In Thank You For Arguing, Heinrichs aims to help you debate meaningfully, spot and call out weak arguments, and appeal to a wide audience. He hopes that if we learn these rhetorical skills that created democracy in ancient Greece and influenced America’s founding fathers, we’ll think more critically—transforming the way we talk about politics and helping us elect wiser, future-focused candidates rather than resorting to tribalism.
Jay Heinrichs, a professor of rhetoric at Middlebury College, originally wrote Thank You For Arguing in 2007 to rekindle interest in the lost art of rhetoric. It’s since become a New York Times bestseller and the leading modern text on rhetoric. He released a fourth updated version in 2020 to keep up with the ways political discussions are evolving, especially as social media amplifies opinions. Heinrichs notes that this book focuses more on talking politics than on politics themselves.
A knowledge of rhetoric—the art of persuasion—is valuable because persuasion shows up in many aspects of life, explains Heinrichs. If you’ve ever spoken with a salesperson, discussed a project with colleagues, listened to a political debate, or tried to reason with your child, you’ve dabbled in rhetoric.
(Shortform note: Heinrichs notes that many people don’t understand rhetoric because most schools have stopped teaching it in recent decades. Yet rhetoric’s importance is surging in our current knowledge economy. Studies show that up to 25% of America’s total income results from persuading others to act on ideas—for example, persuading investors to put their money into your project or persuading clients to choose your services over your competitor’s.)
Heinrichs argues that when you understand rhetoric, you can:
We’ll begin by explaining the basics of rhetoric, including the goals and attributes of a successful, persuasive argument. Then, we’ll explore the three main persuasive appeals—ethos, logos, and pathos—and how you can use your knowledge of each to persuade others or to judge others’ arguments. Finally, we’ll look at rhetoric’s place in society today and discuss how you can be part of a critical-thinking shift that Heinrichs believes is happening across America.
Heinrichs explains that, in rhetorical terms, the purpose of an argument isn’t to beat your opponent, but to persuade them. He says persuasive arguments have three essential parts: a clear goal, a focus on the right issue, and the right audience appeal.
First, he says, determine the outcome you want. There are three possible goals:
(Shortform note: The authors of Crucial Conversations explain that having your big-picture goals in mind helps you avoid negative behaviors—such as trying to punish the other person or agreeing in order to keep the peace—that sabotage your chances of having a mutually agreeable outcome. Additionally, clear goals can enhance your flexibility and creativity in an argument. Since you’re guided by the idea of where you want to end up rather than how you’ll get there, you’re free to use any tactic that moves you toward the goal.)
Heinrichs explains that, according to classical rhetorician Aristotle, all arguments boil down to three issues: blame, values, and choice. You can usually identify the issue at the center of your argument by paying attention to the tense you and your opponent are using.
Blame: past tense. Rhetoric focused on the past usually aims to seek justice, and it isn’t a productive way to argue—instead of finding a solution, you and your opponent point fingers and decide what “punishment” the other person deserves. This might look like, “It’s not my fault the night was ruined. You invited Jan to the party,” or, “Of course I’m angry. You forgot to pick up dinner.”
(Shortform note: The authors of Difficult Conversations call fights in which both parties fixate on blame the “What Happened” conversation. In these types of conversations, Heinrichs—as we’ll see—would suggest switching the conversation into future tense and focusing on possible choices. However, this switch is easier said than done. The authors suggest a smaller step out of the blame game: the “contribution system,” where each person names their own contribution to the issue. While this system still deals in blame, in a sense, it puts a stop to finger-pointing and justice-seeking.)
Values: present tense. Rhetoric of the present aims to separate wrong from right, using tribalistic language to unite groups against a common enemy. Heinrichs says this “us versus them” mentality creates division, so it isn’t helpful to your goal of consensus-seeking. Politicians often rely on this rhetoric to appeal to your values while vilifying the opposing party: This bill is wrong for the American people, yet my opponent supports it.”
(Shortform note: Present-tense rhetoric is the opposite of the “I” statements that experts recommend for conflict resolution. Whereas “I” statements are meant to pit both parties against the problem (“I feel that this bill will be detrimental to numerous neighborhoods in the city”), present-tense rhetoric pits both parties against one another (“You’re wrong about the effects of this bill”).)
Choice: future tense. Rhetoric of the future centers on deliberating among different choices to come to a conclusion that all parties agree with. Focusing on choices leads to productive arguments that end in consensus, without getting stuck on fault or wrong versus right.
If you notice your conversation lapsing into past or present tense, Heinrichs recommends regaining control by asking a future-focused question, such as “What can we do about it?” or, “How do we avoid this in the future?”
Other Questions to Consider
While Heinrichs suggests a few helpful questions to get your conversation onto a future-focused track, they rely on the other person having a suggestion on how to move forward. If the other person doesn’t have a suggestion, try asking in a different way:
“What do you want?” If the other person doesn’t know the exact path they’d like to take forward, this question helps them articulate their desired outcome. From there, you can deliberate about the best next steps.
