The Art of Persuasion Hasn’t Changed in 2,000 Years

Поделиться
HTML-код
  • Опубликовано: 2 ноя 2024

Комментарии • 21

  • @sirisaksirisak6981
    @sirisaksirisak6981 2 года назад +4

    The Three SPA philosopher, Socrates is the teacher of Plato, Plato is the teacher of Aristotle , he gained a lot of solid knowledge and applied to present time which his 6 principles rule of human.1.Truth.2.Goodness.3.Judge equality 4.Moral.5.Aesithetic art.6.Honesty.That's a golden rule of human admind.

  • @debfitzpatrick2698
    @debfitzpatrick2698 2 года назад +3

    Fantastic, recommend listening all the way through...

  • @clementgavi7290
    @clementgavi7290 2 года назад +2

    Indeed! A part of Aristote's thought is dedicated to it. His famous Topics. Topic from 'Topos' which is the ground where are convincing arguments.
    Since dictators also can persuade, persuasion without morality and ethic can simply be an abuse of words.

  • @aryaparth-u5s
    @aryaparth-u5s Месяц назад

    really valuable

  • @jz5005
    @jz5005 2 года назад +12

    The best Harvard can do is have a robot read this?
    Art of Persuasion at work!

    • @leoesharkey1
      @leoesharkey1 2 года назад +1

      I actually thought it was a real person and their voice had been enhanced afterwards?

  • @vandanagupta9419
    @vandanagupta9419 2 года назад +5

    Very useful content, thank you for sharing!

  • @nav_man
    @nav_man 2 года назад +34

    Aristotle, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King and... you lost me at Hillary.

