Monday, April 17, 2023

Arguing Well

Casey Chalk at The Federalist gives us three principles for arguing well which he borrows from ethicist Matthew Petrusek. Chalk is writing for conservatives in particular, but the principles apply to anyone.

1. Know Their Arguments Better Than They Do
In order to effectively argue, we need what Petrusek calls a disposition for constructive debate rather than simply point-scoring (as fun as it may be to “own” the other side). That includes trying to sympathetically understand our opponent’s position.

A great way to do that is to try to repeat the person’s argument back to them in your own words. It can be as simple as saying, “Tell me if I understand you accurately: What you are saying is [fill in the blank]?”

The purpose of this is not simply to be charitable to the other side (though that’s certainly important). It’s also a way to force your opponent to actually make an argument, rather than simply an emotive, often aggressive assertion.

Petrusek explains: “Central to playing the game of truth-seeking is knowing the opponent’s position at least as well, if not better, than he or she does.” And by helping the person package an argument, their errors usually become manifest.
2. Insist That People Define Their Terms
Arguments can only go so far when two or more people aren’t using the same terms in the same way because the two camps define their words differently. Thus before jumping right into the point-counterpoint debate, we should ask our interlocutors to define their terms. Sometimes the result of that will be that people realize they don’t know what those terms even mean.

Alternatively, it could become clear there is a deeper origin point for the disagreement.

“Without pinpointing where the conflict originates, there can be no authentic debate; the disagreeing parties will simply be talking (or more likely, shouting) past each other,” writes Petrusek.
3. Find the Underlying Philosophical Principles
This points to another important element of real, productive debate: identifying the underlying philosophical principle often doing the unmentioned work in an argument. Petrusek explains that isolating arguments and breaking them down into parts enables us to more clearly recognize their faulty premises because “sound arguments have valid propositions and unambiguous terms.”

Consider the claim that, “We shouldn’t legislate morality.” This claim is premised on the empirical belief that certain laws are based on hard, empirical truths, while other laws are based on flimsy, subjective definitions of morality. But the problem is that all laws are moral in the sense that they obviously communicate that some behaviors are good, and others are bad. Not legislating morality is, in a word, impossible.

A lot of what gets labeled an “argument” today is less true argumentation and more just fighting and name-calling (claims about alleged racism, white supremacy, or “the patriarchy” often fall into this category).

It is not hard to identify opportunities to employ these tactics. Think about how you could respond to those who claim people need to be protected from “harmful” or “dangerous” speech. Typically, these arguments amount to little more than emotivism and voluntarism: the assertion that a person’s emotions and individual will trump everything else, even, ironically, things they otherwise claim to believe in, such as logic, science, or democracy.
Chalk gives a bit more by way of examples at the link, but it's certainly true that our society would be better off were we all better trained in the art of argument. An argument should be a rational attempt to find truth, it should never be a shouting match or name-calling, yet that's what it too often is.

The hardest part about good arguing - a calm, reasoned exchange of ideas and defeaters - is admitting when the other side has the better argument and being willing to accept that one's own beliefs need to be modified, held less confidently, and/or abandoned altogether.

This, for most of us is a bitter pill and our pride often prevents us from going this far. Our pride, in other words, often stands between us and the truth, which is really a shame and a tragedy.