“If we could do it again, what would it look like?” If the other person doesn’t have a clear idea of what they want or how to avoid the same issue in the future, this question helps them retrace their steps and see where things might have gone wrong.
Change the focus. If you keep getting stuck on issues of the past or present, try making a suggestion that splits the problem into the issue and the solution and directs the conversation toward the solution. For example, you might say, “It seems like we’re getting stuck on who made this decision. Let’s refocus on how we’re going to get this project done on time.”
By now, you’ve determined your goal and know to focus on future-tense issues of choice (the first two building blocks of rhetoric). Lastly, Heinrichs says, you’ll use Aristotle's three classical persuasive appeals—ethos, logos, and pathos—to achieve your goal.
(Shortform note: Heinrichs doesn’t make it explicitly clear if you’re meant to use one or all three of these appeals in an argument. To clarify: You’ll use all three, but will give more weight to whichever appeal is most important to achieving your goal. For example, if you’re an outsider to the audience you’re speaking to, you’ll have to spend extra time on ethos so they see you as someone worth listening to. If you’re not sure which appeal will serve you best, aim to strike a balance among all three.)
The first persuasive appeal, ethos, convinces your audience that you’re trustworthy and puts them in the mood to listen to you. Heinrichs outlines three elements to a strong ethos appeal: virtue, disinterest, and practical wisdom.
When your audience believes that you share the same values as they do, they see you as someone virtuous, or trustworthy and aligned with their cause. Heinrichs explains that the key to appearing virtuous is meeting your audience’s expectations, or fitting in with them—from your appearance and manner of speaking to your interests and sense of humor. When your audience believes you’re in sync with them, they find you easier to like, listen to, and trust.
(Shortform note: Psychologist Robert Cialdini’s Social Proof Theory provides some insight on why fitting in with an audience makes them easier to persuade. The theory posits that people who are unsure of what to do will look to others for guidance and imitate them. Cialdini identifies similarity as a motivator of the Social Proof Theory—people are most likely to look to and imitate someone they perceive to be similar to themselves or relatable in some way.)
Heinrichs suggests three areas in which to align with your audience: values, experiences, and appearance.
1) Demonstrate shared values: Don’t talk about your personal values. Instead, speak to the values of your audience—even if you don’t necessarily believe those values to be true or right. People who think you share their values will naturally trust you more, making it easier for you to persuade them of something they’d normally be opposed to. For example, despite his wealth, Donald Trump succeeded in convincing working-class people that he’s one of them. As a result, his supporters strongly agree with his actions—even if they’d disagreed with the same actions previously.
2) Demonstrate shared experiences: Pay attention to your audience’s identity, then change the way you speak about your experiences to match. For example, you’re arguing that taxes should be raised to increase public school funding. Though you went to private school and your opponent went to public school, you can match your experience to his by explaining how your volunteer experience with underfunded city schools convinced you that greater funding boosts student success.
3) Demonstrate shared appearance: Heinrichs suggests matching the way you look and sound to audience expectations—in other words, dress like them and speak like them.
Is Ethos Just Another Word for “Selling Out”?
Some may find Heinrichs’s suggestions for fitting in confusing or manipulative, misinterpreting his guidance here as encouragement to “sell out” or lie to get what you want. However, he doesn’t suggest that you betray yourself or lie about your values, experiences, or the way you look or sound. Rather, he’s suggesting that you find the existing parts of yourself that align most closely with your audience and highlight those points. In other words, he doesn’t encourage you to lie—he encourages you to be selective about what parts of yourself to show.
This distinction matters because lying is a risky way to persuade others—if you’re found out, you lose all credibility and destroy your reputation. For example, respected journalist Brian Williams lied about having a dramatic, dangerous experience in Iraq. Once people discovered his lies, they lost trust in him as a journalist.
The second element of ethos is disinterest: demonstrating that you don’t have any personal interest (financial or otherwise) in the argument. You only care about making the choice that’s best for the audience. Heinrichs outlines three methods for demonstrating disinterest.
Act as if you’d like to disagree with your conclusion, but have no choice but to accept it. Explain how you started from your audience’s viewpoint but had to switch due to overwhelming evidence. Heinrichs says that this makes your opinion seem balanced while making your opponent’s opinion seem unreasonable or ignorant.
(Shortform note: This method may not be as effective as Heinrichs suggests. Experts warn that making your viewpoint seem like the obvious choice, thereby sending the message that your opponent’s viewpoint is stupid, can make them feel defensive or angry. These emotions may drive them to double down on their argument.)
In discussing the consensus you want, emphasize how it’ll personally harm you—Heinrichs explains that this persuades your audience that the outcome benefits them, not you.
(Shortform note: While emphasizing personal sacrifice may be persuasive, be careful not to overuse this tactic. Constantly highlighting the sacrifices you’re making for the “greater good” may lead people to believe that you have a martyr complex, and your claims of self-sacrifice will lose their credibility.)
Smooth talkers often aren’t persuasive because they seem too sure of themselves—their claim to be acting in the audience’s interest appears scripted or inauthentic. Heinrichs suggests showing authenticity by appearing doubtful or insecure about your delivery or argument’s content.
