How to Spot Arguments

We seem to argue all the time. People disagree on many issues and let each other know it, often at high volume. On the other hand, people too rarely give reasons for their positions. In that sense, arguments are not very common and not common enough. So, are arguments numerous or rare? That depends on what counts as an argument. This chapter will explore that question.

How much would you pay for an argument?

To understand what arguments are, we need to begin by asking what arguments are not. Some of the main contrasts are illustrated by an insightful troupe of philosophers named Monty Python in their famous skit, The Argument Clinic. If you have not seen it or do not remember it, you should watch it. It is a gem.

The skit begins with a customer walking up to the receptionist in the clinic and saying, “I’d like to have an argument, please.” The Receptionist replies, “It’s one pound for a five-minute argument, but only eight pounds for a course of ten.” Despite the savings in bulk, the customer decides to purchase only one five-minute argument.

The Receptionist then needs to find an employee in the clinic to argue with the customer. She looks at the schedule and says, “Mr. DeBakey’s free, but he’s a little bit conciliatory.” What’s wrong with being conciliatory—that is, likely to give in easily? Anyway, the Receptionist instead directs the customer to Mr. Barnard in room.

 The customer walks down the hall and enters the first room to find Mr. Barnard seated behind a desk. He aggressively yells, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” then calls the customer a “snotty-faced heap of parrot droppings” and a “vacuous, coffee-nosed, malodorous, pervert.” Annoyed, the customer explains that he came for an argument. Mr. Barnard nicely replies, “Oh. I’m sorry. This is abuse . . . . You want room 12A, just along the corridor.”

This silliness introduces our first contrast with arguments. Abuse is not an argument. I cannot argue for my position or against your position simply by calling you a “pervert.” Why not? Presumably because calling you a pervert does not give any reason against your position, much less any reason for my own position. It is surprising how often people forget this simple point.

Skipping ahead in the skit, the customer enters a different room, and Spreaders hits him on the head. When the customer reacts, he is told, “No, no, no. Hold your head like this, then go Waaah.” Then Spreaders hits him again. It turns out that this room is for “being-hit-on-the-head lessons.” This concept is absurd, but it reveals a second contrast with arguments. Arguments are not physical fights—or verbal fights. The goal of an argument is not to make an opponent’s head hurt (either by hitting him hard or by making him think hard).

When the customer finally reaches the correct room, a professional arguer named Mr. Vibrating is sitting behind a desk. The customer asks, “Is this the right room for an argument?” The clinician calmly replies, “I’ve told you once.” The heat rises from there: “No, you haven’t,” “Yes, I have,” “I’m telling you I did,” “You most certainly did not,” “Look, let’s get this thing clear; I quite definitely told you,” “No you did not.” The repetition is finally broken when the clinician asks, “Is this a five-minute argument or the full half-hour?” Then the customer realizes what is going on: He is already arguing. Or is he? The customer and clinician continue to say Yes-No-Yes-No-Yes-No until the customer bursts out, “Oh, look. This isn’t an argument . . . . It’s just contradiction . . . . An argument isn’t just contradiction.

Excerpt From: Walter Sinnott-Armstrong. “Think Again: How to Reason and Argue.”