This post explores the intersection of vocation and rhetoric, emphasizing the role of pathos in education and personal development. It discusses how emotional engagement fosters vocational discernment and inspires students to connect deeply with their aspirations. The author highlights the importance of creating inclusive spaces for storytelling and critical reflection on social issues.
A series of posts on the relationship between vocation and rhetoric, focusing on how ethos, logos, pathos, and mythos offer a fresh perspective for creatives, educators, and scholars to conceptualize their professional and personal callings.
Pathos has always been a powerful force in my vocation as an educator and scholar. It serves as a bridge between logic and human experience, allowing us to connect with others on a deeper emotional level. In my view, pathos is not merely an emotional appeal but an essential component of how we discern our callings and live with purpose.
This content explores the relationship between vocation and rhetoric, emphasizing the importance of logos in vocational reasoning. It discusses how educators can use critical thinking to guide students towards ethical decision-making and align their career aspirations with communal values, ultimately inspiring them to become agents of positive change.
A series of posts on the relationship between vocation and rhetoric, focusing on how ethos, logos, pathos, and mythos offer a fresh perspective for creatives, educators, and scholars to conceptualize their professional and personal callings.
As one of the three classical rhetorical appeals, logos often takes a backseat to ethos and pathos in discussions of vocation, but it is no less critical in shaping how we understand and teach vocational exploration and discernment. Logos refers not only to the logical structure of an argument; it also represents the reasoning that underpins our actions, the ethical implications embedded within that reasoning, and the ways we encourage others to think critically about the world. In vocational exploration, logos plays a distinctive role as the intellectual backbone that helps us discern our callings and align them with both reason and purpose.
Rhetorician Edwin Black offers a useful framework to understand how persuasive discourse creates identities and worldviews. In his 1970 landmark essay, “The Second Persona,” he argues that a rhetor’s discourse appeals to an ideal audience—one that embodies the values, beliefs, and habits conveyed through the discourse itself. For Black, logos’s appeal draws on more than the intrinsic logic of its arguments; it constructs a particular kind of reasoning that shapes how people think, act, and engage with the world.
Edwin Black, copyright University of Wisconsin Board of Regents.
As part of my dissertation research, I used Black’s second persona theory to analyze Joel Osteen’s discourse and examined hundreds of his sermons and books, interviews with him spanning decades, and his extensive social media presence. Through this lens, I identified the characteristics of the “ideal” audience Osteen envisions—individuals whose consciousness centers on wealth, health, and relationships. Osteen’s rhetoric constructs a worldview that prioritizes personal success in these areas while deliberately avoiding engagement with racial justice movements like Black Lives Matter or diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives within higher education—a tension that both readers and writers of this blog care about in terms of its impact on vocation.
Reflecting on this analysis, I am struck by Black’s insight that the rhetorical dimensions of an argument can actually produce an audience—shaping not only identities but also actions. This principle resonates in the classroom, where the logos of my teaching inevitably influences the type of people my students become. The reasoning I present in my courses—whether through discussions of ethical communication or explorations of social justice—serves as a model for how students might engage with the world. In this way, appeals to logos help us do more than just craft compelling arguments; logos allows us to construct and use reasoning that aligns with communal values and inspires action.
For educators, the challenge lies in examining how our appeals to logos—and our systems and frameworks for reasoning—shape the way students think about vocation. Are we teaching them to prioritize personal gain, or are we guiding them to consider how their skills and knowledge can serve others? I often open class discussions by posing questions that encourage self-reflection: “What logic drives your decisions? Is it rooted in love, compassion, and justice, or does it reflect the values of a society that often prioritizes material success over the well-being of others?” These conversations help students explore the reasoning behind their aspirations and consider how their vocational goals align with a broader sense of purpose.
When I think about my role as an educator within the classroom, I consider how the logic I present shapes my students’ vocational journeys. In my public speaking course, for instance, I encourage students to think critically about the arguments they construct and the reasoning that drives their presentations. I ask them to engage with real-world issues, such as climate change or income inequality, and to develop speeches that not only inform but also propose actionable solutions. These assignments challenge students to connect the logic of their ethical reasoning to their emerging vocations, asking them, “What kind of impact do you want your words and actions to have on the world?”