(Shortform note: There are several psychological explanations for this tendency to root for an underdog, or someone who seems unsure of themselves. First, people find underdogs more relatable than top performers, and therefore more likable and influential (recall the Social Proof Theory—you’re more easily influenced by someone similar to you). Second, an unexpected success triggers stronger positive feelings than a predictable success.)
The third element of ethos is demonstrating practical wisdom: the ability to make the right decisions at the right time. This persuades your audience that you’re a trustworthy person worth following—any choice you make is the right thing to do.
(Shortform note: Note that Aristotle didn’t name this aspect of ethos “practical intelligence” or “practical knowledge.” Practical wisdom isn’t about how smart you are—it’s about nurturing a careful relationship between theory and practice. The “practical” comes from practicing, and the “wisdom” comes from questioning the different parts of your practice and reflecting on whether they could be done better.)
Heinrichs says good persuaders use the following methods to show off their practical wisdom.
Heinrichs notes that audiences almost always trust someone who shows evidence of real-life experience over someone who has book smarts. Talking about relevant experiences demonstrates that you have previous knowledge of how to effectively work through the issue.
(Shortform note: Heinrichs doesn’t note that this aspect of practical wisdom may not be useful to all his readers. Demonstrating experience is an area where women may have particular difficulty establishing a strong ethos due to the “Likability Trap”: Generally, the more experienced women are, the less others perceive them as likable.)
If the rules aren’t the best way to get things done, don’t follow them—instead, Heinrichs urges, demonstrate your know-how by approaching a problem in an off-script way that a rookie would never think of.
(Shortform note: Besides similarity, another motivator for the Social Proof Theory is expertise: You’re likely to seek guidance from someone that demonstrates that she understands a situation at least a bit better than you do. Breaking the rules strategically not only demonstrates that you know the subject at hand, but also that you’ve gained enough expertise to have a couple tricks up your sleeve.)
Your knowledge of ethos can help you determine whether you should listen to someone. When listening to a persuader, Heinrichs suggests you determine their trustworthiness by examining their virtue, disinterest, and practical wisdom.
According to Aristotle, someone of virtuous character focuses on choices that align with the opinions of their average audience member. Essentially, a virtuous persuader will offer solutions that appeal to the widest possible range of their audience. (Shortform note: As we’ll see later in this guide, the definition of “virtuous” has changed drastically over time, and not for the better.)
Heinrich notes two ways to listen for virtuous moderation.
Looking for a middle-of-the-road solution works best in situations where you have a clear, numerical range such as a budget—the “middle” is easy to see.
For example, a virtuous salesperson will ask you for your spending range and help you find a solution that falls around the middle of your range. In contrast, an unvirtuous salesperson won’t ask you for a range at all, or will try to shift your range to an extreme well above the amount you were planning to spend.
(Shortform note: You’ll likely more often see unvirtuous salespeople—in negotiations, the concept of virtuous moderation is referred to as “splitting the difference.” According to Chris Voss (Never Split the Difference), splitting the difference means you’ve lost the negotiation or argument, so it’s not a popular tactic.)
To determine virtuousness when discussing relatively ambiguous concepts, listen for extremist labeling. Heinrichs describes the process of listening for extremist labeling:
(Shortform note: What Heinrichs doesn’t mention about this process is how difficult it may be in practice. It seems rational and obvious to weed out extreme opinions and choose a safer moderate option. However, it’s human nature to do the opposite: Your brain is wired to ignore subtle or ordinary information and focus sharply on extreme or surprising information. While you may have the intent to ignore extreme opinions in favor of average solutions, you’ll likely have to remind yourself that just because an opinion is interesting, loud, or attractive doesn’t mean that it deserves your attention.)
To determine your persuader’s disinterest, or impartiality, consider whether the choice she offers meets your needs or hers. If there’s a clear disconnect between your needs and the choice, Heinrichs says you can be sure that your persuader is driven by self-interest. On the other hand, if the choice seems to align with your needs, you can trust that your persuader’s goal is an outcome that’s advantageous for all.
(Shortform note: Be careful in looking out for whose needs your persuader is meeting—people who are especially skilled in manipulation or negotiation know how to make you believe your needs are being met. Ask yourself honestly what the outcome of their proposed choice is—focus on the reality, not the promise, of the outcome. Trust your judgment: If the reality doesn’t match the promise and doesn’t meet your expressed need, walk away.)
Heinrichs says that the third sign of a trustworthy persuader is showing that their practical wisdom is useful to your particular situation. He outlines several clues to look for.
Someone with practical wisdom demonstrates that she has personal experience finding solutions to problems comparable to yours. For example, if you’re looking for a contractor for renovations in your 1800s home, you’re most likely to choose the one who says, “This reminds me of an 1840 Victorian I worked on last year.”
(Shortform note: Many people think that because someone is generally wise, they’re trustworthy in all situations. Research shows that this isn’t the case—wisdom varies greatly depending on the situation you’re in. Seeking out someone with experience ensures that you’ll be getting wisdom tailored to your specific situation.)
