In this chapter, you will learn:

  • How to arrange your argument in accordance with your audience’s expectations
  • The six-part classical template for persuasive arguments, and how to use it in your own persuasive writing

If you were an ancient Greek or Roman lawyer-in-training, your instructor would first teach you to invent as many arguments and counterarguments as you could. You would select the best reasons to support your claims. Then you would move to the next step, arrangement. After you learned what you could say and after choosing the best reasons to support your case, you would be ready to put things in the most persuasive order. The final chapter, in a similar fashion, teaches you to arrange the arguments you learned to invent while reading Chapters 8 and 9.

Types of Arrangement

Unlike invention, arrangement is often approached formulaically. Writers follow arrangement templates, often called “boilerplates.” They put the right parts in the right places. In the social sciences, for example, articles presenting new research tend to be arranged into four sections: (1) an explanation of the question or hypothesis that the researcher wants to answer; (2) a description of the methods that the researcher will use to answer this question; (3) a description of the data collected while applying this method; (4) an analysis of the data, featuring conclusions. Seen this way, writing a research article for an academic journal in the social sciences seems a bit like painting by numbers. If you follow the steps, you’ll write a good essay.

Such boilerplates are useful. We encourage you to learn them. But we also point out that boilerplates, by themselves, ignore the most important factor in arrangement—the audience. A boilerplate makes it seem like a good arrangement always follows a specific form. But the truth is that an effective arrangement presents information to a specific audience. Sometimes the boilerplate can guide the writer to meet the audience’s needs. But having all the parts arranged according to the boilerplate is less important than meeting the audience’s expectations. Social scientists expect researchers to ask new questions, to contribute new information, and to build on past research. The boilerplate that we describe above accomplishes these tasks. So social scientists appreciate articles that follow this template. Once an audience has learned a boilerplate, the arrangement shapes their expectations. Once upon a time, when the social sciences were new disciplines, there were many people with the same expectations but no boilerplates to guide their writing. As they wrote to meet one another’s expectations, they developed a template, which they all began to follow. Now students in the social sciences learn the boilerplate, and from the boilerplate, they learn to expect certain things from social-science writing.

Our main point is that good arrangement suits the audience’s expectations. Often, a boilerplate will guide you to a good arrangement, but you should keep in mind that a boilerplate is a rough guide to what a specific audience will likely expect. If the audience’s expectations differ from what is typical, the speaker must deviate from the boilerplate. Allow us to illustrate with two more examples of commonly used boilerplates.

The Specific-General Pyramid

The specific-general pyramid guides many information articles found in news venues. Journalism students learn this boilerplate because it meets the expectations of newspaper audiences. An article following this arrangement strategy will begin by mentioning specific information about a recent event. The first paragraph (or two) will offer details about a recent election, a murder, or a city council meeting. Subsequent paragraphs gradually introduce more background information to explain the specific event. A regular newspaper reader who has followed an election will not want to read all the background information—which candidate ran for which office under which party’s umbrella—because they will already know this information. They just want to know the election results. So they read the first few paragraphs and stop. On the other hand, a different reader who hasn’t been following a story will want all the background information. When he reads the first few paragraphs of an article about a bond election to fund road construction, he might realize that he should learn more, so he reads the whole article.

Our example illustrates that the specific-general pyramid addresses the needs of two audiences: those who already know about a story and those who don’t know but want to learn. A third audience is possible—those who don’t know and don’t yet care. For them, the savvy journalist will have to deviate from the specific-general boilerplate. Their article might open with a story about a particular person to show the audience why they should care. If the journalist can grab the audience’s interest by telling them a moving story about someone who suffers from Parkinson’s disease, then the journalist can get them to read an article about breakthroughs in genetic research. Throughout the article, this same journalist might occasionally say more about this person to keep the audience interested. The audience’s concern for an individual patient keeps them interested in the details of medical science. And to appeal to that concern, the speaker must deviate from the specific-general pyramid.

The Five-Paragraph Essay

Without a doubt, you learned to write a five-paragraph essay in your middle or high school English classes. The all-too-familiar arrangement is: (1) an introductory paragraph that discusses a broad topic and concludes with a thesis statement; (2) three body paragraphs, each beginning with a topic sentence and each supporting the introductory paragraph’s thesis statement; (3) a concluding paragraph that restates the thesis statement. The five-paragraph essay is the height of formulaic writing. After mastering this arrangement scheme, many students are disappointed to learn that it does not satisfy all audiences. The five-paragraph essay, nonetheless, does meet the expectations of writing teachers, especially those teaching inexperienced writers. This arrangement showcases the basic skills that will help students even after they’ve finished the last concluding paragraph of the last five-paragraph essay that they will write in their senior year of high school. The five-paragraph essay shows the teacher that a student can briefly state an argument. This arrangement also shows that the student can present several bits of evidence to support that argument. Finally, a well-written five-paragraph essay shows that the student can manage transitions from one paragraph to the next. In short, the five-paragraph essay shows the writing teacher that the student has learned important writing skills. And that’s what writing teachers expect to see in student work.

