Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Unit 2, Response to Reading

I recently wrote a letter to Speaker of the House John Bohner about the pejorative use of the word “Obamacare” to describe health care reform. I watch a lot of Sunday morning shows and keep up with my reading in the New York Times but I am not exactly a big fan of the legislation that make up what is collectively known as health care reform under President Obama’s administration. To be sure my letter developed credibility with the reader right away I expressed my knowledge of health care reform, fiscal responsibility, and budget negotiations. This element of ethos prepped the reader for a “trustworthy” persona conveying moderate tone and is clearly informed (Ramage, 111).

At the time I did an extensive amount of rhetorical prep work in compiling my letter, but I didn’t identify a strategy for this kind of work until I read the Unit 2 assigned reading. I knew that to be heard by his office about this strictly non-partisan affair, I would need to plan my argument with an appeal to our shared values. I began by crafting a list of assumptions in my head about values that Speaker Bohner and I share and hold in high esteem such as the Office of the Speaker of the House, the Office of the President, and the promotion of civil discourse. I could be wrong about these assumptions but it would be somewhat embarrassing for the reader of the letter if we were so I stuck with this.

Letters to Congressional offices are typically read by staffers so I knew my message would need to be short, sweet, and on point to be effective with the initial reader. It did end up going on for an entire page. Right away I asked myself “what’s your beef with Speaker Bohner” in order to frame my argument most succinctly. In the text I discovered the “enthymeme”, or the core of an argument. The enthymeme is a general claim of an argument and the reason the claim should be supported, but the reader must be in accord with the underlying assumptions (Ramage, 74) like our shared appreciation of civil discourse. Though the core of the argument may seem like the obvious ingredient, logical appeal can be overrun with emotional appeals for a purpose. Crafting the logos, or reasoning for my argument, can be managed with the enthymeme. My enthymeme consisted of a claim that House members stop referring to health care reform parts as “Obamacare” because it would promote a more civil public discourse. The underlying assumption the reader/audience supplied in this case was that promoting more civil public discourse is an important part of healthy democracy.

In order to fully develop an argument for a reader/audience that doesn’t already agree with me, the Toulmin System asks a writer/speaker to identify the audience’s buy in to certain grounds or “warrants”, (Ramage, 76). To convince Speaker Bohner to back costly legislation I might provide grounds such as statistics and data or testimony from an expert about why he must act. My cause is on the cheap side but could cost him political capital so I kept my grounds limited to giving a personal narrative which included three declarations: use of the term “Obamacare” was disrespectful and dismissive of actual reforms needed to bring down the high cost of health care and make actual budget and deficit impacts; I did not always support some of the foreign and fiscal policies of past Congress and President George W. Bush, but as a soldier demonstrated a professional image; my opinion that promoting civil discourse was important to the relationship between the State and those who consent to be governed. I was sure Speaker Bohner would accept my grounds, so accepting my argument shouldn’t be far off.  Identifying myself as a veteran and civic minded were shared in order spark Speaker Bohner’s beliefs and (profound) emotions about our civic responsibility. This layer of pathos is a legitimate appeal to “deepen response to an issue” (Ramage, 112).

The Rhetorical context of my letter to the Office of the Speaker required little hard evidence to be representative of typical moderate voters and get my patriotic point across. Though I never presented any data or testimony, I did identify the use of the Fulkerson’s STAR criteria after the fact to evaluate whether or not evidence I supplied was sufficient, typical, accurate, and relevant (Ramage, 90). My personal experience as a veteran and a voter familiar with current health care reforms might be sufficient evidence for a personal appeal, but generally personal experiences are considered to be unverifiable and subject to hasty generalizations (Ramage, 91). Data from field or observational research enhances the credibility of the author but could be criticized as atypical or insufficient (Ramage, 92). Data from interviews or surveys expand experiences and give a lot more credibility to an argument, and interviews might add to pathos with personal stories but critics will always point out that methodology and design could be flawed in survey type evidence (Ramage, 92). Testimony from experts would be applicable to my letter if I could find an expert that could provide some context for the negative impact of pejorative language on civil discourse, but critics will always question an “expert” credentials. Statistical data probably doesn’t exist for my case-scenario, but numbers that demonstrated an increase in domestic political violence would provide a snapshot of cause-effect relationship between speech and violence – which is weakened by subjective interpretation (Ramage, 93). Hypothetical arguments or case-scenarios have a strong imaginative appeal. It would be easy to narrate a situation like the attempted assassination of Congresswoman Gabriel Giffords, however, conveying in “inevitability” of violence or using hyperbole would be counter to the core of my argument: a call to civility in speech. Skeptics of hypotheticals will always have a counter scenario argument so this is among the weaker types of evidence.

