The Dynamics of Debate: A Guide to Handling Facts and Strategic Responses

When we select our arguments, we must also choose the facts that we will use to support them. Most of the time, this work will be more about documentation than argumentation. The main challenge will be to find information strong enough to support our arguments and reliable enough not to be questioned. For this, we will often need to consider all sources: journalistic, scientific, statistical, historical, legal, artistic...

The difficulties begin, however, when we consider argumentation from a dynamic perspective. Very often, as we have seen, other speakers are in front of us, defending positions opposite to ours. Facts then become an object of struggle and confrontation. Most of the time, in this case, divergent reasoning will actually be supported by different facts. The question will not only be which facts are true—they may all be true at the same time, but which ones seem most relevant to us.

Case Study: During a family dinner, your uncle declares that the USA have an integration problem, and that we would be better off if all immigrants were sent back home. The proof, he adds, is that "Black and Latin people" are overrepresented in prison. You reply that USA actually have a social problem, and that the priority would be to provide more means to fight against poverty and school failure. The proof, you say: it’s mostly the "poor and uneducated" who are overrepresented in prison.

Decoding: This conversation is a textbook case. It’s perfectly possible that the facts reported by your interlocutor and by yourself are both well-founded. Disadvantaged neighborhoods are mainly inhabited by people from immigration, many cities are facing this type of situation. The debate, therefore, isn’t so much about the accuracy of the facts, but about the importance we choose to give them. Do we think that individuals commit crimes because they are poorly integrated? Or, on the contrary, because they have no prospect of escaping poverty? This is the source of your disagreement. What it reveals is probably a divergence of values and worldview. Alas, there is little chance that we will resolve it over a cheese platter.

Often, the challenge is to find facts that will allow us to support your interpretation of reality. It may happen that this strategy isn’t enough. What will happen if our opponents highlight a terrible fact for you? A fact that accuses you, overwhelms you, and disqualifies you? We will have to seize it and respond as best we can. Precisely, rhetoric has the particularity that facts are never fixed. They’re a malleable, flexible material. We will be able to work with them, bend them, until they serve our conviction process. Or, at least, stop being an obstacle. We have three different strategies for this: denial, interpretation, and relativization.

1. Denial

The first strategy, when we are faced with an embarrassing fact, is also the simplest: deny it. As long as we can. Looking our interlocutor in the eye with strength and confidence and simply responding "That's not true."

Case Study: You’re a secretary of the treasury waking up one morning with an unpleasant surprise. A major daily newspaper accuses you of having a well-stocked bank account in a tax haven. The accusations are serious, but the evidence is poorly provided. In the afternoon, at the Congress, the opposition deputies do not fail to question you on this matter. You stand up and respond in a solemn voice: "Listen to me carefully. I’m looking you straight in the eye. I have never—never, do you hear me—possessed an account abroad. For me, paying my taxes is not only a duty. It is also a pride." In the hall, silence reigns. It seems that your speech was enough to put out the fire.

Decoding: Provided the evidence against you is not too overwhelming, this strategy can prove to be remarkably effective. By denying with strength and indignation, you instill hesitation in the minds of your listeners. And what if you were right? And if you were indeed victim of a heinous slander? This essentially amounts to claiming the benefit of the doubt in our favor.

However, be careful. If the evidence against us is too overwhelming, denial may prove counterproductive. We will give the impression of struggling, lose all credibility, and appear guiltier than ever. We always have the possibility, in this case, to use a variant of this strategy: partial denial. It will then be necessary to look for, among the facts blamed on us or the documents presented against us, the weak link. The element sufficiently false or fragile for us to denounce. In short, we respond: "This is not really true."

Case Study (continued): The troubles continue. The newspaper publishes a second article, very long, in which it renews its accusations and supports them this time with overwhelming documents. Your denial strategy becomes obsolete. But one element catches your attention. In the article, a specific sum of money is mentioned, which you allegedly received and transferred abroad seven months earlier. This information is incorrect. You decide to maintain your line of defense, relying on this weak link. You contest this information, declare that you’re ready to play the transparency game, even go so far as to transmit all the concerned bank statements to the newspaper. All accusations will soon collapse like a house of cards.

Decoding: This strategy is both finer and less effective than the previous one. If we maneuver well and argue forcefully, it can be enough to disqualify our opponents. But in many cases, they will simply concede an error in their file. They will amputate a weak argument. Like a plant that will flourish again after cutting a dead branch, their accusations will regain all their strength. Partial denial may not be enough to disqualify us. However, it can allow us to gain valuable time. We will need it to prepare the next stage of our defense.

