socrates: Shouldn’t we therefore conclude that the opposite of your point is true?
Speaker: What do you mean?
Socrates: The meaning or sense of the investigation of the mind-body problem in philosophy of mind is not given by its leading to an answer, since the investigation is, like all investigations, worth pursuing priorly to, and regardless of, that outcome. Moreover, the lack of conclusive evidence settling the matter does not render the discussion ultimately meaningless, since there is still room for another kind of evidence, the inconclusive one, which, despite its inability to guarantee the truth of a conclusion, can still provide valuable suggestions about likely conclusions.
Speaker: I agree with you.

The main flaw that the “ti-estifying” conversion has brought to light is the reliance on an unstated assumption or implicit premise, never explicitly articulated in the text yet fundamental in shaping the argument, namely, that only investigations yielding conclusive evidence and thus leading to a final answer are worthy of philosophical pursuit. The Socratic call to reflect on what an investigation actually is has served as a reminder that engaging in examination or research precedes, and does not depend on, what is ultimately found. Moreover, the “ti-estification” has illuminated the overlooked role of inconclusive evidence in the original speech: even if no single theory has definitively resolved the mind-body problem, each has contributed valuable insights to our understanding of consciousness, perception, and cognition. The absence of final proof does not negate the significance of the inquiry.

4. Conclusion

The practice of breaking down speeches or arguments into Socratic dialogues, which I have named “ti-estifying,” reveals its indispensable role in refining inquiry. By subjecting assertions to rigorous scrutiny, this method exposes unstated assumptions or implicit premises, hidden contradictions, unjustified biases, and poor or nonexistent understanding of the topic under discussion, compelling speakers to reassess the strength of their claims. The Socratic approach serves as a powerful intellectual safeguard against flawed reasoning.

Far from being a mere exercise in refutation, “ti-estifying” cultivates a mode of thinking that remains vigilant against unexamined statements and rhetorical complacency. It fosters a dialectical engagement in which ideas are tested, clarified, and refined, before being defended or rejected. In this sense, it is a commitment to intellectual honesty, an openness to questioning both others’ arguments and, most crucially, our own.

By reviving this Socratic discipline, we cultivate a deeper awareness of the foundations and limitations of our reasoning. The daemon of critical thinking, much like Socrates’ own, should remain an ever-present voice, disrupting complacency and urging us towards greater precision, coherence, and integrity.