Framing the evidence to support a claim requires an ethical balance of the necessary evidence to prove a claim and persuade and audience based on their potential pre-existing assumptions and values (Ramage, 97). Logical appeal and the appropriate evidence to support claims of the author/speaker and to persuade the audience is housed here in the “angle of vision” (Ramage, 94). All of these considerations helped me to craft an effective letter, but I can’t helping thinking I could have presented more evidence and in a more effective manner after absorbing the text.



 Works Cited
Ramage, John D., et al. Writing Arguments: Rhetoric with Readings. New York. Pearson, 2010. Print.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Response to Myron Oliver's "It's Alive!"

In Myron Oliver's "It's Alive!", Myron takes us on a playful journey through logic, sensory, and emotions by introducing us to the concepts of Logos, Ethos, and Pathos in a three cornered fantasy land where the parts of the rhetorical triangle take on human like form eliciting audience appeal just by being who they are. This post reminded me a lot of a book I read about geometry called “Flatland” by Edwin Abbot in which the author tries to introduce the reader to complex concepts like spacial relation and perspective by giving human elements to lines, edges, other shapes, and plains in space.

In “It’s Alive!” Myron encounters Logos the Lumberjack and conceptualizes Logos for Myron right away by demonstrating that all things are possible through knowledge and understanding which - obviously has an impact on Myron. Paula Pathos tells the harrowing emotional story of survival which engages Myron’s heart. Barak Ethos engaged Myron by creating credibility because he could see and hear the elements in Barak’s wooden landscape. Before Myron meets the Lumberjack, Barack, or Paula he finds the landscape barren and frightful. Once he gets to know these folks, it seems like Myron is more at ease with the Rhetorical Triangle.

Works Cited
Oliver, Myron. "It's Alive!." N.p. 2011. Web. 18 April 2011. Myron's Log. 2011. http://myronslog.blogspot.com/2011/04/its-alive.html



Unit 2, Rhetorical Triangle

In a recent White House blog entry introducing President Obama’s Plain Writing Act of 2010, Cass Sunstein, the Administrator of the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs, wrote an appealing call for the use of plain language to streamline communications and cut costs throughout the Federal Government.
The introduction quickly applied pathos in a particularly timely way for me. I just finished my taxes and identified with the writer/speaker because I have been decoding tax schedules without much luck and relying a lot on computer software to decide things for me while wishing the language was presented more plainly. This blog entry was posted the day after tax day when it seems like everyone around me is reeling against the complexity of the tax code, so perhaps the consideration of Kairos (timing) in this post isn’t as innocent as it appears. Putting any supposed agenda aside, language in government documents touches everyone so this was a good attention grabbing introduction. I could see right away that the author was familiar with my discomfort with government documents.
According to a recent government project that was overhauled in plain language, communicating more clearly cut down on waste and spending. Sunstein cites a recent example within the Federal Communications Commission in which plain language replaced jargon about how HAM radio was regulated by the FCC. With the new language a single regulator could answer all of the questions about the rules that previously took the work of five FCC employees (Sunstein). In the first part of the entry there isn’t a ton of data presented about how much more efficient this process is overall – whether additional tasks were created in other FCC downstream departments regarding HAM radio operation. Since the bill was only enacted in October of 2010 there is unlikely much data confirming these savings, but it doesn’t matter because of the balance deployment of the rhetorical triangle.
Overall, the blog entry contains a good mix of narrative and data, both identifying with a reader’s personal difficulty with understanding Federal regulations and compliance standards when language is especially technical or specific and showing specific examples of cost-savings benefit in the numbers. These appeals to reason and logic (logos) and suggested sympathy for just plain folks who have to deal with complicated jargon (pathos) are effective.
To codify the evidence that using plain language works, Sunstein briefly calls out a study in the journal of the Indiana University’s Kelley School of Business by claiming that this outside source found up to $73 million in savings on wasted reading time in the US Navy’s standard memorandum writing format (Sunstein). Including this reference resonated with me because it created a lot of credibility by demonstrating an outside source could confirm the type of savings that Sunstein was claiming about the FCC and their own work. Because the necessary elements of ethos is layered throughout the entry, Sunstein is able to execute the argument effectively despite not presenting a lot of data because as the Administrator of the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs, Sunstein has credibility with an audience that bothers read the White House blog.