Someone with practical wisdom understands that most situations don’t have a one-size-fits-all solution, so they’re careful to understand a situation fully before suggesting solutions. Heinrichs warns that if your persuader gives advice or solutions without asking for clarification on your situation, their advice isn’t trustworthy. For example, if you ask potential dog trainers, “How much exercise should my dog be getting?” a trainer with practical wisdom will take time to understand your situation rather than responding generically: “That depends on various factors. How old is your dog? What breed?”
(Shortform note: This clue is a trickle-down representation of Socrates’s idea that wisdom lies in knowing that you don’t know everything. Someone who is wise and trustworthy acknowledges that they need more information, while someone who is “smart” but untrustworthy feels that they already have all the necessary information.)
The second persuasive appeal, logos, bolsters arguments meant to achieve the goal of changing your audience’s mind. Heinrichs explains that logos helps you use your audience’s logic and beliefs to make your desired choice look as advantageous as possible. This means presenting the argument most persuasive to your audience rather than most persuasive to you.
(Shortform note: According to psychologists, nothing is more persuasive to a person than their own argument because we have a natural preference for consistency. In other words, we’d much prefer to stick by our viewpoint than switch to a new one. By mirroring your audience’s existing viewpoint, your argument circumvents this issue.)
Heinrichs explains that there are four steps to using logos effectively: finding your audience’s truism, determining the most persuasive reasoning type, defining the argument terms to your advantage, and turning your focus to the future.
You first need to figure out your audience’s truism: a commonly held opinion or belief that represents the audience’s values. Heinrichs notes that different audiences will hold different truisms because truisms aren’t factual—a truism is more like a rule of thumb. For example, “I have a lot of money” is a fact. On the other hand, “Being rich is good because it means you’ve worked hard” is a truism.
(Shortform note: Whether you’re aware of it or not, most advertising these days is meant to tap into your truisms. In All Marketers Are Liars, Seth Godin explains that while older marketing models relied on marketing leading the customer’s buying habits, modern marketing models let the customer lead the marketing. In other words, advertisers keep close tabs on your behaviors and habits to better understand your beliefs and world perspective, and then tailor their marketing campaigns to match.)
Heinrichs cites three ways to spot your audience’s truisms:
1) Repetition: Listen to the way your audience communicates. Often, they’ll have certain terms or phrases they repeat—these are their beliefs and opinions. For example, someone might say, “The candidate’s honesty is refreshing. I appreciate a politician who tells it like it is. With all the misinformation in DC nowadays, you want someone who gives it to you straight.” This person’s truism is that perceived honesty is desirable in a candidate.
(Shortform note: In Difficult Conversations, the authors note that repetition is a sign that someone feels like they’re not being heard. When you listen to—and use—someone’s repeated truism in your argument, you give yourself a significant leg up just by demonstrating that you’ve been listening closely to them.)
2) Rejection: If you present a choice that your audience rejects, listen to the phrases they use in rejecting you—often they’ll offer reasoning that reveals their truism.
For example, you’re trying to get a friend to adopt one of your pit bull’s puppies. She refuses, saying, “What’ll I do when it gets big and aggressive?” You explain that pit bulls aren’t necessarily an aggressive breed. “No way,” she says. “What if it bites my kid?” You stress that socialization and proper training prevent aggression. “Well,” she says, “a labrador would never go after you like a pit bull would.” From this exchange, you know your friend’s truism: Pit bulls are a dangerous and aggressive breed.
(Shortform note: If your audience isn’t forthcoming with their opinions, you can try to spur them on with what Kim Scott (Radical Candor) calls “loud listening.” This type of listening involves saying something that will prompt the other person to react strongly or push back on what you have to say—in all likelihood, exposing their truisms in doing so.)
3) Labeling: Sometimes, Heinrichs points out, people label an idea or proposition to make you feel a certain way about it. For example, politicians call tax cuts “tax relief” because people can generally agree on the truism, “It’s a good thing to be relieved of excessive taxes.”
(Shortform note: If you catch your opponent using labeling, be careful to stay focused on the central issue. Many people use labels as a “red herring” that distracts you from the main issue and sends you down an unrelated argumentative path.)
Next, in an appeal based on logos, Heinrichs says you’ll use what you know of your audience’s values to either use their truism to your advantage (through deductive reasoning), or create a new truism that they can get on board with (through inductive reasoning).
A truism is “usable” when the choice you offer aligns with your audience’s beliefs. In these cases, you’ll use deductive reasoning, which uses the truism to demonstrate that your choice is best for them.
Heinrichs advises using an argument that connects the belief with an action: “Because you believe [truism], you should [choice].” You don’t explicitly state that the choice will deliver on the opinion or belief—instead, you depend on juxtaposition to prompt the audience to infer a link between the two.
For example, if your audience’s truism is that the American health care system should be improved, your argument might look like, “If you think the American health care system should be improved, you should vote for the Green Party.” You never state that the Green Party will do something to improve the health care system, but your audience will assume there’s a link.
