I spend a lot of time on this blog, when I manage to blog, debunking bad public arguments. I tend to be particularly harsh on various members of the New York Times op-ed page. So, when I see something good there--very good in this case--I ought to praise it. All praise to Steven Simon. He has written a lovely example of good public argument.
In the first sentence, Simon identifies the issue: "The Justice Department's decision to try Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, the self-proclaimed mastermind of the 9/11 attacks, in a federal court in New York City has elicited several criticisms." That's a clear and admirably even-handed statement. It also foreshadows the main rhetorical strategy: refutation. Simon will document the opposing positions and then explain why they are wrong. The second sentence previews that effort and differentiates between "pointless" and legitimate arguments. That, too, is useful. One should be able to separate apparent and real concerns and it also justifies his argumentative choices; he dispatches the pointless ones quickly and devotes better than half the essay to the claim that the trial "will give a terrorist a platform."
The first section of the essay quickly dispatches the "straw men." In each case, Simon identifies the source of the argument, summarizes its substance, and explains why it is wrong. Each move is important.
By identifying the source, Simon directly engages his opponents and gives readers the chance to look up those opposing claims. That contrasts sharply with the usual "some people say" formulation that, more often than not, distorts the other side and prevents any effort to discover whether an existing person said what is claimed. Simon does his opponents the courtesy of open debate.
By summarizing and quoting opposing claims, Simon demonstrates his fairness and lifts his credibility. He uses their words when summarizing their claims. Equally important, by being so specific, he invites his readers to check his facts. He implicitly claims that he can be trusted.
By explaining why those claims are wrong, Simon both engages the opposition, as we expect in a public debate, and prepares readers for further disputes. When they hear these claims again, they can resist them. To use a metaphor, he inoculates them against more opposition discourse. Readers now know how to answer these fallacious claims.
So, for instance, he notes that John Yoo, "a former Bush Administration lawyer," (quite a fair summation), argues that the trial would be an "intelligence bonanza" for the enemy. Unlikely, Simon contends: "Our prosecutors are certain that there is enough unclassified evidence to make their case. Moreover, the most prized intelligence is recent, specific, and actionable. Al Qaeda today is most concerned with discovering when and where the next drone missile attack will take place in Pakistan, information not likely to be disclosed during a trial about a conspiracy hatched more than a decade ago."
Simon's first claim, the one about prosecutors, requires readers to take him on faith, but the second is supported by some pretty convincing reasoning. It seems logical that the proximate threat--death--would interest Al Qaeda more than the distant one--they already know what they planned a decade ago.
The essay continues in that fashion. The disposal of the pointless claims is generally quite rational, but the essay grows appropriately more emotional as he moves to the argument concerning the trial's propaganda value. Here, Simon engages in a reversal; he contends that methodical public exposure of this kind of evil will be most helpful to the American cause. He supports that claim with historical examples, with contemporary examples of radical clerics losing faith in Al Qaeda, and with contrasts to other alternatives. The latter, he contends, do not embody American values of transparency and justice as clearly as does a trial.
Good to see this essay--right on the facts, right on the argument. This would be a great example with which to open a public speaking, argumentation, or basic criticism class.