definitional arguments

Often, when we think of definition, Webster’s dictionary comes to mind. But dictionary definitions can't attend to the exigence of a particular time and place--terms, concepts, and meanings emerge to frame issues, according to the rhetorical situation. Definitions, in use, don’t usually function like perfect classical mathematical equations. Rather, in everyday situations, definitions have more to do with probabilities; therefore, writers tend to amplify certain aspects of definitions in circulation and turn down the volume on other uses.

Long ago, Cicero wrote that “when you have taken all the qualities of the thing you wish to define has in common with other things, you should pursue the analysis until you produce its own distinctive quality which can be transferred to no other thing” (Topics v, 28, cited in Crowley and Hawhee, 216). To illustrate this process, Cicero provided an example close to our course content. To define “inheritance,” he placed it in a class, “property.” Next, he added a vector of difference, stating that inheritance is a form of property “which comes to someone at the death of another” (vi, 29). Here, Cicero starts down a particular process of definition called “species/genus” definition: first he places the thing to be defined in a category, then he begins to list differences that distinguish the species from other members of the proposed genus. We could also call this process “defining as…,” and in this process, argumentation begins as soon as a writer sets limits on her definition by selecting a particular class or category, even before the procedure of selecting differences and distinctions. One group of writers may place intellectual property in a class with tangible property, and in this case, much of what we call fair use would in this case be defined as free riding. Of course, another series of arguments might place “free riding” in a different category, and argue that free-riding is part of creative, innovative work in markets. When competing definitions arise out of the same terrain, writers must select differences and points of distinction, but they may choose do so as a process of showing how one thing (say, free-riding) is NOT another thing (say, theft), as well. Some folks call this method “negative definition.” Furthermore, definition arguments are often more like “re-definition” arguments—re-definition processes radically displace the “it” in question into seemingly ill-suited categories, as a way of amplifying or tuning in on a specific aspect of the “it” to be defined, or leveraging a boundary-example as a means to shine a new light on an issue. For example, some readers may be unprepared to think aboutthe Burning Man Festival in terms of gift economics, but traversing the ground between the species (the Burning Man festival) and the genus (gift economics) provides ample opportunity to turn a particular readership towards the notion.

Writing to establish such connections, our recipes work with definitional ingredients including but not limited to

• enumeration (listing the most important parts that make up a whole—not all the parts, because defining something well actually requires that we leave certain contested aspects out of the “equation,” so that we can focus our readers’ attention)

• etymological definition (studying the history of a concept and its uses, and then selecting and amplifying the use that will make your case persuasive),

• and definition by way of example. Generally speaking, definition requires us to determine when greater or less ambiguity will be more persuasive in a particular case. The simple art of telling stories usually brings about opportunities for experimenting with these (and other) techniques, so try and find "gutters" and transitions in your narrative where you might weave in techniques of enumeration, etymology, or example. Narrative is a flexible genre, and definitions easily nestle into stories with compelling plots.

But you can always go back to the simple formula "X is..." or "X is not..."