  • @emmanuelmatuco6248
    @emmanuelmatuco6248 Год назад +1

    (Comment 2023July 23. HBR’s youtube channel- The Art of Persuasion Hasn't Changed in 2,000 Years)
    Poem written 2023June30 by Emmanuel Matuco)
    A Journey of Kosen-rufu with Sensei Ikeda Towards 2030
    Part1- Dark Beginnings
    Pale red moon. Pitch black night.
    Cricket’s chirping
    Are they happy… or crying?
    There’s an insurmountably high mountain, engulfing my view.
    It’s so high and pitch black. Engulfing my life.
    The darkest of the dark. Blood red, the reddish of the red
    The colors of hopelessness and despair rises like a veil
    shrouding my days and nights in Agdao, Davao at the height of 1970’s darkest years.
    Every so often I’m awakened by a staccato of gunfire.
    “Who could they be chasing this time?”
    “Who was firing back?”
    “Who is killing who?”
    The gnarled slimy rough claws of fear squeezes my heart tightly
    I knew my mother was awake and silently praying
    I knew my father was awake and silently hoping
    I knew my brothers were awake.
    We’re all awake.
    All the neighborhood was awake. Listening. Waiting.
    All deathly silent.
    Even the dogs were eerily silent.
    Too afraid to bark, less the gunfire comes back.
    And as suddenly as it erupted, the echo of running gunfire,
    gradually faded into the night.
    Peaceful sleep amidst it is a daily wish.
    I longed for those peaceful days in the farm of my uncle
    when I, as a small happy boy,
    was sitting on a boulder by the river,
    watching my brothers and cousins frolicked noisily,
    watching them, a ripe guava in my hand, I munched contentedly.
    And as I looked up, the clouds above, like so many white brooms, sweep lazily
    the pure blue peaceful sky.
    And this peaceful courtyard in the heavens above, is inside a circular frame
    made up of swaying green coconut and brown green star-apple trees
    Trees that protectively surrounded us, standing tall and stoic
    lined up in both banks of the flowing green river in the middle.
    That’s gone. The peacefulness of that memory is dead.
    Part 2- Dawn
    Dead wood
    Brought back to life bouncing
    by a restless sea.
    And then I heard, Nam myoho-renge-kyo
    At the university, a teacher, a companion,
    a friend of so long ago, came by, and reminded me who I am.
    Reminded me of the vows I’ve taken in the remote past.
    Light emerged and started to dance.
    And then the light is dancing and defining
    the ragged edges of that supposedly insurmountable mountain
    Now, through the illuminated sky, I can see the mountain top.
    It seemed so high. It looms up threateningly at the onlooker.
    But it’s not unconquerable anymore. The light made it so.
    Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Oh, it's just an ordinary mountain.
    To be conquered like all other ordinary mountains.
    The illuminating lights of the daimoku made it so.
    Where once this pitiless mountain formed a wall
    of hopelessness and despair around me
    It is now radiating light and emitting an invigorating call
    “Here, over there, so many staircases to the top,
    “Come up! Hurry! Come up!
    illuminated, there I can see treasures
    the pathways of searing hope and indomitable courage.
    All the treasures my heart can hold.
    At its core- victory, leadership, happiness
    is a matter of the heart.
    In 1993, during the visit of Daisaku Ikeda Sensei
    I gave him this poem, as part of an invitation
    to my forthcoming wedding with Denise.
    Questions.
    “If I fight for humanity, how will I achieve victory?
    The truth must be behind me.
    If the truth is behind me, how will I achieve victory?
    I must have a mentor to guide me.”
    From the deep deep past, I was summoned
    Sensei summoned me.
    “What an honor given!!
    What a joy to fight again!!”
    “What is life without a mentor? Nothing.
    What is a disciple if he can’t fulfill his mentor’s dream? Eternally nothing.
    Arrogance and laziness hounds me day by day.
    The path Sensei have chosen
    Is my only sanctuary.”
    I graduated. I got a job. Good jobs. Grew a family.
    I found a life of peace.
    My family chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
    My brothers chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
    My father chanted. My mother chanted before both of them left.
    Now we all can always be together
    Eternally, at the Ceremony in the Air.
    We all found peace and happiness.
    Part 3 - Courage-filled Journey, Joyful voyage
    My life, is like a newly built ship,
    upon hearing Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, it launched itself
    Upon waves and waves of challenges, waves that were powerful and relentless
    But Sensei showed the way, led the way through the waves
    He was undaunted, so should I
    He was persevering, so should I,
    And in that journey with Sensei, I wrote this sonnet
    Of a flag, of a ship newly launched,
    sliding joyfully down Tsuneishi’s Cebu slipway
    A marching band performing.
    “Creases formed by the breeze made the flag dance
    Waving, waving at the crowd beholden
    Soulful anthem, trumpets blaring, flag, lance
    Striking, piercing the sky, emboldened
    With each musical note, and dancing crease
    earnest tales of struggles emerged, my tale
    With each tale unfurled, dancing with the breeze!
    The songs of victory converged! Hail! Hail!
    Rising up, proudly raising my arms high
    Heart skipping a beat, flushed entire with pride
    Into the waves, the ship slid, with deep sighs
    So beautiful a day, all my doubts died.
    A hero, a flag, lives in every man
    A ship for others, be hope’s rising sun”
    Southern Mindanao Soka Gakkai grew.
    Like enumerable ordinary grasses
    emerging from a dry parched soil,
    the Bodhisattvas from the Remote Past
    who responded to Sensei’s summoning, emerged.
    Unbegrudging with our lives we spread the Law and grew.
    Persevering, undaunted, like our mentor, we spread the Law and grew.
    Emerging here, emerging there, in Tungkalan, in Calinan, in all Davao
    into the peninsulas, wide valleys and coastal regions of Mindanao,
    unbegrudging with our lives, we spread the Law and grew.
    Into the vast Cotabato plains, we emerged,
    unbegrudging, we spread the Law and grew.
    With the stoic Mt. Apo watching, the Bodhisattvas of the Earth,
    summoned by Sensei, fanned out unbegrudging
    The Law spread widely, widely and vastly our numbers grew.
    And as the Law widely spread, peace and prosperity descended
    upon our people in Mindanao.
    Even in a sea so calm
    there are ripples
    waiting… to become waves
    Dawn, brought down, a bright, sparkling vista of a Bodhisattva
    emerging in every major city and town in the Mindanao regions
    spreading and emerging, unbegrudging with their lives, persevering
    Hope-filled, joy-filled, courageous and compassionate
    A strong life! A happy life for all!
    The path Sensei opened, burst forth!!
    Through the battle-riddled years,
    The 8 winds surged forth, pushing, pounding, yet we overcome.
    Dotai ishin surged forth, pushing, pounding, yet we overcome.
    Danto surged forth, pushing, pounding, yet we overcome.
    The battle from within and from without continue to rage,
    And raging, the obstacles surge again and again, never relaxing.
    Relentless, they sought
    to break the eternal bonds of mentor and disciple,
    Relentless they sought
    to break the eternal bonds of Sensei’s disciples with other disciples
    But hearts, tightly one with Sensei, were victorious! Will always be victorious!
    Magnificently victorious!
    Part4 - Convictions
    Looking forward to this journey of kosen-rufu
    with Sensei towards 2030
    I will be quoting once more,
    the closing lines of a poem I wrote as a youth before:
    “Atop these hills of Calinan
    I could see clearly now my world
    My friends, their joys and struggles
    My family, their dreams, my hopes
    my need for them and theirs for me.
    All the things that really matter- mission, compassion,
    sincerity, unity abreast with a deep love for all humanity.
    Courage behind one’s convictions.
    And friendship that is eternal.
    Yes, I’ll fear not this world. No more, no more
    I’ll climb all the hills… and mountains…
    I’ll be the soil that nourishes
    All the trees that giveth shade
    And no rocky pathways will bend again
    my fresh and buoyant steps
    For just as none can stop the grasses from growing
    Nor will my hopes die.”
    END- Emmanuel Matuco
    Thank you so much Sensei Daisaku Ikeda, for the honor and privilege you’ve given me, my family and our community of Bodhisattvas of the Earth, to be with you in this particular lifetime and world.