The five-paragraph essay is also useful for another audience—people who grade the exam portion of the SAT. But this audience has somewhat different expectations, so following the same five-paragraph essay boilerplate may get you into trouble. To begin with, graders do not have the time or the energy to read your essay carefully. They typically grade a stack of essays all at one time, dedicating seven or maybe ten minutes to each. Additionally, they are looking for specific evidence rather than reasons. While the College Board (the organization that makes and grades the SAT) says that a good essay will include “clearly appropriate examples, reasons, and other evidence to support its position,” most guides to the SAT emphasize that writers should focus on examples because that is the first thing listed by the College Board and because examples are easy for a grader to find. So you must modify the five-paragraph essay boilerplate to meet this new audience’s expectations. You must write a brief introductory paragraph that states its thesis as quickly and as clearly as possible. You must write a few (maybe three, maybe more, or maybe fewer) paragraphs, each featuring at least one example and each introduced by a clear transition. (The College Board also mentions that a good SAT essay will be “well organized and clearly focused, demonstrating clear coherence and smooth progression of ideas.”) Your arrangement must highlight transitions and examples to make sure a tired grader doesn’t overlook these moves if they are reading their 25th essay late one Tuesday afternoon.

Brief Exercise: The College Board has published descriptions of SAT essays here: http://professionals.collegeboard.com/testing/sat-reasoning/scores/essay/guide. After reading these descriptions, describe the College Board. What does this audience—SAT essay graders—expect? What kind of boilerplate would you develop to meet this audience’s expectations?

Experienced writers have learned many boilerplates, so they can write for many different audiences. And you should do the same. But as you learn these arrangement strategies, keep in mind that you’re really learning strategies for dealing with various audiences’ expectations.

Classical Template

The classical template is a flexible arrangement strategy that was taught—in one way or another—by ancient Greeks and Romans and that guides—in one form or another—contemporary arguments. As we present it, the classical template has six major components: exordium, narration, partition, argument, refutation, and peroration. Each part attempts to meet and then shape the audience’s reactions. Since audiences vary, each part of the classical template can do a range of things to convince an audience. Simply stating your main argument, naming your claims, and listing your evidence is not enough. The components we are about to describe are opportunities to offer your audience other reasons to think, feel, and believe.

A few things to note about the six components of the classical template:

  1. Each of the classical components can fit neatly into the boilerplate “Types of Arrangement” in the previous section. In fact, many of these parts will be extremely familiar to you because they have evolved over time into modern arrangements like the five-paragraph essay.
  2. Each component is not its own paragraph. For example, an exordium can be a few sentences where narration could, conceivably, last several pages.
  3. Every component does not have to be used in every argument. Each component could be used multiple times in different forms. Do what is useful to you.

Exordium

You’ve heard the term “introduction” before. Introductions typically accomplish a few things. An introduction may tell the audience the general topic that the argument will cover. It may give background information that the audience needs to know. It may give the audience a reason to care about the controversy. An introduction may also clarify any confusion that the audience might have. And it will probably state the argument’s principal claim or thesis. The classical template’s exordium attempts many of the tasks assigned to contemporary introductions. But the classical exordium does a lot less and a little more than the contemporary introduction.

An exordium must grab the audience’s attention, sparking their interest and earning their trust. If your audience comes ready to hear the argument, then you don’t need much of an exordium. If they are interested in the topic, then you don’t have to raise their interest. If they’re excited about the controversy, then you don’t have to show them why they should care. Finally, if they’re sympathetic to your cause and if they are confident in you as the speaker, then you don’t have to win their approval.

However, an exordium written to an uninterested audience must grab their attention. This is usually accomplished by presenting a reason to feel excited or concerned about the topic. The typical exordium to a disinterested audience opens with a vivid description: If you wanted to convince your audience to care about women’s equality in other countries, you could open with an example of a girl who has been denied an education by religious fundamentalists in Pakistan. If you want to convince your audience that they should care about tax breaks that encourage local businesses in small-town Texas, you could describe Fredericksburg’s flourishing downtown. An exordium written to a suspicious audience must give them a reason to trust you. Introduce yourself. Explain your credentials. Show the audience that you bear them goodwill.

As our description suggests, the exordium offers a brief space at the beginning of your argument, a place where you can give your audience reasons to feel excited or concerned about the subject. Furthermore, the exordium is an opportunity to give the audience a reason to trust you as a speaker. The audience may already feel interested, and they may already have confidence in you. For such an audience, the exordium simply needs to start the argument. Such an exordium may be as brief as, “Let’s talk about welfare reform.”

