ISSA Proceedings 2002 – Beyond Amnesia And Critical Thinking: Forensics And Argument Pedagogy

• by: David Frank - University of Oregon & Michelle Bolduc - University of Arizona

David Zarefsky rightly observed in his 1994 Presidential address to the Speech Communication Association that the disciplines within the fields of rhetoric, speech, and communication bearing most “directly on public affairs, the study of argumentation and debate” are treated as an “intellectual backwater” by the larger fields[i]. Zarefsky also observed that scholars in argumentation and debate have defined their field with such “insularity” that they fail to provide much insight into public controversy.
Zarefsky’s ultimate purpose in his address was to encourage a focus on public deliberation, an objective we believe scholars of argumentation should make a priority. In this paper, we follow Michael Bartanen in considering the diachronic movement of American intercollegiate forensics and argumentation pedagogy to consider why Zarefesky’s observation has come to pass[ii]. In so doing, we set forth two reasons why argumentation and debate are treated as backwater disciplines and why scholars of argumentation and forensics, in turn, have failed to bridge their theories and instruction to philosophical and pedagogical movements that would place greater value on the need for instruction in argument.
First, we consider the neglect of argumentation and forensics in the standard history of the American discipline. The development of American argument pedagogy and the origins of the speech and rhetoric discipline can be traced to the emergence of intercollegiate forensics[iii]. This history is forgotten in the larger disciplines. We believe this history needs rectification if forensics and argumentation pedagogy are to receive the respect they deserve. Second, forensic educators have aligned their concerns with “critical thinking” and scientific reasoning at the expense of a much larger vision of reason and purpose. We believe that the work of Chaim Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca in their 1958 article “Concerning Temporality as a Characteristic of Argumentation” establishes a blueprint for both forensics and argumentation pedagogy that would move both fields beyond their insularity[iv]. Read more

ISSA Proceedings 2002 – The Pragmatic Dimension Of Premise Acceptability

• by: James B. Freeman - Hunter College of The City University of New York

We hold that one factor determining whether or not a premise is acceptable is its cost, more precisely the cost of taking that statement as a premise.This thesis requires some clarification.When critically evaluating an argument purportedly giving us good reason to accept its conclusion, we are taking the role of a challenger in a simple dialectical exchange. The person who put forward the argument is the proponent. His role is to advance an initial claim together with reasons discharging the burden of proof making that claim itself incurs together with any burdens raised the by subsequent premises he puts forward or questions of their adequacy to support the conclusion he alleges they support. Our role as challengers is to raise those questions, to point out that there are specific burdens to be discharged or questions to be answered. We may do this overtly, if we are in a critical conversation with the proponent, or implicitly, should we be considering the proponent’s argumentation in the form of an argument as product. Here we note what burdens have been raised and whether they have been discharged. This dialectical exchange is an example of what Walton calls an asymmetrical persuasion dialogue. See (1989, pp. 11-12).
The question for us as challengers then is whether from our perspective a claim which the proponent has advanced raises a burden of proof or whether there is a presumption for it. We judge this from our perspective, since our awareness of the dialectical situation on the whole gives us information relevant to determining this issue. For example, we may be aware that a proponent’s claim is a matter of personal testimony or expert opinion in an area where the proponent has expertise. We may not be aware of any reason to hold that the proponent’s competence is questionable in this case – that he may be deceived by a perceptual illusion or that his recent scientific work has been criticized for sloppiness – or that his integrity is compromised, such as his speaking from vested interest. Depending on the statement the proponent is putting forward, such information may be germane to recognizing rightly whether we should recognize a presumption for the proponent’s claim or whether we may rightly ask him to provide evidence for it. Read more