(Shortform note: The argument that builds out of deductive reasoning is what Aristotle called the enthymeme. The defining characteristic of an enthymeme is that one of the premises that leads to the conclusion is omitted or implied—in the example above, the implied premise is, “The Green Party has a plan to improve the health care system.” Be aware that an astute audience may pick up on the fact that the vital premise that leads to the conclusion is missing—so be ready with an answer in case they ask you about it.)
A truism is “unusable” if a) you don’t know what it is, b) it seems that your choice is far from your audience’s beliefs, or c) the audience doesn’t have clear shared beliefs.
In these cases, Heinrichs says, you’ll need to use inductive reasoning, or give examples through facts or storytelling that prove your choice is the best one. (You can think of this as the inverse of deductive logic—whereas deductive logic views circumstances through the filter of audience belief, inductive logic creates the circumstances that form the belief.)
For example, your audience can’t agree on whether the health care system needs improvement, so you can’t use it as your truism. Change your reasoning to inductive—create proof that the Green Party is the best choice: “Studies show that cities with Green Party leadership have lower levels of pollution and higher levels of regular exercise. So, these cities pump fewer taxpayer dollars into Medicare and put more into education and infrastructure. I don’t know about you, but I’d love to see my taxes fixing our roads instead of being unnecessarily spent on preventable diseases! The Green Party can make that happen.”
(Shortform note: Heinrichs’s section on inductive reasoning is likely an area of focus for his critics that call his suggestions manipulative or deceptive. Inductive reasoning can feel like an especially problematic aspect of rhetoric because it relies heavily on inferences and comparison between non-alike subjects—thereby leading to inaccurate inferences and unfair judgments.)
Once you’ve figured out what your audience values, or you’ve given them something to value, use this knowledge to attach positively regarded terms to the concepts you’re going to argue. Additionally, be careful to refuse any negative or anti-truism terms your opponent tries to place on you. Heinrichs explains that these practices help you put your argument into a context that you control.
(Shortform note: Controlling the context of the argument is critical to your success because of the many subtle messages it sends to your audience. From context, they understand how much importance to place on your argument versus your opponent’s and what assumptions they can make about each person’s argument. If you lose control of the context, your audience may find your opponent’s argument more important and assume that their proposed choices will be better.)
Heinrichs notes several tools for tilting an argument in your favor: creating your own terms and redefining your opponent’s terms.
Frame issues in a way that emphasizes your audience’s truisms or beliefs—Heinrichs says this lends emotional impact to your argument. Attach positive and appealing terms to yourself and negative or unappealing words to your opponent.
For example, in speaking to a fiscally conservative audience, you might call yourself “fiscally responsible” and your opponent “a frivolous spender.” In speaking to a fiscally liberal audience, you might call yourself “focused on sustainable choices” and your opponent “wasteful.”
If your opponent attaches certain terms to you, Heinrichs advises that you accept them, but redefine them so they work in your favor.
Imagine an opponent tries to attack your bid to increase funding for the postal service: “The postal service is outdated!” You can reply, “If by ‘outdated’ you mean ‘providing essential services to our country’s citizens for decades,’ then yes, it’s outdated.” Here, you’ve turned the negative “outdated” label into a positive.
Why Do the Terms Matter So Much?
Attaching certain terms to yourself, your opponent, and your argument is important because, as Jonathan Haidt explains in The Righteous Mind, humans respond more strongly and quickly to intuition than they do reason. In other words, when you attach positive terms to yourself and your argument and negative terms to your opponent, your audience immediately, intuitively feels that you’re the better choice.
Even as their rational brains catch up and start to think critically about the arguments that you and your opponent present, their first impression of you sticks with them and gives you a significant leg up.
Once you’ve identified the truisms and landed on a crowd-pleasing definition of the issue, move your argument toward the future—that is, explain what you plan to do about it.For example, you might say, “I want the postal service to continue providing its essential services. That’s why I’m proposing a new program that helps get younger employees in the door.”
(Shortform note: When announcing your plan, remember to continually remind your audience of its value to them. In Radical Candor, Kim Scott notes that when you fail to regularly communicate the value of a decision or plan to those affected by it, they start to feel unimportant and disconnected—feelings that may lead them to eventually turn against you.)
In the last section, we talked about logos, or rationale. In this section, we’ll look at ways to spot fallacies—weak, faulty, or illogical arguments your persuader might use to gloss over the gaps in their logic. Heinrichs emphasizes that while formal logic must be correct, rhetorical logic must only feel right. Instances of faulty reasoning, or rhetorical fallacies, are important to spot because logical gaps are a clear sign that someone is trying to persuade you of something.
(Shortform note: Note that an argument using rhetorical logic isn’t invalid due to its use of fallacy—this section is meant to raise your awareness of logical tricks a persuader may use, but doesn’t state that these tricks mean the argument is bad or the persuader is wrong. Dismissing a persuader’s conclusion as false simply because they used a fallacy is a fallacy itself, called “the Fallacy Fallacy.”)
Rhetorical fallacies typically fall into three categories—weak proof, wrong number of choices, and a proof-conclusion disconnect.