  • @nubius
    @nubius 2 года назад

    funny, I was just discussing this with a friend over the weekend.

  • @navanjungrewal9853
    @navanjungrewal9853 2 года назад +1

    Very interesting video!

  • @saketautee2329
    @saketautee2329 2 года назад +14

    Hillary Clinton's persuasion techniques didn't sell
    Because she lacked 'character' which Aristotle told us about

    • @olatunjijawad8109
      @olatunjijawad8109 2 года назад

      Uhm... how didn’t she show that and why do you think so??

  • @olasideeq
    @olasideeq 2 года назад

    Thank you

  • @emmanuelmatuco6248
    @emmanuelmatuco6248 Год назад

    2023 July 23 Comment - HBR youtube channel- The Art of Persuasion Hasn't Changed in 2,000 Years
    (This is an intermission, a segue, before the push to the doctrine of the 10 worlds. The previous post was 2023 July 17 in HBR’s youtube channel- What is Web3?) by Emmanuel Matuco
    Words are powerful. At one of its apexes, poetry, words can move hearts to move mountains. Add a melody to it, and words can galvanize a horde, just as national anthems do. Give it a pen and it can create worlds; it can create a past, capture the present in all its gore and glory; and create a scintillating future. Truly words are very powerful.
    If we go back to poetry and its technical evolution (apologies, its just my “just me” perspective), there are three major schools of poetry. The Japanese Haiku and branches; the European sonnet and its variations; the free verse school of the America’s (most notably for me, Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman), and the free verse of China (most notably for me, the rustic airiness of the works of the Tang Dynasty poet, Tao Qian). Free verse Chinese style straddles several schools. It’s writing (calligraphy) reaches out to the Korean and Japanese schools, while in its smoothly flowing style is reflected also in the American school. Sonnet, is a very disciplined approach regarding its syllables, quatrains, rhyme, etc. Haiku, in a way, is a sonnet taken to an extreme minimalist, bare bones form (17 syllables, and 5x7x5). Why? Probably, in order to powerfully convey and emphasize an image instead of emphasizing its sound (e.g. Basho’s frog leaping into the pond). On the other hand, one could flip the perspective and say, the European sonnet is actually a haiku with a melody. Whatever, words, melodious words, can move hearts that moves mountains.
    But there’s another evolutionary path of poetry and poets. One that moves not just mountains, but probably major world systems. Coders are poets as well. Their codes, done well, are also poems. But rather than syllables and rhymes, their codes are freed and defined by their syntax. And just as literary poetry’s words create worlds so does a coder’s codes.
    We are endowed with the creative spirit and that spirit is driving us to “create”. To be a “creator”. Every fiber of our being is driven towards that goal- to create. To create what? To create life. To create value.
    But enough for now. Let us relax before the push. Please allow me to share a recent work of mine. It is an attempt to combine all the schools of poetry, story, essay, into one. (Please see the poem posted above, as the 2nd comment on this same HBR Explainer video-)

  • @Mourinho335
    @Mourinho335 Год назад

    *Establish ur character & credibility and trust (worked with death row inmates, helped distribute vaccines, worked with charities)
    *Data, evidence & facts

