Austin Community College Texas Richard Nixons Resignation Speech Analysis Total word count should be about 1000-1250 words, so about 500-600 per chosen top

Austin Community College Texas Richard Nixons Resignation Speech Analysis Total word count should be about 1000-1250 words, so about 500-600 per chosen topic. There are 2 short essays to cover 2 selections. The Classical Oration
The authors of this book once examined a series of engineering reports and found that — to their great
surprise — these reports were generally structured in ways similar to those used by Greek and Roman
rhetors two thousand years ago. Thus, this ancient structuring system is alive and well in twenty-firstcentury culture. The classical oration has six parts, most of which will be familiar to you, despite their
Latin names:
Exordium: You try to win the attention and goodwill of an audience while introducing a topic or
problem.
Narratio: You present the facts of the case, explaining what happened when, who is involved, and so on.
The narratio puts an argument in context.
Partitio: You divide up the topic, explaining what the claim is, what the key issues are, and in what order
they will be treated.
Confirmatio: You offer detailed support for the claim, using both logical reasoning and factual evidence.
Refutatio: You carefully consider and respond to opposing claims or evidence.
Peroratio: You summarize the case and move the audience to action.
This structure is powerful because it covers all the bases: readers or listeners want to know what your
topic is, how you intend to cover it, and what evidence you have to offer. And you probably need a
reminder to present a pleasing ethos when beginning a presentation and to conclude with enough
pathos to win an audience over completely. Here, in outline form, is a five-part updated version of the
classical pattern, which you may find useful on many occasions:
Introduction
gains readers’ interest and willingness to listen
indicates your qualifications to write about your topic
establishes some common ground with your audience
demonstrates that you’re fair and even-handed
states your claim
Background
presents information, including personal stories or anecdotes relevant to your argument
Lines of Argument
present good reasons, including logical and emotional appeals, in support of your claim
Alternative Arguments
carefully consider different points of view and opposing arguments
note the advantages and disadvantages of these views
explain why your view is preferable to others
Conclusion
summarizes the argument
elaborates on the implications of your claim
makes clear what you want the audience to think or do
reinforces your credibility and perhaps offers an emotional appeal
Not every piece of rhetoric, past or present, follows the structure of the oration or includes all its
components. But you can identify some of its elements in successful arguments if you pay attention to
their design. Here are the words of the 1776 Declaration of Independence:
The authors might have structured this argument by beginning with the last two sentences of the
excerpt and then listing the facts intended to prove the king’s abuse and tyranny. But by choosing first
to explain the purpose and “self-evident” assumptions behind their argument and only then moving on
to demonstrate how these “truths” have been denied by the British, the authors forge an immediate
connection with readers and build up to the memorable conclusion. The structure is both familiar and
inventive — as your own use of key elements of the oration should be in the arguments you compose.
Rogerian and Invitational Arguments
In trying to find an alternative to confrontational and angry arguments like those that so often erupt in
legislative bodies around the world, scholars and teachers of rhetoric have adapted the
nonconfrontational principles employed by psychologist Carl Rogers in personal therapy sessions. In
simple terms, Rogers argued that people involved in disputes should not respond to each other until
they could fully, fairly, and even sympathetically state the other person’s position. Scholars of rhetoric
Richard E. Young, Alton L. Becker, and Kenneth L. Pike developed a four-part structure that is now
known as Rogerian argument:
Introduction: You describe an issue, a problem, or a conflict in terms rich enough to show that you fully
understand and respect any alternative position or positions.
Contexts: You describe the contexts in which alternative positions may be valid.
Writer’s position: You state your position on the issue and present the circumstances in which that
opinion would be valid.
Benefits to opponent: You explain to opponents how they would benefit from adopting your position.
The key to Rogerian argumentation is a willingness to think about opposing positions and to describe
them fairly. In a Rogerian structure, you have to acknowledge that alternatives to your claims exist and
that they might be reasonable under certain circumstances. In tone, Rogerian arguments steer clear of
heated and stereotypical language, emphasizing instead how all parties in a dispute might gain from
working together.
