THE STRUCTURE OF AN ARGUMENT OR TWO

Let me share with you a simple argument.  It is not a particularly good argument, but it will demonstrate the elements of a sound one.  In doing so, the illustration will point out certain skills one should develop if one aspires to construct and express a defensible argument.  It goes as follows:

Since Johnny was born in Italy, he is therefore a Roman Catholic because eighty percent of Italians belong to the Catholic religion according to the latest census and reported on Wikipedia (81.2%), unless Johnny happens to be in the twenty percent of the population that is non Catholic and assuming Johnny is a human being and not, say, a cat or a dog.

Here’s another one:

Jane smokes marijuana; therefore she will end up being addicted to serious drugs such as heroin because the vast majority of addicted people at one time smoked marijuana as numerous surveys of addicted people reveal, unless Jane does not live to “graduate” to harder drugs and supposing that she is not subject to arrest or a drug rehabilitation program.

The first argument is sound, but does not convey anything meaningful.  The second is not sound, but does convey a meaningful message.  The soundness of each has to do with the reasonableness of inclusion within the structure of the argument.  Training in syllogistic reasoning assists one in seeing this inclusion.  So, by stating that 80% of the population of Italy is Catholic and qualifying the argument that Johnny could be part of the 20% that is non Catholic, therefore the entire population of Italy is included.  But in the second argument, when one states that just about all hard drug-takers began his or her use of illicit drugs by consuming marijuana, one is not totally inclusive.  For example, how many hard drug-takers drank milk or soda pop before taking hard drugs?  Probably as many, if not more, than smoked marijuana.  Yet no one would argue that drinking milk or soda leads to a heroin addiction.  But we have all heard this argument – linking marijuana smoking and hard drug use – and without much reflection, we have accepted the conclusion that marijuana smoking will result in acquiring a hard drug addiction.

So, there are skills in building a sound and meaningful argument.  And if one not only wants to convince others of a point of view, but also to assure oneself and others that the point of view is true, one needs to develop certain skills.  What are these skills?  A dissection of a sound argument reveals what those skills are.  Therefore, let’s use the above, albeit meaningless, sound argument to point out those skills.

Stephen Toulmin[1] provides a model for argument structure that is helpful in this endeavor.  The first argument begins with a factual statement:  Johnny was born in Italy.  Toulmin calls this a datum statement.  The skill involved with this first stage is to make sure that the statement is actually true.  Journalists work with factual statements all the time.  These statements are the what, when, where, how, and how many statements.  Before accepting a factual claim, they need to hear it from two separate sources unless the substance of the claim is personally viewed or otherwise perceived by the journalist.  This viewing can be from some recording device that is judged to be free from tampering.  Whether that is sufficient or not is a matter of judgment, but as a requirement, it demonstrates a concern over the truthfulness of any such claims.

Using reason, facts can lead to some conclusions.  For example, Johnny is a Roman Catholic is deduced from the fact that Johnny was born in Italy.  Using syllogistic reasoning, the fact – Italian born – would be a minor premise (such as the standard example:  Socrates is a man).  In Toulmin’s model, the fact leads to a conclusion:  Johnny is Catholic.  But that’s a big jump; one needs some connector statement to make such a conclusion reasonable.  Toulmin calls that sort of statement a warrant statement (in a syllogism it would be a major premise).  In my simple argument, that would be 80% of Italians are Catholic (in the standard example:  All men are mortal).  The reasoning of inclusion from the syllogistic model goes as follows:  All men are mortal (major premise), Socrates is a man (minor premise); therefore, Socrates is mortal (conclusion).  But Toulmin’s model arranges the argument in a different order and adds a few more elements.  To begin with, the warrant statement (or major premise) is supported with backing statements (according to the latest census and reported on Wikipedia).  I should add here that in both syllogistic argument and in using Toulmin’s model, major premises and warrant statements are called for whereas in everyday arguing they are mostly assumed.  This assumption leads to faulty dialogue – see my last posting.  In addition, the conclusion, in Toulmin’s model, is qualified by the use of an “unless” statement (Johnny is part of the 20% that is non Catholic) and a reservation (assuming Johnny is human and not a dog, for example).  All of these elements add richness to the argument and make the argument complete and more apt to be truthful.  But adding all of these elements is the result of someone exerting effort and employing skills:  the skills of finding truthful factual statements, the skill of deducing from the facts a logical and meaningful conclusion, the skill of tying the facts to the conclusion with a powerful enough warrant that justifies the connection between the facts and conclusion, the skill of identifying the backing information that validates the warrant statement, and the skill of including the necessary qualifiers and reservations that prevent an overstatement – unjustified inclusion – beyond the parameters of the conclusion.