Works Cited
Sunstein, Cass. “Putting it Plainly”. White House 2011. Web. Accessed April 19, 2011.             <http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/04/19/putting-it-plainly>

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Response to Reading, Unit 1

“Choose your battles,” and “don’t sweat the small stuff” is common advice you might hear from your mom about avoiding a lover’s quarrel or letting go of a beef you have with your job.  Keeping the peace is an admirable goal, but asking tough questions while seeking truth and justice is far more important at home, in the workplace, or your everyday world. Right away, our text seeks to define the difference between and argument and a fight or a quarrel. “An argument doesn’t imply anger… [an argument is] a productive activity that engages us at high levels of inquiry and critical thinking” (Ramage 2).
This distinction between fighting and discussing to a fruitful end is one which should be embraced at the outset of any debate.  When I publically described a blatant and discriminatory experience I had with a local retailer, I wanted to change the way the store responded to similar situations in the future as well as send a message to the tight knit community that discrimination was both recognized as such and would not be tolerated. My friends said I was trying to start a fight.
After prolific discussion I found out that my friends have emotional ties to the mom-and-pop retailer and can relate to some of the financial and customer service struggles they have been having. When my complaint was heard by friends of the establishment, I learned that it felt like an attack to them because they were emotionally connected – not only to my poor experience, but also the outcome - all while not really being a stakeholder in either the original purchase or the profit. When other patrons who had been discriminated against in the same fashion came forward and joined the discussion, their responses were more tempered than my friends despite being directly involved in actual offensive transactions.  Though my experience was not a scientific experiment in a controlled environment, I got the sense that those who had something to lose/gain were most interested in a process with a solution than winning a debate about who was or wasn’t a bigot (Ramage 3).
Exploring an argument through discussion, freewriting, or idea mapping are all strategies for generating competing viewpoints for existing arguments (Ramage 25).The ”Believing and Doubting Game” introduced in Chapter 2 asks us to be wholly sympathetic to an idea – then stop – start over – and try to see an idea from a wholly judgmental and critical perspective (Ramage 30). If everyone participating in our critique of customer service at the retailer had taken the time to wholly believe in my experience and identify with my feelings about being treated poorly before chiming in- they might have found themselves more interested in solving the customer service quandary than degrading those who dared to complain. In contrast, if I had been able to see the retailer as a completely objective service provider with no feelings about my personhood one way or the other, I might have accepted that everyone who comes in the door receives poor customer service.  
Knowing the context, genre, and implied or stated biases of an article you read in the paper (or a group of friends weighing in on the issues of the day) is key to getting to the heart of an issue and coming up with a solution – not simply winning or losing a fight.

Works Cited
Ramage, John D., et al. Writing Arguments: Rhetoric with Readings. New York. Pearson, 2010. Print.

Response to Juli's Post "Writing is like Therapy"

In Juli Hall's post “Writing is Like Therapy”  I was reminded that sometimes writing down the big stuff like decisions or processes can help a group of two more individuals come to a consensus about what they know to be true – or at least what they thought was true.  
In my line of work I form what is known as a decision matrix to track and share how I came to a decision that was implemented. Sometimes I think this would be a lot more effective if I could just free write my understanding and decisions – but in that case my co-workers might learn a little bit more about my feelings than they bargained to know.
“Writing it out” has also helped me boil down my feelings before I shared them aloud with another person. When thoughts and emotions are coming at you from all directions it is important to know what to share and know what is really only something to acknowledge internally.  Actual honest to goodness journaling eludes me, however. I don’t have the discipline to return to a journal on a regular basis - which has given way to microblogging sites like Facebook and Twitter which only require short entries and can also convey mixed media like news articles or opinion pieces.
Most of my work and school notes are so messy nobody could be asked to follow along, but just glancing back at the chicken scratch from a week old project will jar my mind to remember the details and I can clear up any resulting confusion myself. On these occasions I cherish my note taking, even though outsiders would probably take one look at my process and wring their hands.  “Writing is like therapy, but it’s a lot less expensive,” is something that resonates with me even though I have been known to balk at something as short and sweet as a grocery list.



Works Cited
Hall, Julie. "Writing is like Therapy." N.p. 2011. Web. 22 March 2011. Juli's Blog. 2011. http://julihall.blogspot.com/2011/03/writing-is-like-therapy.html