We often think of an argument as something we’re trying to win, even if that means bending or breaking the rules. If it’s an interpersonal argument, sometimes we resort to making up stuff in order to claim a (usually temporary) victory. It seems more important to win than it is to be right. If an argument has a winner and loser, who wants to be the loser?
But arguments in writing or public discourse of any kind are conducted for the benefit of the audience. The goal is not to win but to make sure everyone leaves the argument knowing more about the subject than before being exposed to the argument.
Making this kind of argument a more common feature of everyday life would probably result in greatly improved public spaces where people are less angry on social media. If we were less concerned about being viewed as the winner, and more concerned about being truthful and accurate, a lot of the free-floating BS that makes its way through the culture would be a little less foul smelling.
When we think of arguments this way, even the “loser” of the argument gains, because they possess information and insight they lacked before. It can be difficult when you’ve been shown to be wrong, but that temporary difficulty makes it more likely you’ll win the argument next time.
For example, we could ask a question like, “Is going to college a good thing?”
On average, definitely. People with college degrees tend to have better outcomes, and not just economically. They report a greater sense of overall well-being also.
But different people go to college for different reasons, and the costs of going to college can vary greatly. Over the last twenty-plus years, the cost of college tuition has increased significantly. More students than ever graduate with great amounts of debt. Those who attend some college but don’t graduate often have difficulty paying back loans or other related debt. Even as more and more people choose to go to college, we’ve made the path to success far more costly. Because of this, college may not be a universal best choice.
Good argument can seek to illuminate this issue in a lot of different ways. Economists may look at the cost-benefit in monetary terms of different paths in postsecondary education. Sociologists can look at how and why students from different backgrounds may make different choices when it comes to going to college.
The experiences in this section are designed to develop the writer’s practice in the context of having these kinds of arguments.
The first four experiences, “What Do They Mean?” (summary and response), “Huh? Say What?” (translation), “Why Should I Trust This?” (understanding sources), and “Hey, Whaddaya Know?” (trivia questions and annotated bibliography) are focused on some of the fundamental skills and attitudes that make it easier to write effective arguments.
Essentially, in order to argue effectively we need to be able to present all aspects of someone else’s argument and understand where their argument comes from and evaluate the building blocks on which their argument rests.
We also need to be able to handle sources by locating and digesting them, and utilizing one of our most important habits of mind, curiosity, to follow a trail of information in order to make sure we’ve accessed the best, most accurate stuff.
After that, you’ll be arguing, starting with an “impossible” argument before moving on to other varieties of argument, each of which originates in something you believe to be important.
For these sorts of experiences, revision may work a little differently than it has in the previous pieces. Sometimes, when making an argument, we’ll get to the end of a draft and realize, for whatever reason, it just didn’t fly. It may be that we were mistaken about the strength of the evidence or that a claim we rested our argument on is weaker than we figured, or that the draft revealed we need to target a different audience. The list of reasons why a draft may go wrong are endless.
When this happens, for revision, it’s usually best to start a fresh draft, with a blank page, rather than trying to work with the existing text. This doesn’t mean the original draft was a waste. In fact, it’s the opposite. The draft allowed you to do the thinking necessary to find the right approach.
Writing and revision often works this way. When there are more moving parts in a particular experience, revision can become a more involved process. Don’t fear it.
Consider each argument as a chance to exercise your own thinking and reasoning abilities. Even if the end result isn’t as great as you’d wish, the exercise was worth doing and will help lead to better results in the future.