2. Interpretation

Second possible strategy, which we can deploy independently or consequently of the previous one: interpretation. Here, we recognize the accuracy of the fact that is reproached to us. To do this, we will often work on the intention behind the fact: what is reproached to us is exact, but what we were trying to do was misunderstood. Essentially, this strategy consists of responding: "That's not really it."

Case Study (continued): Your situation has considerably worsened. Confronted with successive revelations from the newspaper, your line of defense became untenable. You ended up confessing that the facts are accurate, you do indeed have several hundred thousand dollars deposited in a foreign account. That evening, you accept an interview on a major television news program. Facing the journalist, your statements have the effect of a bomb: "I want to tell the whole truth. Indeed, I do hold this bank account. But did you ever wonder why I opened it? And where these funds came from? Well, let me tell you. Twenty years ago, my political mentor—now deceased, rest his soul—entrusted me with carrying out a discreet fundraising campaign. He wanted to finance his entry into the campaign, in case he decided to run for office. He never did. Instead, I took care of the money. That's what this money corresponds to. These are political funds, assembled two decades ago, which I have not touched since. I have always paid my taxes in the USA with honesty and pride."

Decoding: Interpretation is the principal defense strategy, as long as the facts reproached to us cannot be denied. It has the advantage of often surprising: when our accusers thought they had us cornered, we suddenly turn the situation around. Furthermore, by arguing on the intention behind the facts rather than the facts themselves, we leave little room for contradiction. It is difficult, indeed, to refute an intention. How to prove that someone did not want to do what he claims to have wanted to do? Failing to do so, we should be able to claim, here too, the benefit of the doubt and get out of a bad situation.

It happens, however, that we are confronted with overwhelming facts whose intention leaves little room for doubt. We then have no choice but to move on to the third defense strategy.

3. Relativization

The last defense strategy is also the most risky: relativization. It involves acknowledging that we are guilty of the accusations against us. But we will immediately mention other even heavier facts. By contrast, our own wrongs will appear trivial, insignificant, excusable. Our line of defense then sums up to: "It's not really serious."

Case Study (continued): You thought you were done with troubles. You were wrong. Following your confessions, the financial prosecutor's office opened an investigation. The investigators found another foreign account, which you thought you had hidden much better. As you’ve continued to fund it until very recently it’s impossible to still alleged financing of a hypothetical campaign by your former mentor... It is now before a court that you will have to defend yourself. You’ve abandoned all hope of being innocent. Your only goal is to avoid a firm prison sentence. With a trembling voice, you address the judges: "I committed a fault, I admit it. I had a shadowy part. It has been discovered. But who here has never committed an error? Who has never known, at least once, this spiral of lies that one bitterly regrets, without being able to extract oneself? So yes! I cheated. I paid less tax than I should have. But tax fraud, let's talk about it! Every year, billionaires transfer tens of millions of euros abroad. And when they get caught, what happens to them? A slap on the wrist, that's all! My own fault is not even a drop in the ocean. And I should go to prison? So yes, make me pay. I deserve it. All I ask of you is not to be treated unfairly."

Decoding: Here, we attempt a double relativization. The first, by recalling that we are fallible, certainly, but just like all human beings. The second, by confessing that we have failed, undeniably, but less than others! We are no longer trying to instill doubt in our audience. We merely seek their indulgence.

This is our last refuge. If it fails, and we cannot instill doubt or obtain indulgence, we will then have to resolve to attempt everything: confessing, piteously, by imploring the pardon and clemency of our listeners. We then leave the realm of rhetoric: we no longer seek to convince, and accept to face the sentence that will be imposed on us.

As listeners or audience members, when we spot these lines of defense in a speaker, we must keep in mind that they are very classic. In the public sphere, they fall under what is called "crisis communication." This does not necessarily mean that they are false. But it does not mean either that they are true. We then have no choice but to remain prudent, cross-reference sources, and try to form our own judgment, as enlightened as possible.

Conclusion

In terms of argumentation, there is no magic formula, no miracle recipe, no technique so just and so perfect that it would allow us to systematically achieve our goal: to bring conviction. And yet, despite the infinity of situations and the unpredictability of individuals, we will have to make a choice. Selecting arguments. Developing a line. How, then, will we proceed? Without certainty. But with method.

Ultimately, this boils down to a series of questions. What are the set of arguments at our disposal? Among them, which seem rigorous, in light of the information we know? Which seem effective, regarding the audience to whom we are addressing? Which seem important to us, reflecting our own convictions? And above all, how will we reconcile these three requirements? Furthermore, what objections should we expect? How will we respond? Should we seek to anticipate them, or wait for them to be expressed? Finally, which facts will we choose to support our arguments? By what means will we defend ourselves against accusations?