Heinrichs says that weak proof fallacies often initially seem convincing. However, if you inspect the argument more closely, you’ll find that the proof doesn’t support the conclusion. Examples include:
False analogy: Your persuader argues that because she’s successful in one way, she’ll be successful in an unrelated way. You’ll see this frequently in politics. Many candidates discuss their life experiences—as a mother or a soldier or a businessperson—as “proof” of their ability. However, these experiences are unrelated to political experience and doing well in public office.
(Shortform note: Persuaders often use this tactic in a more subtle way than claiming that their experiences directly translate into ability. Instead, they use their experiences to convince you that they understand you in a way other people can’t, compelling you to trust them. For example, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez ran much of her campaign for Congress on her background as a bartender in New York City. She pushed the idea that, with her background, she’s equipped to understand other “regular people” in a way most politicians can’t.)
Fallacy of power: Your persuader tries to convince you that because someone in a position of power made the same choice she’s advocating to you, it must be right. However, a powerful person won’t always make the best choices, and their choice may not be best for you. For example, if a colleague wants to convince you to start work at 6 a.m., he might say, “The CEO is always in his office by 6. If he does it, it must be a good idea.”
(Shortform note: This fallacy is often effective because it taps into a particular “heuristic,” or automatic shortcut your brain creates to quickly analyze situations and make decisions. Throughout your life, you were likely trained to obey and trust authority figures—this formed a heuristic: When an authority figure says something is the right thing to do, your brain automatically accepts it.)
Heinrichs warns you to keep an eye on how many choices your persuader is giving you in their argument. Bad conclusion fallacies often give you only one or two choices, instead of the true range of available choices. The most common version is the false dilemma fallacy:
False dilemma: This fallacy frames your choice as “either, or” when there are actually many choices available. For example, if your CEO is looking for ways to save money, he might say, “We can cut either overtime pay or Christmas bonuses.” There are many ways for an organization to save money, but the false dilemma restricts the choices to two types of pay cuts.
(Shortform note: In The Art of Thinking Clearly, Rolf Dobelli says that by artificially constricting your options, this fallacy can easily manipulate you into choosing the “better” of the two given options (though often, neither is particularly good). He suggests taking a step back to consider a wider pool of alternatives that your opponent may be keeping from you.)
Heinrichs explains that proof-conclusion disconnect fallacies either deliver a conclusion that’s irrelevant to the argument, or they create a false link between proof and conclusion.
The straw man fallacy: Your opponent focuses on one part of your argument and distorts it, misinterprets it, or oversimplifies it so that it becomes an easy-to-attack “straw man.” For example, “You’re against abstinence-only sex education? You’re basically encouraging teenagers to have sex and end up pregnant.” The argument shifts from the complex issue of sex education toward the simple, easy-to-attack issue of whether to encourage teen pregnancy.
(Shortform note: It can be frustrating to have your opponent distort your argument in this way, but be careful not to engage with their distortion. This is what they want—for you to adopt, in any way, the easy-to-attack position they’ve assigned you. Instead, stay calm and continually redirect the conversation back to the original argument: “I think you’ve gotten off track here. What we’re discussing is what type of sex education to provide in our school.”)
The Chanticleer fallacy: This fallacy assumes that when one incident follows another, the first must have caused the second (named for the fabled rooster Chanticleer, who thought that his crowing caused the sun to rise). In other words, there’s a mix-up between causation and correlation. For example: “Women who own horses have a longer average lifespan than those who don’t. Having a horse therefore contributes to longevity.” This argument assumes that horse ownership causes longevity, but the two are only correlated. It’s more likely that the type of women who can afford horses can also afford top-notch health care.
(Shortform note: If your opponent uses this fallacy to convince you of causation where you feel there may only be correlation, try deliberately slowing down your thinking. Look for more obvious causes by repeatedly asking yourself, “Why?” (for example, “Why would the type of women who own horses live longer?”) and considering the situation’s nuances.)
The third persuasive appeal after ethos and logos is pathos, or emotion. Heinrichs notes that our emotions are much stronger than our rationale—therefore, a pathos-based argument is best for accomplishing the most difficult of the three audience goals: spurring your audience into action. Pathos helps you bridge the gap between your audience agreeing to your choice and acting on it.
Heinrichs says there are two ways to use pathos effectively: Tell a vivid story, and appeal to strong emotions.
Aristotle contended that one of the best ways to change an audience’s mood is to tell a vivid story. Heinrichs says this works because emotions are built on experience or expectation: what your audience believes happened or will happen. Vivid storytelling creates both scenarios—the event feels real to the audience (experience), and they believe it could happen to them (expectation). In this way, your story builds genuine, persuasive emotions.
(Shortform note: The effectiveness of vivid storytelling is due to the way people’s brains communicate with each other. Researchers have found that when someone is listening to a vivid story, their brain lights up in the same places on an MRI as that of the storyteller herself. In other words, your brain is convinced it’s experiencing the story’s events and reacts to them as such.)
