The theory and practice of argumentation and debate

by Victor Alvin Ketcham

a. Adaptation to speaker or writer.

The writer of an argument, whether the argument is to be written out for the purpose of being read or whether it is to be delivered in the form of a speech, must take into consideration his own power and ability. With these clearly in mind he must present his subject in a way which seems natural and spontaneous. Never should an attempt be made to imitate the manner of any particular speaker or writer. Such attempts always appear unnatural, strained, and artificial, as in truth they are. The keynote of adapting a speech to the speaker is sincerity. Sincerity begets naturalness. To be sincere and know that he is in the right leads the speaker to treat his subject in a manner which will show forth the best qualities of his character.

The argument should manifest the utmost fairness. It should be clear that the speaker or writer desires truth and justice to prevail. When stating an opponent’s position for purposes of refutation the speaker or writer should be sure that his statements are fair and reasonable and will bear the inspection of unprejudiced judges. If genuine sincerity and absolute fairness are put into an argument they will go far toward adapting it to the personality of the author.

b. Adaptation to audience or reader.

As a basis for this sort of adaptation a real sympathy with those to whom the argument is to be addressed is essential. In fact the arguer must be able to take their view of the subject. He must realize that an argument which is to be presented to a working-man must be, in a way, different from one which is to be presented to a banker. To be sure, the essence of the argument may be the same, but when the task of developing the brief into a finished product is undertaken, these different standpoints must be considered.

Not only must this adaptation be considered from the standpoint of those engaged in different occupations in life, but the predominating political, social, religious, and scholastic temperament must also be considered. Especially is this true if the beliefs of the audience or readers differ from those of the speaker or writer. Usually the speaker realizes the importance of the latter situation but very often does not know just how to meet it. Here again sympathy is the keynote. Nothing should be said which will give offense. The speaker must prepare carefully each step in his argument so as to lead the audience with him. In the beginning a common basis must be found, then the true attitude of the arguer may be made apparent as he proceeds.

An instance of this gradual leading on of the audience is found in “Julius Caesar,” where Mark Antony addresses the citizens after the murder of Caesar. The statements of “a plain blunt man” attach a much different significance to the “honorable men” at the close of the argument from that which was given in its beginning. Had Antony reversed the order of his speech he would have been deliberately killed instead of being hailed as a leader. He adapted his argument to his audience. He led them along step by step until in the end they arrived at the inference which he wished to establish and then with a fiery conclusion he aroused in them the desire for action. Not once did he lose their interest, because his treatment of the subject-matter took into account their personal, financial, social, and political welfare. This classical example illustrates well the maintaining of interest by that method of appropriate treatment which adapts the argument to the audience.

An example of a speaker addressing an audience of an entirely different class from that to which he himself belongs is that of Booker T. Washington on the occasion of the opening of the Atlanta Exposition. Mr. Washington had great difficulty in determining how he should take up his subject. But he was wise enough to apply the principle of sympathy with his audience, and the result was an address which stands as a monument to his wisdom. He, himself, says that: “No two audiences are exactly alike. It is my aim to reach and talk to the heart of each individual audience, taking it into my confidence much as I would a person. When I am speaking to an audience I care little for how what I am saying is going to sound in the newspapers, or to another audience, or to an individual. At the time, the audience before me absorbs all my sympathy, thought, and energy.” Again he says, referring to the occasion above mentioned, “I was determined to say nothing that I did not feel from the bottom of my heart to be true and right.”

Lincoln had some very strong misgivings about the reception of his Cooper Institute speech. It is said that he felt “miseries of embarrassment from his sense of the unaccustomed conditions, the critical and refined audience, his own ungainliness, and his ill-fitting and wrinkled clothes.” But after he began to speak his embarrassment disappeared. It was merged into sympathy with his audience, the people of New York City, for whom he had especially prepared the address. How well he succeeded in his adaptation we all know, and Nicolay and Hay say in their account:

“Yet, such was the apt choice of words, the easy precision of sentences, the simple strength of propositions, the fairness of every point he assumed, and the force of every conclusion he drew that his listeners followed him with the interest and delight a child feels in its easy mastery of a plain sum in arithmetic.”