In the same vein, feminist scholars Sonja Foss and Cindy Griffin have outlined a form of argument they
label “invitational,” one that begins with careful attention to and respect for the person or the audience
you are in conversation with. Foss and Griffin show that such listening — in effect, walking in the other
person’s shoes — helps you see that person’s points of view more clearly and thoroughly and thus offers
a basis for moving together toward new understandings. The kind of argument they describe is what
rhetorician Krista Ratcliffe calls “rhetorical listening,” as we saw in Chapter 1 — listening that helps to
establish productive connections between people and thus helps enable effective cross-cultural
communications.
Invitational rhetoric has as its goal not winning over opponents but getting people and groups to work
together and identify with each other; it strives for connection, collaboration, and the mutually
informed creation of knowledge. As feminist scholar Sally Miller Gearhart puts it, invitational argument
offers a way to disagree without hurting one another, to disagree with respect. This kind of argument is
especially important in a society that increasingly depends on successful collaboration to get things
done. In college, you may have opportunities to practice invitational rhetoric in peer-review sessions,
when each member of a group listens carefully in order to work through problems and issues. You may
also practice invitational rhetoric looking at any contested issue from other people’s points of view,
taking them into account, and engaging them fairly and respectfully in your own argument. Students we
know who are working in high-tech industries also tell us how much such arguments are valued, since
they fuel innovation and “out of the box” thinking.
Invitational arguments, then, call up structures that more resemble good two-way conversations or freeranging dialogues than straight-line marches from thesis to conclusion. Even conventional arguments
benefit from invitational strategies by giving space early on to a full range of perspectives, making sure
to present them thoroughly and clearly. Remember that in such arguments your goal is enhanced
understanding so that you can open up a space for new perceptions and fresh ideas.
Consider how Frederick Douglass tried to broaden the outlook of his audiences when he delivered a
Fourth of July oration in 1852. Most nineteenth-century Fourth of July speeches followed a pattern of
praising the Revolutionary War heroes and emphasizing freedom, democracy, and justice. Douglass, a
former slave, had that tradition in mind as he delivered his address, acknowledging the “great
principles” that the “glorious anniversary” celebrates. But he also asked his (white) listeners to see the
occasion from another point of view:
Although his speech is in some ways confrontational, Douglass is also inviting his audience to see a
version of reality that they could have discovered on their own had they dared to imagine the lives of
African Americans living in the shadows of American liberty. Issuing that invitation, and highlighting its
consequences, points a way forward in the conflict between slavery and freedom, black and white,
oppression and justice, although response to Douglass’s invitation was a long time in coming.
More recently, in the aftermath of Donald J. Trump’s unexpected victory in the 2016 presidential
election, pundits on the political left reconsidered strategies that may have distanced many workingclass voters from any appeal Hillary Clinton might have made. Kevin Drum in Mother Jones offers what
amounts to a Rogerian analysis of how liberal Democrats (like himself) might recapture middle-American
voters who swung to Trump by accepting, not denigrating, their political values, such as being pro-life or
owning a gun for self-defense:
In the same way that right-wing Republicans need to learn how to talk about women’s issues,
Democrats need to learn how to talk about middle America. No more deplorables. No more clinging to
guns and religion. Less swarming over every tin-eared comment on race.
—Kevin Drum, “Less Liberal Contempt, Please,” May 31, 2017
In finding validity in views held by some of middle America’s working-class voters, Drum urges his fellow
liberals to take the high road of respect and learn to talk with those with whom they might share
common interests.
The use of invitational argument like this in contemporary political life may seem rare, but in spite of
much evidence to the contrary (think of brutal clashes on Twitter and cable news shows), the public
claims to prefer nonpartisan and invitational rhetoric to one-on-one, winner-take-all battles. The lesson
to take from Rogerian or invitational argument may be that it makes good sense to learn opposing
positions well enough to state them accurately and honestly, to strive to understand the points of view
of your opponents, to acknowledge those views fairly in your own work, and to look for solutions that
benefit as many people as possible.