Heinrichs outlines three aspects of telling a vivid story: First, describe the sensations of the event in detail. (For example, the scent of your childhood home or the feeling of your stomach dropping.) This helps your audience “experience” the event alongside you, and they’ll react to it the same way you did. Second, convey emotion carefully. Keep your emotions under control while you speak, but make sure your audience can see that you’re struggling to hold back. Instead of forcing exaggerated emotions (which can feel theatrical or inauthentic) on them, you let them sense the emotion they should be feeling and exaggerate it themselves.
Lastly, keep your speech as simple as possible to let the audience fill in their own understanding of the experience. In other words, instead of telling them how to feel (“Doesn’t that make you angry?”), simply suggest emotions they can build on (“She kicked my cat. Boy, was I livid. I went over there and...”).
How to Build a Vivid Story
Once you know how you’ll convey your emotions during a story, think about how you’ll structure the story in the most compelling way possible. For this, look to Freytag’s Pyramid: a five-part pattern to dramatic storytelling. The pyramid was designed by novelist Gustav Freytag, based on Aristotle’s unified plot structure. The five parts cover:
Exposition: This stage establishes the setting, characters, and so on to give the listener a clear picture of the story’s beginning.
Rising action: This stage works through the story’s conflict—often explaining how things get worse for the main character. This continues up to the climax.
Climax (the peak of the pyramid): The conflict comes to a head and the main character reaches a significant turning point.
Falling action: The main character reflects on the climax and its aftermath—exploring their feelings about the conflict and climax and occasionally finding new conflicts.
Resolution: The resolution simply closes out the story and ties up the loose ends.
This framework carries the reader through the emotions of a story at the right moments—this timing, combined with the right emotions, evokes a strong response.
Besides telling a vivid story to generate emotions, Heinrichs says there are other ways to create emotions that get your audience on your side and ready to act on your ideas. One of the most effective is appealing to tribalism, or group identity.
Heinrichs notes that the strongest form of tribalism is patriotism, or loyalty to a country, school, town, or other entity. He explains that this feeling is largely due to your body’s oxytocin (the bonding hormone) levels. Oxytocin naturally spikes slightly when you’re in a group, helping you feel closer to other members. However, when your group is threatened in any way, your oxytocin levels go through the roof, triggering strong emotions such as defensiveness, jealousy, and competition—all of which can lead to impulsive actions and decisions.
(Shortform note: Heinrichs argues that highlighting your audience’s common belief or goal belongs in the realm of logos and isn’t part of the pathos agenda to get your audience to act. However, Seth Godin disagrees in Tribes: He argues that having a collective belief is what gives tribes a sense of intrinsic motivation. Without this motivation, tribes don’t feel driven to act or gather beyond the initial moment of excitement that Heinrichs describes—and therefore don’t really qualify as a “tribe” at all.)
Heinrichs notes an easy two-step process to manipulate an audience’s oxytocin levels to harness the power of tribalism:
(Shortform note: One thing that Heinrichs doesn’t mention is that certain people are more susceptible to the tribalism appeal than others. Researchers say that people with low self-esteem are most easily persuaded by tribalism because they see their group membership as a central facet of their identity. They perceive threats to their group as threats to themselves, and therefore react more strongly than someone with high self-esteem and a sense of identity outside the group.)
When you understand pathos, it’s easier to see when someone is trying to emotionally manipulate you or bully you until they get an emotional rise out of you. Heinrichs recommends two ways to gain the upper hand in these situations:
If your argument has an audience, they can likely see that the person trying to get a rise out of you isn’t a good person, and they’ll feel sympathy toward you. Heinrichs urges you to compound their sympathy by demonstrating that you’re the bigger person: Stay calm and try joking about the situation, revealing the contrast between your strong character and the bully’s weak, foolish character. (Shortform note: A well-known example of this is Kurt Cobain smilingly asking a heckler, “Why are you here?”)
Usually, a bully will stop when he sees that you have the audience’s support. If he doesn’t stop, continue using the audience's support against him. (Shortform note: Cobain likely could have gotten the audience to boo the heckler out of the room if he hadn’t quieted down.)
You may have a bully who “argues” by being louder and more aggressive than you are. Heinrichs suggests that you calmly respond with aggressive interest—that is, ask many questions and push for details. This won’t convince your bully that he’s wrong, but he’ll likely talk himself down: Research shows that people often moderate their opinions when they must explain themselves—unchallenged opinions are usually the most extreme.
Heinrichs explains that aggressive interest relies on pushing your bully to define the terms they’re using. This forces them to consider how their opinions rest on assumptions and stereotypes and thereby takes some of the power out of their argument.
For example, someone might say, “All politicians are corrupt.” Not every politician in the world is corrupt—he’s stating a stereotype as truth. Push him to define his terms: Ask if he really means “all” politicians, or ask him to explain what he considers “corruption.”
Beyond asking for clear definitions, Heinrichs stresses the importance of questioning your bully’s beliefs respectfully, so they understand that you genuinely want to gain understanding. If they feel that you’re mocking or fighting them, they may become defensive or angry.