In my public relations courses, I guide students through campaigns where logos becomes the foundation of their strategies. I often task them with designing a public awareness campaign for a nonprofit organization. This requires them to research the issue, analyze the needs of their audience, and craft a clear, compelling argument that inspires action. For example, one group designed a campaign for a local food bank, combining statistics about food insecurity with emotionally resonant stories from community members. This exercise teaches students that logos is not merely about data or facts, but involves constructing a coherent and ethical argument that responds to the world’s hunger and aligns with their values and contributes to the common good.
Students also benefit from exercises that explicitly connect logos to vocation. In one activity, I ask my students to write a “vocational argument,” where they articulate their career goals and the reasoning behind them. I require them to identify the values that underpin their aspirations and explain how their chosen path contributes to the common good. One student, for example, shared that her experiences volunteering at a domestic violence shelter inspired her to pursue a career in law. Her argument was grounded in a clear and logical connection between her empathy, values, and advocacy—her sense of justice—and her vocational goals. This kind of exercise not only sharpens students’ reasoning skills but also deepens their understanding of how logos can guide their decision-making.
As educators, we also have a responsibility to model logos in our own vocational practices. The logic of our teaching—that is, the arguments we make, the reasoning we employ, and the values we prioritize—shapes the kinds of vocations our students pursue. I often reflect on the metaphor of the shepherd, guiding those who follow. Just as a shepherd’s actions determine the path of the flock, our logos has a profound impact on the ethical and intellectual paths our students take. This awareness reminds me to approach my teaching with intentionality, ensuring that the reasoning I present is aligned with an ethos of love and transformation.
When combined with ethos, logos has the power to create a profound and lasting impact. While ethos represents the character and credibility of the speaker—what we might think of as vocational identity—logos provides the framework that allows us to articulate our values and translate them into action—or our vocational pursuits. Together, these appeals form the foundation of our vocational work, shaping not only what we teach but also how we teach it.
In my experience, fostering a strong sense of logos in the classroom means encouraging students to think critically about the reasoning that drives their decisions and to align that reasoning with their values. It also means providing opportunities for students to connect their logic to real-world applications, whether through speeches, campaigns, or reflective writing. By doing so, we equip them to navigate the complexities of the modern world with clarity, purpose, and integrity.
Ultimately, logos not only involves the arguments we make; it also represents values and assumptions that underpin those arguments and the kind of individuals they inspire. Our vocational journeys as educators require us to do more than transmit knowledge; we also shape the reasoning and values of those we teach. By aligning our logos with an ethos of love and justice, we can guide our students toward becoming thoughtful, ethical agents of positive change in a world that desperately needs them.
Reginald Bell, Jr., is an assistant professor of strategic communication and public relations at Monmouth College in Monmouth, Illinois. A third-generation clergyman, he was honored and humbled to deliver a TED Talk at Knox College in March 2024 titled “The Money is in the Hogs.” He first learned about NetVUE after attending seminars on vocation on his campus in 2024. For other posts by Reginald, click here.
The post examines the connection between vocation and rhetoric, particularly focusing on the concept of ethos. Reginald Bell, Jr. reflects on his father’s influence on his ethos, contrasting it with modern religious figures promoting materialism. He emphasizes the importance of an ethos rooted in love and encourages educators and students to embody this kind of ethos as a way to foster positive societal change.
This post is the first in a series of four that explores the relationship between vocation and rhetoric, focusing on how ethos, logos, pathos, and mythos offer a fresh perspective for creatives, educators, and scholars to conceptualize their professional and personal callings.
Reginald Bell, Jr.
In February 2020, I found myself in the pulpit in Phoenix, Arizona, ready to deliver the message of a three-night revival. My father—a significant influence in my life and vocation—had flown in with my mother from Birmingham, Alabama, to support me and to introduce me on the revival’s second night. Among the many things he said during his introduction, one statement resonated deeply and has stayed with me ever since. “My son’s biggest problem his entire life,” he said, “is that he always thought he was me, Reginald Bell, Sr.”