RESPOND?
Dividing into groups, choose a controversial topic that is frequently in the news, and decide how you
might structure an argument on the subject, using the general principles of the classical oration. Then
look at the same subject from a Rogerian or invitational perspective. How might your argument differ?
Which approach would work better for your topic? For the audiences you might want to address?
Toulmin Argument
In The Uses of Argument (1958), British philosopher Stephen Toulmin presented structures to describe
the way that ordinary people make reasonable arguments. Because Toulmin’s system acknowledges the
complications of life — situations when we qualify our thoughts with words such as sometimes, often,
presumably, unless, and almost — his method isn’t as airtight as formal logic that uses syllogisms (see
introduction to Chapter 7 and Using Reason and Common Sense in Chapter 4). But for that reason,
Toulmin logic has become a powerful and, for the most part, practical tool for understanding and
shaping arguments in the real world.
Toulmin argument will help you come up with and test ideas and also figure out what goes where in
many kinds of arguments. Let’s take a look at the basic elements of Toulmin’s structure:
Claim
the argument you wish to prove
Qualifiers
any limits you place on your claim
Reason(s)/Evidence
support for your claim
Warrants
underlying assumptions that support your claim
Backing
evidence for warrant
If you wanted to state the relationship among them in a sentence, you might say:
My claim is true, to a qualified degree, because of the following reasons, which make sense if you
consider the warrant, backed by these additional reasons.
These terms — claim, evidence, warrants, backing, and qualifiers — are the building blocks of the
Toulmin argument structure. Let’s take them one at a time.
Making Claims
Toulmin arguments begin with
claims, debatable and controversial statements or assertions you hope to prove.
A claim answers the question So what’s your point? or Where do you stand on that? Some writers might
like to ignore these questions and avoid stating a position. But when you make a claim worth writing
about, then it’s worth standing up and owning it.
Is there a danger that you might oversimplify an issue by making too bold a claim? Of course. But
making that sweeping claim is a logical first step toward eventually saying something more reasonable
and subtle. Here are some fairly simple, undeveloped claims:
Congress should enact legislation that establishes a path to citizenship for undocumented immigrants.
It’s time to treat the opioid addiction in the United States as a medical crisis.
NASA should affirm its commitment to a human expedition to Mars.
Veganism is the most responsible choice of diet.
Military insurance should not cover the cost of sex reassignment surgery for service men and women.
Good claims often spring from personal experiences. You may have relevant work or military or athletic
experience — or you may know a lot about music, film, sustainable agriculture, social networking,
inequities in government services — all fertile ground for authoritative, debatable, and personally
relevant claims.
RESPOND?
Claims aren’t always easy to find. Sometimes they’re buried deep within an argument, and sometimes
they’re not present at all. An important skill in reading and writing arguments is the ability to identify
claims, even when they aren’t obvious.
In class and working in a group, collect a sample of four to six brief argumentative postings from political
blogs or editorial postings (from news sites). Read each item, and then try to identify every claim that
the writer makes. When you’ve compiled a list of claims, look carefully at the words that the writer or
writers use when stating their positions. Is there a common vocabulary? Can you find terms or phrases
that signal an impending claim? Which of these seem most effective? Which ones seem least effective?
Why?
Offering Evidence and Good Reasons
You can begin developing a claim by drawing up a list of reasons to support it or finding
evidence that backs up the point.
One student writer wanted to gather good reasons in support of an assertion that his college campus
needed more official spaces for parking bicycles. He did some research, gathering statistics about
parking-space allocation, numbers of people using particular designated slots, and numbers of bicycles
registered on campus. Before he went any further, however, he listed his primary reasons for wanting to
increase bicycle parking:
Personal experience: At least twice a week for two terms, he was unable to find a designated parking
space for his bike.
Anecdotes: Several of his friends told similar stories. One even sold her bike as a result.
Facts: He found out that the ratio of car to bike parking spaces was 100 to 1, whereas the ratio of cars to
bikes registered on campus was 25 to 1.