If one applies such skills to the issue addressed in the second argument above, perhaps one can more meaningfully derive the conclusions that would help us resolve the drug problems of this nation.  Such argumentation is not easy, especially when one is not merely attempting persuasion, but is attempting to derive the truth.

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[1] Toulmin, Stephen.  (1969).  The uses of argument.  London:  Cambridge University Press.

DIALOGUE

With this posting, I conclude describing and explaining the five disciplines I deem to be essential in productive argumentation – productive, that is, along federalist values.  To sum up:  I have borrowed from Philip Selznick’s[1] “five pillars of reason” to devise this set of disciplines.  My intent is to encourage educators – and other interested parties – to see argumentation from two perspectives:  one, the typical view of argumentation as a means of convincing others of a point of view; and two, as a process that can be used to seek the truth.  These disciplines, when combined with relevant skills, can be utilized in classroom instruction as a means of having students conduct inquiries over issues, especially if those issues are spurred by concern over federalism.[2]  To date, the disciplines reviewed have been order, principle, experience, and prudence.  This posting will look at dialogue.

When considering prudence, one point highlighted was the concern over the ends of arguments; that is, when considering a contested point of policy or view, one should be cognizant of the ends the argued means are meant to target.  Oftentimes, ends seem to be assumed; many times, those assumptions differ in that the ends they represent differ.  We can often detect these variances by the language each side uses.  For example, in the debate over abortion, one side will use terminology that speaks of the killing of babies.  The other side does not counter this reference directly; instead it will speak of a woman’s right to control her body.  Neither side directly contradicts the other’s claim because such language gets to the ends of the argument.  The anti-abortion side has as its unstated ends its desire to please a deity.  The other sees this battle as one prong in the war for women’s equality.  Instead of getting into all that, argument tends to avoid such “messy” aspects and just assumes, in its arguments that its ends are above reproach.

But it is here that participants should argue and they should do so through dialogue.  We engage in such dialogue not necessarily to secure agreement.  We engage in this process to seek truth by seeing other perspectives, other trains of logic, and other instances of devout and honest commitment.  It humanizes those with whom we disagree and it does so not by avoiding strenuous debate and passionate exchanges but by engaging in them.  That is part of it:  the passion, the emotions, and the rhetoric.  And yet, we can do all of this with civility.  But civility presupposes a general environment of basic trust that those with whom we disagree are honest, generally moral, and pursuant of the common good.  Therefore, we can’t have dialogue – not of the type described here – with everyone.  As a matter of fact, dialogue, while it can be attempted in usual argumentation, will probably occur infrequently.  Why?  We don’t live in a society in which federalist values are generally seen as ideal.  But this does not preclude us from holding them collectively – or even individually – as an ideal that we can strive toward.  And so, one so disposed, can seek dialogue, attempt it, and engage in it whenever possible.

But even if dialogue were readily experienced, this does not mean such argumentation will lead to agreement.  Some opposing ends have been with us since the beginnings of civilized life, if not before.  It would lead, though, to greater understanding, empathy, and respect among us all.

Although the risks are real, there is a place for the prophetic spirit, for passion and rhetoric, in communicative inquiry.  Without confrontation, unspoken assumptions may never be truly exposed to criticism and debate.  People may not really listen.[3]

And what of the demands of the classroom?  How does this dialogue work there?  The classroom can prove to be a very demanding area.  First, students are a captive audience.  What is presented to them is mostly not of their choosing.  A process that relies to any degree on argumentation, much less the process I am suggesting, needs to be cautiously approached.  Arguments over ends – what is usually treated as assumed contentions – will come to a screeching halt if the appropriate build up is not laid out.  Premature attempts at such arguments can easily devolve into shouting matches.  If that happens, those who will cease to listen will be the students who are sitting before the teacher who is attempting to promote such dialogue.

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[1] Selznick, P.  (1992).  The moral commonwealth:  Social theory and the promise of community.  Berkeley, CA:  University of California Press.

[2] For those new to this blog, the blog is, in part, dedicated to promoting a mental construct in the guidance of curricular content in the subject matter of civics.  That mental construct I entitle federation theory.  The accompanying remarks introducing the postings of this blog gives the reader an overall description of what federation theory is.

[3] Ibid., p. 62.