Thank You for Arguing

Heinrichs can no longer beat his son George in arm wrestling. However, Heinrichs could beat George even after George became stronger than he, because he knew the right kind of grip. In arguments, definitions are like the “grip” in an arm wrestle—by defining ideas in the right way, one gains an advantage in the ensuing argument.

Ancient rhetoricians listed several approaches to argument. First, one should cite facts to bolster one’s point. If the facts didn’t prove the point, however, one could redefine the terms instead. If redefining terms didn’t work, one could still accept one’s opponent’s facts and terms and just argue that the opponent’s arguments weren’t as important as they seemed to be. Finally, one could claim that the argument was irrelevant. In short, the ancients laid out four strategies of descending importance: fact, definition, quality, and relevance. Each strategy is a fallback for the one before it (for example, relevance is the weakest strategy, since it risks seeming petty).

Often, the best way to define a term is to re-define it. By proposing your own definition, even if you agree with your opponent’s definition, you’ll seem agreeable while “cutting the legs out” from under your opponent’s argument. There are other times, however, when it can be useful to accept an opponent’s definition—a form of concession that allows you to turn your opponent’s arguments against him in an elegant way. For example, when someone tries to insult you for being an “egghead,” it might be funny and argumentatively advantageous to agree with your opponent. When using definitions offensively (e.g., accusing someone else of being an egghead) it’s important not to overextend by providing too much of a definition, because doing so runs the risk of giving your opponent ammunition that they can turn against you. For example, if you were to accuse someone of being an egghead, “using fancy jargon to show someone how educated you are,” your opponent could agree that he’s educated and say, “If you’re insecure about your own lack of knowledge, don’t attack me.”

So far, Heinrichs has been talking about defining specific terms. Now, it’s time to talk about defining an entire concept. In the 1980s, for example, Republicans skillfully shifted the debate surrounding welfare by repeatedly referring to people as “welfare cheats,” until the term was inseparable from the concept of welfare itself. When using a term to define a big concept, it’s helpful to use a system of opposites. Heinrichs was recently involved in consulting for a publishing company, and wanted to convince an airline’s in-flight magazine that his firm would be the best company for the job. Knowing that his rivals had pitched a serious, professional magazine, he pitched a fun, lighthearted magazine, implicitly labeling his rivals’ pitch dull.

When defining terms or ideas, it’s useful to use commonplace words—buzzwords that create a clear idea for the audience. Sometimes, businesses or political focus groups spend millions of dollars trying to identify commonplace words. Contemporary examples of commonplace words include “paradigm,” “team,” “traumatized,” and “aggressive.” Using these words can be extremely effective with a big audience.

There are two sides to every issue, and therefore, two sets of commonplace words. Take the topic of abortion: one side emphasizes phrases like “the right to live,” while the other side speaks about “the right to choose.” Consultants are paid to determine how best to “frame” a political issue—i.e., which commonplace words to use. For example, in the case of abortion, pro-life consultants created a language of “life” around the issue, while pro-choice consultants successfully framed the debate as a debate about government intrusion in people’s personal lives. In many ways, pro-life consultants did a better job than their opponents: they framed their side in positive terms, and found a way to incorporate the most basic commonplace of all: life. Pro-lifers scored a series of major victories in the late 1990s when they began focusing on opposing late-term abortions, to which a greater portion of the public was opposed. By seeming to offer a more moderate position on abortion (while actually preserving the same beliefs), pro-lifers built a broader coalition of support for their cause.

After choosing commonplaces and defining the issue advantageously, the persuader must choose the proper tense for the debate. Commonplaces refer to values, expressed in the present tense; however, persuaders need to point these ideas toward the future, where deliberative rhetoric occurs. In doing so, persuaders naturally gravitate toward the middle. For example, a pro-life advocate might argue that abortion is always wrong; however, when he shifts his rhetoric to the future, he might be forced to concede that, under some circumstances, abortion is acceptable. But of course, Heinrichs concludes, many pro-life advocates “stick to their guns. And remain unpersuasive.”