  • @emmanuelmatuco6248
    @emmanuelmatuco6248 Год назад

    (Comment 2023July 23. HBR’s youtube channel- The Art of Persuasion Hasn't Changed in 2,000 Years)
    Poem written 2023June30 by Emmanuel Matuco. Please see previous comment just below in this same Explainer video.)
    A Journey of Kosen-rufu with Sensei Ikeda Towards 2030
    Part1- Dark Beginnings
    Pale red moon. Pitch black night.
    Cricket’s chirping
    Are they happy… or crying?
    There’s an insurmountably high mountain, engulfing my view.
    It’s so high and pitch black. Engulfing my life.
    The darkest of the dark. Blood red, the reddish of the red
    The colors of hopelessness and despair rises like a veil
    shrouding my days and nights in Agdao, Davao at the height of 1970’s darkest years.
    Every so often I’m awakened by a staccato of gunfire.
    “Who could they be chasing this time?”
    “Who was firing back?”
    “Who is killing who?”
    The gnarled slimy rough claws of fear squeezes my heart tightly
    I knew my mother was awake and silently praying
    I knew my father was awake and silently hoping
    I knew my brothers were awake.
    We’re all awake.
    All the neighborhood was awake. Listening. Waiting.
    All deathly silent.
    Even the dogs were eerily silent.
    Too afraid to bark, less the gunfire comes back.
    And as suddenly as it erupted, the echo of running gunfire,
    gradually faded into the night.
    Peaceful sleep amidst it is a daily wish.
    I longed for those peaceful days in the farm of my uncle
    when I, as a small happy boy,
    was sitting on a boulder by the river,
    watching my brothers and cousins frolicked noisily,
    watching them, a ripe guava in my hand, I munched contentedly.
    And as I looked up, the clouds above, like so many white brooms, sweep lazily
    the pure blue peaceful sky.
    And this peaceful courtyard in the heavens above, is inside a circular frame
    made up of swaying green coconut and brown green star-apple trees
    Trees that protectively surrounded us, standing tall and stoic
    lined up in both banks of the flowing green river in the middle.
    That’s gone. The peacefulness of that memory is dead.
    Part 2- Dawn
    Dead wood
    Brought back to life bouncing
    by a restless sea.
    And then I heard, Nam myoho-renge-kyo
    At the university, a teacher, a companion,
    a friend of so long ago, came by, and reminded me who I am.
    Reminded me of the vows I’ve taken in the remote past.
    Light emerged and started to dance.
    And then the light is dancing and defining
    the ragged edges of that supposedly insurmountable mountain
    Now, through the illuminated sky, I can see the mountain top.
    It seemed so high. It looms up threateningly at the onlooker.
    But it’s not unconquerable anymore. The light made it so.
    Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Oh, it's just an ordinary mountain.
    To be conquered like all other ordinary mountains.
    The illuminating lights of the daimoku made it so.
    Where once this pitiless mountain formed a wall
    of hopelessness and despair around me
    It is now radiating light and emitting an invigorating call
    “Here, over there, so many staircases to the top,
    “Come up! Hurry! Come up!
    illuminated, there I can see treasures
    the pathways of searing hope and indomitable courage.
    All the treasures my heart can hold.
    At its core- victory, leadership, happiness
    is a matter of the heart.
    In 1993, during the visit of Daisaku Ikeda Sensei
    I gave him this poem, as part of an invitation
    to my forthcoming wedding with Denise.
    Questions.
    “If I fight for humanity, how will I achieve victory?
    The truth must be behind me.
    If the truth is behind me, how will I achieve victory?
    I must have a mentor to guide me.”
    From the deep deep past, I was summoned
    Sensei summoned me.
    “What an honor given!!
    What a joy to fight again!!”
    “What is life without a mentor? Nothing.
    What is a disciple if he can’t fulfill his mentor’s dream? Eternally nothing.
    Arrogance and laziness hounds me day by day.
    The path Sensei have chosen
    Is my only sanctuary.”
    I graduated. I got a job. Good jobs. Grew a family.
    I found a life of peace.
    My family chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
    My brothers chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
    My father chanted. My mother chanted before both of them left.
    Now we all can always be together
    Eternally, at the Ceremony in the Air.
    We all found peace and happiness.