Consider Your Argument From the Bully’s Perspective
A limiting aspect of Heinrichs’s methods for dealing with bullies is his assumption that you’re in the right and superior to your bully. This sentiment is implied in the outcome of his methods—either your audience agrees that you’re the better person or your bully discovers his argument’s shortcomings and stops talking. Heinrichs doesn’t suggest that you consider whether you’re the foolish or incorrect person in the argument.
When you encounter a bully, psychologists say, taking a moment to consider why you think they’re a bully may lead to a more productive approach than Heinrichs’s suggested methods. They suggest asking yourself three questions to determine why your bully isn’t receptive to your argument.
Are they unable to meaningfully listen to your argument?
Is it that they don’t want to listen to your argument?
Do they feel unsure if they should listen to your argument?
When you consider your bully’s stance from this more nuanced perspective, you may find that your approach is the problem, not the bully’s receptiveness.
If your bully seems unable to be receptive, your argument may lack clarity. Make sure that you’re explaining your argument in a way the other person can understand.
If your bully seems like they don’t want to listen, you may be inadvertently angering or provoking them—this usually prompts defensiveness, which psychologists pinpoint as one of the worst emotions for getting someone to change.
If they feel unsure if they should listen, there may be something wrong with your argument. Perhaps it seems self-serving or otherwise disadvantageous to the other person, or you have your facts wrong.
Heinrichs acknowledges that critical thinking and meaningful argument may seem hard to come by nowadays. He notes that a glaring issue driving this sentiment is our current political landscape. (Shortform note: A recent Gallup poll shows that Biden’s approval rating has the largest gap between parties of any president in recent history.) He says politics are becoming increasingly polarized due to two factors:
1) No one has a clear handle on what “truth” looks like anymore. Most people can’t agree on the value of information we receive from the government, media, and scientists. Heinrichs says this is largely because modern politicians build their campaigns around feelings, tribalism, and an appeal to morals, rather than facts and truth. For example, politicians discuss issues like abortion and climate change in terms of “wrong” and “right” rather than deliberating about an agreeable path forward.
(Shortform note: In Don’t Think of an Elephant! cognitive linguist George Lakoff explains that this framing is deliberate. Often, conservative politicians frame arguments in terms of wrong and right to appeal to their supporters’ cognitive biases, because they know that these biases whip people up into a defensive frenzy that helps obscure the truth of their statements.)
2) Deliberative argument isn’t considered effective against tactics like tribalism, which has become particularly dangerous to meaningful debate due to an evolving understanding of “virtue.” Heinrichs explains that, whereas virtue used to refer to middle-ground, future-focused decision making, we now consider someone “virtuous” if they choose a camp (or tribe) and defend their position no matter what. In modern rhetoric, compromise and consensus are not goals, but weaknesses.
(Shortform note: In How Democracies Die, Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt attribute the fierce tribalism in modern politics to former House Speaker Newt Gingrich, who believed in defeating his rivals—not working with them. In short, he viewed politics as warfare and formed the political-action committee GOPAC to train rising Republicans to follow similar no-compromise strategies. Levitsky and Ziblatt argue that by 1994, Gingrich had achieved his goal: a Republican Party entirely committed to their agreed-upon values and opposed to compromise.)
However, on the positive side, Heinrichs contends that as schools increasingly reintroduce rhetoric into their curricula, more people will have the skills to debate meaningfully, spot weak arguments, and make decisions that benefit a wider range of people. He believes increasing rhetorical education could transform politics: Instead of depending on tribalism to succeed, candidates would have to demonstrate intelligence, disinterest, relevant experience, and a focus on the future.
(Shortform note: Heinrichs’s prediction may seem surprising—youth voter turnout is often low. However, this pattern isn’t due to apathy or disliking candidates, as many assume. Studies show that it’s mainly due to logistics—elections are largely inaccessible to youth due to timing, distance, or (in the case of mail-in ballots at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic) unclear instructions. As young people gain independence and experience, they may become better equipped, more consistent voters.)
Having clear goals in an argument clarifies your thinking and keeps you focused on achieving a productive outcome rather than winning points.
Describe an argument that you’ll need to have in the near future.
What is your personal goal for this argument? (Do you want them to listen to you? Do you want them to change their mind about an issue? Do you want to motivate them to act?)
Which appeal (ethos, pathos, or logos) do you think will be most effective for this argument? Why?
What tactics could you use to make a persuasive appeal? (For example, you might establish a strong ethos by demonstrating your practical wisdom.)
Ensuring that you’re using the right tense in an argument can help the argument move in a productive direction rather than devolving into a fight.
Describe a recent argument you had with someone, such as a partner, family member, or colleague.
Describe how either party used the past tense to create blame in the argument. (For example, “You didn’t wash the dishes, so I had to do it.” )
Describe how either party used the present tense to attack values in the argument. (For example, “You’re always nagging me about the dishes, but you never walk the dog when it’s your turn.”)
How could this argument have been more productive if either party had concentrated on using the future tense to create choices? (For example, “Going forward, will you please put your dishes directly into the dishwasher? That way, I won’t have to clean them up.”)