Created for you by Emily Doucet of Framing Devices.

I’ve mapped hundreds of arguments — sometimes a short jump from a to b, other times echoing a maze. In most cases, there is a path, a line, from a to b but they differ in the route they use; the number of stops, turns, and twists the reader must take to get there.

As I work, I move down the page, noting instances of the explicit “I argue” statements along with other less flashy claims — statements that might not announce their status as arguments, but nonetheless make claims about the material presented.

There are often a lot of “arguments” to untangle. Complicating this is the fact that many authors (myself included!) regularly make arguments or claims in the text that are not explicitly about the evidence or material presented in the manuscript. These may be something you know or believe to be true of the topic but not something that is explicitly demonstrated in the text with the evidence at hand — a polemical claim or a claim about the significance of your argument.

When I’ve found all the plot points — all the possible claims — I lay them out all together and begin organizing them.

Are these statements…

A claim? A main argument or answer to a research question.

A reason for a claim? The logic or principle supporting the central argument.

Analysis of a specific piece of evidence? A descriptive statement about data, sources, or examples.

A warrant or bridge that helps connect your reasoning to your claim? An explanation of why readers should take this given evidence as proof of the above claim.

A statement as to the significance of this claim for your field or discipline? The core intervention or contribution of this claim to scholarly discourse.

Or, alternatively, an argument that simply isn’t borne out in the manuscript?

Awareness about the components of an argument and their function helps you, the writer, and us, your readers, move from A to B with intention. This doesn’t always mean a straight line, but one that twists and turns with purpose.

When an argument doesn’t work (or gasp… when there isn’t an argument) it is often because the author hasn’t intentionally decided what the component parts of the text are doing; not just what they are saying but their function in the resulting text. In this formulation, sentences don’t just make statements, they perform a task. Getting clear on what that task is — the purpose of the line — empowers you to craft a purposeful argument.

After all, writing is a process of decision-making.

First drafts might appear labyrinthine (and might not have a walkable path at first glance) but with careful mapping and rearranging, the argument emerges into view.