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Course Pack

TCORE 101- Introduction to Composition

table of contents

introduction
argument, analysis, and evidence in academic writing in the Humanities / 1
terms & definitions / 7
rhetorical components of writing
the rhetorical triangle / 9
writing & rhetoric / 12
writing about reading
close reading / 13
summary guide / 15
annotated bibliography / 17
academic argument
Toulmin’s ideas about argument / 20
low down on academic argument conventions / 21
recognizing warrants / 21
notes to remember for arguing a position / 22
making concessions & counterarguments / 23
thesis statements vs. arguable claims / 25
coming up with a juicy & arguable claim / 27
top 6 myths about claims for argument papers / 29
generating a claim / 30
how to tell a strong claim from a weak one / 31
evidence
better use of textual evidence / 32
evaluation of effective quoting / 33
3-step quotation analysis / 34
organization & style
writing effective introductions & conclusions / 35
organization and cohesion / 38
using transitions effectively / 39
common transitional words and phrases / 40
collocation sets / 40
writing good titles / 41
Peer review- providing feedback / 42
faulty logic- fun with fallacies / 43
technological components of writing
formatting your academic essay / 45
mla documentation / 46
sample works cited page / 50
evaluating your work
daily participation / 51
response papers / 52
annotated bibliography / 53
summary / 54
draft evaluation- essays / 55
essay checklist / 57
understanding your final grade / 58

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Course Pack

TCORE 101- Introduction to Composition

Updated on 10/12/2008

You will find handouts and rubrics for evaluation in this packet.

Use the “find” option to search for concepts and terms.

I will periodically add handouts to the end of this packet as needed.

Argument, Analysis, and Evidence in Academic Writing in the Humanities

Section excerpted from a handout written by Dr. Cathy McDonald (WWU).

Academics are known for always analyzing everything. It’s true: they have a habit of asking probing questions, a practice that is sometimes called “the spirit of inquiry.” One of the biggest differences between college literate practices and other discourses is that asking why—digging into the deeper meaning of things and questioning traditional knowledge—is a story frame prized by scholars. An analysis is an explanation of meaning beneath the surface. People who have been conditioned by academic inquiry use it to make sense of reality.

I want to offer a word of praise for academic argument. The spirit of inquiry that analysis demands teaches us to expect proof from all the competing voices in life that vie for our acceptance. There are countless people/systems trying to get us to buy into their ideologies. Whether they are commercials trying to get us to buy their products, salespeople trying to get us to buy their programs, in-laws trying to get us to do things their way, politicians trying to justify their actions, or preachers/teachers trying to get us to buy their ideas, they all want to sell us their beliefs. But the price we pay may be too expensive, because we must give them not only our money, but our minds (and sometimes our lives). If we don’t know how to listen with an open mind but still read in-between the lines and think for ourselves, we will always need others to think for us. Critical thinking—listening with an open mind but thinking for ourselves—is probably the best benefit we gain from habits of academic analysis.

What is Academic Argument?

Because academic thinkers are used to finding reasons why, they are also used to working with new and controversial ideas. Consequently, they are aware that their findings are open to debate, their claims will be read by a skeptical audience. Academic readers expect a writer to demonstrate an understanding of diversity of human experience and ideology, and to use logical explanations and substantial data to support an assertion. I always say that good writing has three E’s. It’s explicit, elaborated, and has exigency (an urgency or need to be said—the writer is engaged with the topic so that the message matters).

In a verbal conversation, you might call your argument just your opinion and leave it at that. In academic writing, your “opinion” is more than your preference, it’s your theory or your interpretation, backed up with credible evidence, the kind that constitutes academic proof.

Often the terms analysis and argument are used synonymously, but they are slightly different.

Your “argument” is your theory (claim, thesis, interpretation, assertion), backed up by credible evidence (proof, support, analysis). In order to be credible to an academic audience, convincing evidence is usually some kind of detailed analysis that looks for meaning beneath the surface. An analysis is a break down of an issue’s parts that helps us understand the meaning beneath: an analysis examines causes, the answer to the question why. Remember that just announcing or declaring your claim does not constitute evidence that supports it. Also, telling similarities/differences (compare/ contrast) rather than arguing reasons whyis not an analysis of meaning (telling is a kind of “obvious claim” that is not good argument).