ISSA Proceedings 2002 – Intractable Quarrels

• by: Richard Friemann - York University

1. Introduction
Logical tradition defines the term ‘argument’ quite narrowly. Copi’s definition is well known: “An argument, in the logician’s sense, is any group of propositions of which one is claimed to follow from the others, which are regarded as providing support or grounds for the truth of that one” (Copi, 1994, 5). Immediately following this definition he says, “Of course, the word “argument” is often used in other senses, but in logic it has the sense just explained” (Copi, 1994, 5). In whatever other senses the word ‘argument’ can be used, for the layperson, an argument, typically, “is a conflictual experience charged with emotion where opposing beliefs, desires and/or attitudes are involved” (Gilbert, 1997, 32). It is this sense of argument, what Gilbert calls the “Ordinary View”, that many Informal Logicians have chosen to exclude in their definition of argument. Indeed, some Informal Logicians try to make it clear what they mean by their definition of argument by explicitly contrasting it with what they call a ‘quarrel’, ‘fight’, or ‘dispute’. For example, (Govier, 2001, 4); (Diestler, 2001, 3-4); (Levi, 1991, 25-27); (Fogelin, 1987, vii); (Thomas, 1986, 10); (Missimer, 1986, 6); (Cederblom & Paulsen, 1982, 1); (Fearnside, 1980, 4); and (Shurter & Pierce, 1966, xii).
In contrast to this “Dialectical view” of argument held by Informal Logicians, the “Rhetorical view” as conceived by Gilbert (1997, 34) includes the quarrel as a type of argument. The inclusion of the quarrel into the realm of argument for Argumentation Theory has been made easier by the work of Communication Theorists, in particular, by Daniel J. O’Keefe’s (1977) distinction between argument1 and argument2. Arguments1 are products which people make, while arguments2 are social interactions which people have. With the recognition of arguments2, quarrels became almost, but not quite, a legitimate subject of study for Argumentation Theory. There was still the troublesome question of emotion. At the end of O’Keefe’s paper he raises (but does not try to answer) some important questions about arguments1 and arguments2. One question is whether or not quarrels are “genuine” arguments2. The issue here is that we well might hold that “an argument2 necessarily involves the exchange of arguments1 and counterarguments1” (O’Keefe, 1977, 127). If there are no arguments1 exchanged in an argument2, then all that is occurring is the (typically) heated expression of emotion. And it was not obvious that in such a situation an argument, in any sense, was taking place. In Wayne Brockriede’s (1977, 129) response to O’Keefe’s question, he states “Although persons can make arguments without engaging in the process of arguing, I do not see how they can argue without making arguments.” Read more

ISSA Proceedings 2002 – The Genealogy Of Argumentation

• by: Gilbert Fulmer - Southwest Texas State University

Where did argumentation come from? That is, how and why is it that we can reason? There are at least two questions here, and I will have something to say about each. The first question is, how does it come to be that there are such things as valid arguments? In other words, what is the origin of logic itself? The second question is, how did human beings develop the ability to understand and use that logic? The first of these questions is itself a logical one; the second is largely empirical. My comments on the first, the origin of logic itself, will be essentially negative: I will argue that those thinkers who claim logic is supernaturally created must be mistaken. My arguments here follow closely the reasoning of Plato, who showed that morality cannot be dependent on divine command. On the second question, how human beings came to be able to reason, I will draw on the work of evolutionary psychologists of the past couple of decades, to show the outline of a naturalistic explanation of how this ability might have been acquired.

1.
Some might imagine that logical validity itself was divinely created. The idea that God created logic might seem reasonable to those who believe that God created the whole Universe. If one believes that he created everything, why not believe that he created logic as well? But this notion involves a logical confusion. Suppose that there is a supernatural creating agent – though I have argued elsewhere that this concept is also logically incoherent. (Fulmer, 1977). And suppose that this agent undertakes to create logic – that is, to make it true that certain arguments are valid.
A valid argument, of course, is one such that if its premises are true then its conclusion must also be true. So our hypothetical supernatural creating agent would have to make it the case that if the premises of these arguments are true then their conclusions would be true. In the argument form known as modus ponens, it is argued that:
If p, then q; and p; therefore q. Read more

ISSA Proceedings 2002 – Is There A Topical Dimension To The Rhetorical Example?