    Part 3 - Courage-filled Journey, Joyful voyage
    My life, is like a newly built ship,
    upon hearing Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, it launched itself
    Upon waves and waves of challenges, waves that were powerful and relentless
    But Sensei showed the way, led the way through the waves
    He was undaunted, so should I
    He was persevering, so should I,
    And in that journey with Sensei, I wrote this sonnet
    Of a flag, of a ship newly launched,
    sliding joyfully down Tsuneishi’s Cebu slipway
    A marching band performing.
    “Creases formed by the breeze made the flag dance
    Waving, waving at the crowd beholden
    Soulful anthem, trumpets blaring, flag, lance
    Striking, piercing the sky, emboldened
    With each musical note, and dancing crease
    earnest tales of struggles emerged, my tale
    With each tale unfurled, dancing with the breeze!
    The songs of victory converged! Hail! Hail!
    Rising up, proudly raising my arms high
    Heart skipping a beat, flushed entire with pride
    Into the waves, the ship slid, with deep sighs
    So beautiful a day, all my doubts died.
    A hero, a flag, lives in every man
    A ship for others, be hope’s rising sun”
    Southern Mindanao Soka Gakkai grew.
    Like enumerable ordinary grasses
    emerging from a dry parched soil,
    the Bodhisattvas from the Remote Past
    who responded to Sensei’s summoning, emerged.
    Unbegrudging with our lives we spread the Law and grew.
    Persevering, undaunted, like our mentor, we spread the Law and grew.
    Emerging here, emerging there, in Tungkalan, in Calinan, in all Davao
    into the peninsulas, wide valleys and coastal regions of Mindanao,
    unbegrudging with our lives, we spread the Law and grew.
    Into the vast Cotabato plains, we emerged,
    unbegrudging, we spread the Law and grew.
    With the stoic Mt. Apo watching, the Bodhisattvas of the Earth,
    summoned by Sensei, fanned out unbegrudging
    The Law spread widely, widely and vastly our numbers grew.
    And as the Law widely spread, peace and prosperity descended
    upon our people in Mindanao.
    Even in a sea so calm
    there are ripples
    waiting… to become waves
    Dawn, brought down, a bright, sparkling vista of a Bodhisattva
    emerging in every major city and town in the Mindanao regions
    spreading and emerging, unbegrudging with their lives, persevering
    Hope-filled, joy-filled, courageous and compassionate
    A strong life! A happy life for all!
    The path Sensei opened, burst forth!!
    Through the battle-riddled years,
    The 8 winds surged forth, pushing, pounding, yet we overcome.
    Dotai ishin surged forth, pushing, pounding, yet we overcome.
    Danto surged forth, pushing, pounding, yet we overcome.
    The battle from within and from without continue to rage,
    And raging, the obstacles surge again and again, never relaxing.
    Relentless, they sought
    to break the eternal bonds of mentor and disciple,
    Relentless they sought
    to break the eternal bonds of Sensei’s disciples with other disciples
    But hearts, tightly one with Sensei, were victorious! Will always be victorious!
    Magnificently victorious!
    Part4 - Convictions
    Looking forward to this journey of kosen-rufu
    with Sensei towards 2030
    I will be quoting once more,
    the closing lines of a poem I wrote as a youth before:
    “Atop these hills of Calinan
    I could see clearly now my world
    My friends, their joys and struggles
    My family, their dreams, my hopes
    my need for them and theirs for me.
    All the things that really matter- mission, compassion,
    sincerity, unity abreast with a deep love for all humanity.
    Courage behind one’s convictions.
    And friendship that is eternal.
    Yes, I’ll fear not this world. No more, no more
    I’ll climb all the hills… and mountains…
    I’ll be the soil that nourishes
    All the trees that giveth shade
    And no rocky pathways will bend again
    my fresh and buoyant steps
    For just as none can stop the grasses from growing
    Nor will my hopes die.”
    END- Emmanuel Matuco
    Thank you so much Sensei Daisaku Ikeda, for the honor and privilege you’ve given me, my family and our community of Bodhisattvas of the Earth, to be with you in this particular lifetime and world.

  • @happyandhealthy888
    @happyandhealthy888 Год назад

    aging myths before 2000 years and momentum on that topic in 2023!!!

  • @happyandhealthy888
    @happyandhealthy888 Год назад

    and influence on today´s genetics

  • @randipujalaksana6570
    @randipujalaksana6570 2 года назад

    🌹🌹🌹