Authorities: The campus police chief told the college newspaper that she believed a problem existed for
students who tried to park bicycles legally.
On the basis of his preliminary listing of possible reasons in support of the claim, this student decided
that his subject was worth more research. He was on the way to amassing a set of good reasons and
evidence that were sufficient to support his claim.
In shaping your own arguments, try putting claims and reasons together early in the writing process to
create enthymemes. Think of these enthymemes as test cases or even as topic sentences:
Bicycle parking spaces should be expanded because the number of bikes on campus far exceeds the
available spots.
It’s time to lower the driving age because I’ve been driving since I was fourteen and it hasn’t hurt me.
National legalization of marijuana is long overdue since it is already legal in many states, has proven to
be less harmful than alcohol, and provides effective relief from pain associated with cancer.
Violent video games should be carefully evaluated and their use monitored by the industry, the
government, and parents because such games cause addiction and even psychological harm to players.
As you can see, attaching a reason to a claim often spells out the major terms of an argument.
But your work is just beginning when you’ve put a claim together with its supporting reasons and
evidence — because readers are certain to begin questioning your statement. They might ask whether
the reasons and evidence that you’re offering actually do support the claim: should the driving age really
be changed just because you’ve managed to drive since you were fourteen? They might ask pointed
questions about your evidence: exactly how do you know that the number of bikes on campus far
exceeds the number of spaces available? Eventually, you’ve got to address potential questions about the
quality of your assumptions and the reliability of your evidence. The connection between claim and
reason(s) is a concern at the next level in Toulmin argument.
Anticipate challenges to your claims.
Determining Warrants
Crucial to Toulmin argument is appreciating that there must be a logical and persuasive connection
between a claim and the reasons and data supporting it. Toulmin calls this connection the
warrant. It answers the question How exactly do I get from the data to the claim? Like the warrant in
legal situations (a search warrant, for example), a sound warrant in an argument gives you authority to
proceed with your case.
The warrant tells readers what your (often unstated) assumptions are — for example, that any major
medical problem should be a concern of the government. If readers accept your warrant, you can then
present specific evidence to develop your claim. But if readers dispute your warrant, you’ll have to
defend it before you can move on to the claim itself.
Stating warrants can be tricky because they can be phrased in various ways. What you’re looking for is
the general principle that enables you to justify the move from a reason to a specific claim — the bridge
connecting them. The warrant is the assumption that makes the claim seem believable. It’s often a value
or principle that you share with your readers. Here’s an easy example:
Don’t eat that mushroom: it’s poisonous.
The warrant supporting this enthymeme can be stated in several ways, always moving from the reason
(it’s poisonous) to the claim (Don’t eat that mushroom):
Anything that is poisonous shouldn’t be eaten.
If something is poisonous, it’s dangerous to eat.
Perfectly obvious, you say? Exactly — and that’s why the statement is so convincing. If the mushroom in
question is a death cap or destroying angel (and you might still need expert testimony to prove that it
is), the warrant does the rest of the work, making the claim that it supports seem logical and persuasive.
Let’s look at a similar example, beginning with the argument in its basic form:
We’d better stop for gas because the gauge has been reading empty for more than thirty miles.
In this case, you have evidence that is so clear (a gas gauge reading empty) that the reason for getting
gas doesn’t even have to be stated: the tank is almost empty. The warrant connecting the evidence to
the claim is also obvious:
If the fuel gauge of a car has been reading empty for more than thirty miles, then that car is about to run
out of gas.
Since most readers would accept this warrant as reasonable, they would also likely accept the statement
the warrant supports.
A simple icon — a skull and crossbones — can make a visual argument that implies a claim, a reason,
and a warrant.
Naturally, factual information might undermine the whole argument: the fuel gauge might be broken, or
the driver might know from experience that the car will go another fifty miles even though the fuel
gauge reads empty. But in most cases, readers would accept the warrant.
Now let’s consider how stating and then examining a …
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