More FDR and Less Q

 

Keywords:  argument, rhetoric

About 950 words or 3 pages

Occasionally one gets called on to address some topic off the cuff. This happens more frequently if you’re head of an association and especially if you have “Dr.” as a title (and here’s a secret: a doctorate is a credential of stamina, not of intellect).  I got marked recently to spontaneously address a crowd at church in answer to a question about a controversial topic. The topic is not of consequence here, for I speak to you of the method of argument—no matter the subject.

                First, here’s an acronym for you to memorize:  FDRQ.  Just think FDR and then add a Q. This approach is a concise use of the classics with a smidge of modern legal rhetoric thrown in, and I borrow from Jay Heinrichs’ amusing treatment in Thank you for Arguing. 

                You may have heard this method from a lawyer:  if the facts aren’t with you, argue the definition; if the definition isn’t with you, argue the relevance; and if the relevance isn’t with you, question the other side.  That’s it in a nutshell (the facts), now let’s unpack it a bit (the definition), see how it’s used (relevance), and try to avoid any ad hominem attacks against you personally (questions).

                In our scenario here, I was called upon to analyze a topic in the Bible without any preparation time.  I applied our little acronym, which is useful for quick analysis of most any content.  What are the facts?  As applied to literature, this really becomes what is the face value.

I said, “I don’t know off hand all of the verses dealing with this topic, perhaps someone here can list them for us, but let’s get those out on the table,” then we have the “facts” or “face value.”

                The next step is obvious, but costly.  We now try to define those facts. What do the words actually mean?  And for this we must know something of the context?   This is where a lot of behind the scenes research would often need to be done—and done with respect.  For example, the four words “Thou shalt not kill,” would need to be understood in the Hebrew; do we mean ‘kill’ as in take the life of anything (a plant, an animal, a microbe?) or is it only meant as murder?  The original language and content must be understood.  Another example would be “follow the science.”  As one from the sciences, I chuckle when I hear this. Which science?  Define that please.  Ah, you must mean settled science?  Well, it might take a long while for the precipitate to settle in that test tube. 

                This brings us to relevance. Be careful, this is when the disingenuous—if they failed to attack well in the F (Fact)  and D (Definition) phases—will now fire their last bullets of reason. 

I said, “You asked how those rules in an old, limited section can even be relevant anymore?  An analogy of what you ask:  I’m driving down the road in New Jersey and get pulled over for speeding. I appear in court. Your Honor, please show me in the law book where speeding is illegal. The judge opens the book and points to the section in the code. Suppose I know my stuff and then say, Your Honor, please turn to section such and such in that same book, and you’ll see that it is illegal to milk a cow on the second floor of a house here in your garden state. Now how can you possibly enforce anything in that silly book?”

                In the F and D moments, the argument was only on the actual text/idea in question by itself (in vacuo). Now, all sorts of analogies and tricks of argument come forth. Try to make sure those tricks are limited to this R (Relevance) phase—delay them until the F and D phases are explored. Otherwise, one never explores fully the topic, but gets derailed by some polemic (i.e., tricky method). Churchill was a master at this (I paraphrase):  “remember, madam, I may be drunk and you may be ugly, but I shall be sober in the morning.”  In other words, he ceded the fact and definition of his being drunk, but this is irrelevant to the permanence of her ugliness.

                Actually, this quip does double duty: shows irrelevance and moves into Q territory, that is, it Questions the speaker. In today’s world, especially with barely literate social media, the first three phases of what could be intelligent debate are skipped altogether.  We go straight to questioning the validity of the other side. These are labelled ad hominem attacks (Latin for “to the man”). Things get made personal right away. Arguments with familiar people or a pre-labelled “side”  can move quickly to this phase. This is regrettable; yes, it may save some time, but leaves all intellect behind. It replays what happened before on an endless loop and allows for little progress. 

                Let’s take the real FDR (that is Franklin Delano Roosevelt) as an example. Someone touts the New Deal as policy successes, and the response comes in argument, “you mean those policies enacted by the same president who locked up all our Japanese citizens in concentration camps?”  Now there’s an irrelevant R and Q, but illustrates a popular tactic today.

                As an association exec who argues on the Hill on occasion (back before Zoom calls proved much more lucrative for Members of Congress than meeting folks in person), I recognize a clever form of Q in how bills before Congress are labelled.  Some proposed legislation might be titled the Save-the-Universe Act--meaning that if you aren’t for it, you then must be against saving the universe, you slimeball!  No matter how you feel about his policies or war time actions, we need more FDR and less Q.

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