Narration

The narration gives the audience the background information they will need in order to understand the argument that follows. The narration does not have to immediately follow the exordium. And bits of narration can be spread around the entire composition. You may find it more effective to insert narration at various points in the argument, giving your audience new background information as you introduce new ideas.

Although no strategy applies to every audience, you can begin to plan the narration by considering two factors: the audience’s feeling toward the subject and the audience’s knowledge about the subject. An audience that feels averse to a subject may require a long narration to coax them toward a different disposition. The narration, in this case, would be entirely at the beginning of the argument. If, for example, you were arguing against the use of medical marijuana before an audience who supported complete legalization, then you might begin your argument with an extended narration of the drug’s history. Though these people may already know the history of marijuana—the laws and the effects relating to the drug—your narration can give them reasons to feel worried by telling a history that emphasizes the drug’s negative side, its connection to crime and its dubious medical value. Along the way, your extended narration will give them a reason to trust you as an authority on the subject.

On the other hand, an audience that is ignorant of the subject will need a narration that brings them up to speed, defining key terms, detailing important events, and introducing major players. Such a narration may partly appear at the argument’s beginning. To introduce an ignorant audience to the subject, you can give them basic information about the controversy in the first few paragraphs. Then, as your argument develops, you can insert moments of narration to provide background information as it’s needed. If quickly and deftly inserted, such narrative moments can inform an ignorant audience without disrupting the flow of the argument. These are narrative digressions: passages that turn away from the principal argument to accomplish some necessary but secondary task.

As we’ve emphasized, the narration can give the audience reasons to feel something about your subject; it can give them a reason to trust you as a speaker; and it can provide the audience with the background information they need to understand the argument. While the narration is not an opportune moment to present reasons to believe, it can set up later appeals by providing crucial bits of evidence that you can recall later in the essay. And, of course, a narration need not do any of this. If the audience is informed, sympathetic, and trusting, then you can skip the narration altogether.

Partition

Two kinds of sentences that you’ve no doubt learned about elsewhere are very basic forms of a partition: thesis statements and topic sentences. A thesis statement is a very brief partition at the end of an introduction. A topic sentence is an even briefer partition at the beginning of a paragraph. In a long argument, the partition prepares the audience by forecasting the principal claim and the manner of argument. A partition announces to the audience, “Hear ye! Hear ye! This is what I will say, and this is how I will say it!” Detailed partitions are especially appropriate when writing to an easily confused audience. If the argument is complicated, any audience will have trouble following it. If the audience is particularly inexperienced, they will have trouble following any argument. In either case, it’s a good idea to tell them what’s coming down the pike.

Partitions, though very functional, can be burdensome, and they’re rarely elegant. It’s hard to sound mellifluous or poetic when saying something like this:

  • Ex. “In this argument, I will give three reasons and substantial evidence to support my claim that carbon offsets are an ineffective way to address global climate change. First, I will define carbon offsets as a marketing gimmick, often called “greenwashing.” Then I will show why those selling carbon offsets should enrage rather than placate anyone who considers themselves an environmentalist. Finally, using examples of two companies that sell carbon offsets for air travel, I will demonstrate that these programs do not achieve their promised effects.”

Such a partition, though clear, is also dull. If the audience can follow the argument without a detailed partition, you should jump into the argument. If the audience needs a detailed partition but you don’t want to bore them at the outset, then you can opt for brief partitions inserted at key moments. At the beginning of each major section, using a transition statement, you can remind your audience of the previous reason and introduce the next one:

  • Ex. “Having seen that most carbon offsets are nothing more than “greenwashing,” you should understand why no environmentalist should feel good about them. In fact, we should feel angry that companies would sell them at all.” Of course, it’s possible that your audience will have no trouble following your argument, so they will not need any partition. Furthermore, including a partition risks turning away a hostile audience, for people often shut their ears once they hear something they don’t like. Speakers addressing hostile audiences might therefore risk a confusing presentation just to make sure that the audience won’t tune them out.

Argument

The argument is, as the name implies, the meat of any persuasive essay. After preparing the audience, narrating the background, and forecasting the arrangement, finally the speaker presents their easons. A couple pieces of standard advice can help you think about this section of your essay:

  • Though the argument is the most important part of your essay, it may not be the longest segment of your essay. As we suggest above, the first three parts in the classical template may take a lot of space. If you’re writing to a hostile audience that is ignorant on the subject, you will have to win their trust and provide copious background information. The exordium and the narration may take up half of the entire essay. If you’re writing to a sympathetic but disinterested and easily confused audience, you will have to get them excited and prepare them for a complex argument. The exordium and partition may take up a third of your essay. The basic lesson is that sometimes it takes more work to prepare an audience than it takes to convince them.
  • The argument itself must be arranged. You will likely have several reasons and a decent amount of evidence to present. You want to sequence this information together effectively. One strategy is to present your reasons and your evidence so that they reinforce one another. If, for instance, an image will elicit certain emotions only after you’ve earned the audience’s trust, then you should begin by giving your audience reasons to trust you. Another strategy is to arrange your reasons in an ascending pattern from the least persuasive to the most persuasive. This way, your audience’s commitment will steadily increase. And a third strategy is to place your weakest reason between your strongest reasons: Open with a convincing reason; follow with a less convincing reason; and conclude with the most convincing reason. Your audience will remember the reasons that you present first and last; they will forget the stuff in the middle.