This statement reflects more than our father-son dynamic; it also represents how ethos is transmitted, often subconsciously, from one generation to the next. It made me ponder how much my father has shaped my own ethos, and how, as educators, our ethos invariably influences those we teach.
Last semester, our communication studies department came to realize fully what we had known for years: vocation exploration is something that can and should be done in community. Inspired by our current NetVUE work, we have committed to extending our vocation conversations beyond regular advisement and an occasional instructional nod to using vocation as a primary dialogue topic in several classes in our major and minor.
Major Decisions, Major Discoveries: Exploring Vocation in the Undergraduate Years, a series of posts from Nebraska Wesleyan University about helping students develop meaning and purpose as part of their major coursework
“I was amazed that something so personal like exploring my ‘purpose’ or ‘meaning’ in a group could feel so right.”
NWU communication studies student
Last semester, our communication studies department came to realize fully what we had known for years: vocation exploration is something that can and should be done in community. Inspired by our current NetVUE work, we have committed to extending our vocation conversations beyond regular advisement and an occasional instructional nod to using vocation as a primary dialogue topic in several classes in our major and minor. Our department’s guiding principle is inspired by W. Barnett Pearce and Vernon Cronen’s “Coordinated Management of Meaning,” which posits that we create meaning and manage our social reality in community. “What are we creating together?” is emblazoned on our brochures and syllabi and even stenciled on our walls as a reminder that we co-construct our environment—we have agency over and responsibility for our co-created relationships. Our students resonate so deeply with this principle that a recent graduate decorated her mortar board with it.
Book history, in ways that I believe can be deeply meaningful for our students, explores the happy if constrained juxtaposition of creative pleasure and material necessity.
As an English teacher, I’m always attuned to language and its implications. The language of vocation tends to be a language of opportunity: to grow and flourish, to move forward, to make life-defining choices. Correspondingly, the imagery is of doors opening, of young people silhouetted against a sun-drenched landscape, their backs to us as they move forward into the radiant future. Both this language and imagery signal individualism, which is also present in my college’s exhortation to students to pursue their own “unique career path.” All this is certainly sensible: we want students to have a path to follow when they leave us, and to thrive and find fulfilment in the wider world. But in my interactions with students about the broad issue of vocational discernment, I find myself emphasizing the language not of opportunity but of constraint. Counterintuitive as it may seem, being explicit about how life choices are constrained by responsibilities to others and by factors out of our control can offer students a more robust framework for thinking about how to move forward.
Since the Lutheran mission of my college is vestigial, and since my students rarely have much formation in the concept of vocation, I don’t usually raise questions about discernment directly in the classroom. I do, however, teach a course on book history—the material lives of texts—that I have found a useful place to engage students in reflection about how they want their education and their lives to matter.
We may need to rethink the cadence of our exchanges with students. Our professorial emails are not just about getting stuff done. We are also preparing students for discourse with coworkers, supervisors, and clients.
I remember in the fall of 2020 hearing our provost say, “Overcommunication with students will be a must this semester.” He was thinking about the challenges of remote learning. But isn’t overcommunication just what professors do? Our over-long syllabi aside, we’re always crafting top-heavy email invitations for semesters of meaningful work. Pressing “send” on over-communication gives us a satisfaction akin to what Shakespeare must have felt completing Sonnet 116.
And then, we receive our first email from a student: “Hey prof thx the class will be dank idk is textbk in or do u class need it?!?”
Humanism’s approach of emphasizing relationship, strengths, and human potential make it a particularly useful framework for undergraduate mentoring relationships that foster vocational discernment.
Any relationship can be therapeutic, according to Carl Rogers (1902-1987). In psychology there are many theoretical approaches to counseling and various clinical techniques. The common factor among all effective therapies is the working relationship between the two parties. In higher education there are numerous opportunities for building rewarding relationships with students and colleagues. Humanism’s approach of emphasizing relationship, strengths, and human potential make it a particularly useful framework for undergraduate mentoring relationships that foster vocational discernment.