What good academic argument is NOT:

  • An undebatable opinion or preference that “just is” (“I believe college athletes should get paid.” Or “I like college sports.”—No one can debate that you believe it or what you like.)
  • A statement of fact or obvious claim that “just is” (“College athletes do not get paid beyond their scholarship assistance.” Or “College athletics brings in millions of dollars of revenue for the university.”—No new knowledge here; the data is a verifiable report from public records)
  • A quarrel. This implies the winner has the right answer, the loser the wrong viewpoint. In academic argument, opposing viewpoints are both assertable, given credible evidence for support.
  • Written to people who agree with you and who are like you (“Everybody loves college sports.”—This is not true for everybody.)
  • Automatically controversial. Some argumentative essays do try to convince readers to agree with the author on a controversial issue (often called a “position paper”), such as a pro-life/anti-abortion essay, but those kinds of essays are rare in college writing. Better to think of it this way: An argument = your theory + credible evidence to back it up.

What counts as valid evidence?

That depends on the discipline, but for the humanities, here are kinds of good evidence:

  1. Reader-based writing rather than writer-based writing. “Reader-based” means that the reader does not have to do the work to figure out the meaning, why topics were brought up, how ideas connect to each other, etc. because the writer has done all the work in composing meaning and clarity. “Writer-based” means that the text seems to have been written for the writer’s use (like a diary entry, a grocery list, notes taken in class, etc.) and the reader has to do more work to figure it out.
  1. Elaborated development. Credible writing has ideas elaborated enough to thoroughly prove both the thesis claim and each single paragraph that discusses it. Imagine me at your elbow as you write every sentence, asking about each idea: “Why?” “What causes that?” “So What? What’s the significance of that?” “What evidence can you offer to prove it?” “How does this fit in with others have already written on your subject?” “Who is this not true for?” “Doesn’t your audience already know this?” “Why do those who oppose this view point think you’re wrong?” “What else is this connected to?” (The length of elaborated development makes humanities writing different from business writing or typical verbal discourse, both of which prefer a short, concise use of words.)
  1. Precise, exact wording; concrete and specific assertions; explicitclaims. This is a factor of Western writing’s love for direct, up-front assertions instead of anything that makes the text indirect or vague.
  1. An essay body consisting of a strong chain of reasoning: the flow of paragraph topics that coherently follow each other and progressively develop the thesis.
  1. Logic and reasons that conform to accepted values of a discipline (physical sciences, social sciences, or the humanities). A good way to check for logical integrity is by the pneumonic STAR: the evidence has to be sufficient, typical of the subject it represents, accurate, and relevant. Beware logical fallacies here like the “post hoc fallacy,” which is a faulty cause and effect argument. Just because you tell two things next to each other does not mean the first caused the second (“When ice cream sales go up in New York City, so does the crime rate; therefore, ice cream causes crime” is a post hoc fallacy). Be careful not to be “preachy,” but show understanding of the diversity of other perspectives
  1. Examples, data, statistics. Depending on what discipline you are writing in, this quantification is more or less crucial. Charts, numbers, etc. are most expected in the natural and social sciences. But just reporting quantifiable information is still not enough to articulate a compelling argument because you must go one step further to also express what the statistics mean. Merely stating some data, for instance that twenty-five percent of today’s population are college graduates, does not speak for itself; you must push and interpret what that percentage means and how it connects to your topic.
  1. The authority of experts (quotes, paraphrases, summaries), which I call credible textual support, well-chosen and smoothly integrated. A tricky way to smoothly work somebody else’s ideas into your writing is to make a “quote sandwich”—a three part package that introduces the author you’re referring to, then paraphrases or quotes the expert, and is followed by your explanation of what the reference means (or how it demonstrates your point). For example: “Genre scholar FrancesChristie explains that language generates meaning. She argues for ‘a view of language as something with which we construct the thing which is experience or reality’ (23). This view of the way words work sees language as not some neutral, natural reflection of meaning but a force that makes meaning itself.” Textual authority is probably the most important form of academic evidence, so always plan on using strong textual support. It usually requires some research to find relevant support, either in our assigned readings or from the library. A note of caution is in order, however, because even an article in a scholarly journal does not in itself constitute irrefutable proof because good evidence is plural. (We belong to a library system with hundreds of thousands of contradictory reports; finding one study that backs up your point may not convince supporters of the opposing viewpoint.)

Just to explain textual authority further, let me tell you how not to use it.

