Image courtesy William H. Hannon Library (Loyola Marymount University)
Subject + Linking Verb + Predicate
Akaky Akakievich's "inability to utter a word" represents his lack of power
Subject linking verb predicate
Definition argument: this statement claims that one key mark of power in “The Overcoat” is speech and therefore that, in the story, power is speech.
Audience and arguer must agree on what we mean by the key terms. As the arguer, I must define both power and speech in the context of the story. I must show that the appearance or lack of one is always accompanied by the appearance or lack of the other.
Most arguments about literature are definition arguments, and might involve some evaluative claims (but usually not). If you go into more historical arguments, these might be causal.
Jeanne Fahnestock and Marie Secor, Readings in Argument. New York: Random House, 1985.
In this type of argument, the questions being answered are: “What is it?” and “Is it?” (Does something—a thing, a state of affairs, a trend—exist or not?) The verification of a statement depends on definition; the arguer and the audience must agree on what they mean by key terms.
Definition-based arguments can 1) place their subject in a certain category (“Lions are predators.”), or 2) assert its existence (“There are rings around Uranus.”) or 3) identify its attributes (“The monasteries in Greece are thriving.”).
In this type of argument, the questions being answered are: “Why?” and “What new events or circumstances led to the subject in question?”
Causal arguments depend on an assumed or argued agency, which we can define as a shared belief about what can cause what.
There are necessary causes and sufficient causes. Necessary causes must be in place for the effect to occur. Fuel is necessary for a car’s movement, but it cannot produce the effect by itself. All the fuel in the world will not start a car with a dead battery.
More than personal opinion, claims about value can achieve the status of argument. If you give reasons for a preference, grounded on points that you and any other listener could agree on, then you would have an argument.
Our ability to make swift judgments is a useful one. But when we want to convince a reader or listener to judge or evaluate as we do, we cannot always simply say, “Look how wrong this is,” or “See how beautiful that is.” Such bare claims work only if the audience sees with our eyes and judges with our principles.
When we evaluate, we have in mind something like an ideal of what a good thing should be and do, and we apply that ideal to the individual instance before us. If it lives up to our standards, the evaluation is positive; if it does not, the response is negative. We must always ask, as our readers surely will: where do these criteria come from?
Proposal arguments propose a course of action to address a certain issue. Proposal arguments draw on their readers’ sense of shared definitions, plausible consequences, and commonly held values. They are especially vulnerable on the flank of feasibility: Can this proposal really be implemented? Is the person making the argument ready, willing, and able to take action? What are the obstacles that must be overcome in order to bring about the desired state of affairs?