Refutation

Chapter 9 offers strategies for refuting an opponent’s arguments so you can counterargue. The question now is, when to counterargue? In the classical template, refutation comes after the argument. You’ve made your case. Now show your audience why the opposition’s viewpoint is flawed. This arrangement—first argument, then refutation—assumes that the audience is ready to hear the argument. And this arrangement further assumes that, after hearing the argument, the audience will be mostly convinced; all that remains is to push the opposition aside. But sometimes an audience is so committed to the opposing viewpoint that they will not consider an argument unless they first hear a refutation (or some mixture of refutation, concession, and rebuttal). In this case, you should lead with the refutation. In fact, when addressing an especially hostile audience, speakers often choose to spend most of their time refuting the opposition, inserting the argument at opportune moments. For these reasons and many others, we encourage you to think of the refutation as a part of your arrangement that can move around as needed. Like narration, refutation can occur just about anywhere. Like partition, refutation should appear where it is best suited to the audience’s expectations.

Further Discussion: When you are considering the best manner of arrangement for your argument, the classical template will serve in most rhetorical situations; however, there are instances in which audiences may not initially trust you enough to listen to anything you have to say. If the audience is particularly hostile or suspicious, a better approach can be to reverse the classical template and compose what is called a Rogerian argument. This type of argumentation derives from the client-centered philosophy of American psychologist Carl Rogers, who felt that communication requires an atmosphere of trust. There are several strategies for doing so. The following arrangement template distills those strategies into a Rogerian boilerplate:

  1. Introduce your argument with a neutral, objective restatement of the opposition’s position. Don’t even hint at your own position. The whole point is to demonstrate that you understand the audience’s point of view and can articulate it in a way that they will accept.
  2. Begin each body paragraph by targeting a shared value. For example, if you are writing an argument about the need for more gun control and you are addressing the argument to an audience of NRA members, you might begin one of your body paragraphs by writing something like this: “As concerned citizens, we all believe in protecting our children against those who would do them harm.” Although the ways in which you and an audience of NRA members think children should be protected may differ, you both value your children’s safety. It is important that you do not begin by arguing your own position. Concede that your audience is right in many ways, and point out some of the problems associated with using guns to protect children. You might, for example, open with a narrative about how a parent successfully used a gun to protect his family from an intruder and then offer some equally compelling statistical evidence that suggests children are more likely to suffer harm when their parents keep guns at home. For many, gun control is a black-and-white issue; Rogerian argumentation attempts to make polarizing issues like gun control more complex.
  3. Finally, in your conclusion, state your principal claim(s). By this time, your audience should trust you enough to listen to what you have to say. And because you have been fair and neutral in your treatment of the issue, they will have good reasons to question their deeply held beliefs and consider your point of view.

Peroration

The peroration is the last thing your audience will read. Contemporary conclusions typically repeat the argument’s principal claim. In the five-paragraph essay, for example, the introduction and the conclusion both feature the thesis statement. If you’re writing to an audience that has trouble following the argument, then you should restate your principal claim in the peroration. Remind them of what you’ve said. But if you’re writing to an audience that will easily remember your principal claim, then you can do other things in your peroration. Two options immediately present themselves:

  • You can give the audience reasons to feel. Perorations are often emotional because the speaker must inspire the audience to act or because the speaker wants to make the audience strongly commit to a belief.

  • You can give the audience reasons to believe something new. If the audience is already sufficiently convinced of your principal claim, then you can extend it by suggesting further implications—other beliefs that follow from your argument.

Like the exordium, the peroration is an optional part of the classical template. If you’ve made your case well enough, if it’s inappropriate to raise emotions, and if it’s impossible to prove any new claims, then you can simply end the essay minimally, without a peroration.

Having discussed the classical template, we leave the final decisions about arrangement to you, the speaker.

Chapter Assignment: Identifying Classical Structures

Use an article or essay provided by your instructor or choose one of the articles you used for your annotated bibliography. Read through the article. Next to each paragraph (or each sentence), describe that part of the essay, using the classical template’s vocabulary. Are the first few sentences (or the entire first paragraph) an exordium? Does the second paragraph offer both a narration and partition? Where is the refutation? After describing the arrangement, evaluate it. Do you think the argument could be more persuasively arranged? How?