  • Quotes, paraphrases, summaries that don’t fit into your argument for any apparent reason (other than teacher said I had to quote someone, so I’ll throw one in). Nothing will prove you don’t know what you’re doing faster than using research that you don’t understand to discuss an issue that you’re clueless about in the first place.
  • Quotes, paraphrases, summaries taken out of context of what the author really meant
  • Quotes, paraphrases, summaries of questionable authors or sources (such as suspicious Web sites as opposed to scholarly journals, etc.)
  1. Concessions. Scholars from the humanities privilege a plural perspective, so they prefer writers to show thoughtful consideration of multiple sides of a topic rather than pretend certainty, which might be viewed as simplistic thinking. Further ideas that complicate the argument, acknowledge ambiguities, and make concessions when necessary are valued as evidence of intellectual rigor.
  1. The personal touch of (infrequently used) personal experience or narrative can be appropriate, too, as long as you don’t imply that your story represents everyone’s; a story can be an example. Often your experience makes you a “local expert” on your topic. This means that the word I can be useful in some college writing, despite what you may have been told in high school. (Note: this is true for humanities writing more than other disciplines.)
  1. Close reading. Many of the assignment prompts in humanities classes ask for some kind of interpretation, some kind of critical thinking, some kind of original analysis. Usually this comes in response to some “text” in the broad sense of the word, be it written (either literary or a non-fiction writing) or cultural (such as a movie, advertisement, etc.). Since this interpretation is a response to the text being analyzed, the process is often called “doing a close reading.” Evidence must come directly from many places in the text under investigation.
  1. Qualified wording rather than absolute statements. Words such as all, none, every are absolutes. All it takes is one example to the contrary to disprove an absolute claim. Some, many, most are qualifiers and make your idea seem more reasonable. “Leading scholars such as Schryer and Miller argue that…” instead of “Science has proven that…”
  1. Warrant. Explicit warrants are clear statements that explain why the sentence(s) immediately before make sense. In Craft of Research, the author says a warrant is an explanation that tells why the evidence counts. Think of a warrant as a piggy-back rider, a sentence that follows something and tells why the thing it follows is justified. Not surprisingly, warrants often contain the words therefore, because of, or since, etc.

Use a warrant to show 1) why the paragraph topic does indeed prove the thesis, 2) why the evidence in the middle of a paragraph does indeed prove the paragraph topic, and 3) what the unspoken assumptions are behind any single claim. For instance, the unwarranted claim “The color white in the ad suggests that the people are young” rests on the author’s presuppositions, and must have an explanation to warrant its logic. “Because white symbolizes purity and innocence, and youth is associated with innocence, the color white in the ad suggests that the people are young.”

If you are addressing people who already agree with your thesis, the reasons your claim makes sense are already apparent, but readers who differ from you do not share common beliefs and your very task is to convince them of your argument. (That’s why “preachy” writing fails in college essays: preachy statements rely on unspoken beliefs that you assume readers already agree with.) The more controversial your assertion, the more you need a warrant.

Think of argument this way:

Argument- “Not a disagreement, but the reasons, evidence, and explanations used in an attempt to encourage readers to agree with the theory of the writer.” This is similar to what a lawyer does in a courtroom because the lawyer knows that he or she must convince the jury in the presence of the opposing lawyer’s arguments.

Here is a chart that divides academic writing from how we often use words in other contexts.

Academic Audience Expectations / Non-Academic Audience Allowances
Direct/assertive/point driven / Indirect/rambling
Logic-based/ objective/
Personal used carefully as example / Emotion-based/ intuitive/ subjective/ personal used indiscriminately
Explicit/all topics are fully explained / Implied/asks the reader to read in-between the lines
Assumed audience is skeptical / Assumed audience already agrees with writer
Formal diction/ Standard Written English/ no slang / Informal diction/ conversational tone/ slang ok
Elaborated development/in-depth analysis with specific support / Superficial development/reductive discussion with sketchy support
Analytic approach/ expressive style only used to clarify meaning / Descriptive narrative/ stories told to show personal experience or opinion
Organized and structured on purpose / Random / shot-gun structure
Error free in order to be credible / Errors allowed (can be corrected in speech)

Different Disciplines= Different Expectations

Not all college writing is argument, but much is. The difference, however—and this is what makes undergraduate writing difficult—is that what constitutes good evidence in one discipline is not the same for all disciplines. In PatCurrie’s article “What Counts as ‘Good’ Writing?” her research shows that different professors hold different expectations for evidence. And papers in the natural sciences are not usually argument essays. In expository writing for instance, such as scientific reporting, you do not assert your own interpretation of the meaning beneath the facts. (Note the beginning of the word “expose” in expository.) Your job there is to expose or reveal the facts, not analyze them. It is as if you imply to the readers: “Here’s a combination of data for you, but I’m just the reporter.” It is important for students to recognize that what makes sense in one discipline in the university may not work in a different discipline. A good essay for your engineering professor will not work for English courses. What you did in high school will not work in college. We will study these differences when we talk about “disciplinarity.” The big point that you can learn in this writing class is that in order to write well, first you must analyze the writing scene and situation, and then employ the genre conventions that best suit the need to write.