• by: Jonas Gabrielsen - Copenhagen Business School

1. Introduction
Everybody who has an interest in (rhetorical) argumentation knows that examples play a decisive part in human persuasion. Few types of arguments are so common and versatile as the example, which is emphasized especially by the fact that we meet examples both in the context of genuine rational argumentation (logos) as well as in emotionally directed persuasion, where they can be used even in relation to both the audience (pathos) and the speaker (ethos)(for ethos see Garver 1994: 152-162). Thus the example recurrently appears to be a crucial effect, which functions are difficult to ignore – whether the focus is narrow argumentatorical or broad rhetorical.
I will, however, in this paper narrow down the focus and solely discuss the various  rational functions of the example, i.e. the genuine argumentative functions held by the example. At this point it should be noted that this focus does not imply that the emotive functions of the example are secondary compared to the rational, or that I, in any way, understand the rational functions of the example to be basic functions, to which the emotive functions of the example can be reduced. When I focus on the rational functions of the example it is due to the observation that a too narrow comprehension of the example seems to prevail; a comprehension which causes that a particular function of example, which I shall term the topical function, is often mixed up with other functions of the example or overlooked.

One explanation to this narrow comprehension of the example – however, not further discussed in this paper – appears to be found in the way the example is traditionally addressed. In the majority of approaches to the example, the example seems primarily to be uncovered and defined in respect to its method rather than its function; the focus is primarily set on  the way in which examples do what they do and only secondarily on what they do. Examples of this approach can be found in the typical literary comprehension of the example, in which the example is primarily defined through a demarcation to other figures of speech based on comparison, such as analogy or metaphor. The primary focus is that there is a difference between an example’s narrative form of comparison and an analogy’s discursive form of comparison, or that the example diverges from the metaphor because it generally holds an explicit marker of comparison, which results in a decreased interest in the overall function of these comparative mechanisms. What do they do? A similar focus on method can be seen also in the traditional logical and rhetorical approaches to the example, though in a slightly different manner. In the majority of these approaches the focus is not on example qua example, but rather example qua induction, which directs the interest towards the methodological differences between genuine induction and generalization based on examples. In this approach too, the way in which examples do what they do and not what they do becomes the primary focus. It is clarified that the example yields generalization in a different manner, not if the example holds other functions than generalization. Read more

ISSA Proceedings 2002 – Adapted Arguments: Logic And Rhetoric In The Age Of Genes And Hardwired Brains

• by: Eric M. Gander - Baruch College, CUNY

It is said that the Greek philosopher Diogenes once sought to prove that the apparently unique capacity of humans to engage in logical reasoning was not really special to humans alone. His proof relied on an observation about hunting dogs. On the hunt, such dogs may have occasion to come to a fork in the road. When they do, they stop and sniff one of the two paths in the road. If they do not pick up the scent on that path, they immediately turn and run down the other path, without stopping to sniff it. Diogenes asserted that these beasts were “reasoning” as follows:
P or Q
not P
therefore Q

Dogs may indeed have a rudimentary capacity to engage in what we call logical reasoning – even if they could not recognize the above case as an example of modus tollendo ponens. But that, pace Diogenes, is really the point. No animal other than humans can engage in abstract logical reasoning. No animal other than humans can think in terms of Ps and Qs, or conditionals, or negations, or inference rules. Until recently, it was assumed that when humans engaged in logical reasoning, we were engaging that specific part of the brain that enables us to solve abstract logic problems like the ones found in textbooks on formal logic. To be sure, emotions or passions surrounding a particular situation might “cloud” our logical reasoning processes and make it difficult for us to come to a logical conclusion about a particular matter. But neither the emotions surrounding a situation, nor any other concrete aspect of the situation, could change the actual reasoning process that we used. In short, it was assumed that humans come equipped with one all-purpose reasoning mechanism in our brain, and that we utilize only that particular mechanism when we reason about anything.
But that may be wrong. Recent research by evolutionary psychologists seems to indicate that humans “reason” dramatically differently – and better – when we are “processing” a social exchange situation that is open to the possibility of cheating (see Cosmides and Tooby 1992a). The point is not that the rules of formal logic do not apply to such situations. The point is that humans do not automatically apply the rules of formal logic to such situations. Indeed, we automatically apply other rules – probably located in another part of our brains – to those situations alone. This is fortunate however, because the human capacity to reason in general is (as I said) relatively poor when compared to our capacity to “reason” about social exchange situations in which we ourselves or others can be cheated. Read more