Most academic writing depends on claims, warrants, and evidence, so the more you know about how they function together, the better you'll be at not only writing persuasive papers, but picking apart other-people's arguments.
I had a teacher once give me an interesting piece of advice: Never start a paragraph with a fact. Always start with a claim. Since she was in charge of my grade, I obeyed. I was also willing to try it because she promised it would make my writing more compelling. It proved a bit problematic with introductions and conclusions, but I found that when writing "body" paragraphs, starting with a claim was no more difficult than starting with a fact. She might have explained this, but it didn't sink in until later, but what she was asking me to do was to start each paragraph with a topic sentence. I applied her rule for most of my college career, but by the time I graduated, I realized that while it was a convenient little trick, it wasn't necessarily the wisest choice in every writing situation. I found, for example, that I prefer to write short paragraphs. Rather than containing my ideas into stand-alone paragraphs with a topic sentence and all the necessary evidence and details, I tend to cluster my ideas into groups of small paragraphs. Starting each of these little paragraphs with a claim doesn't work quite the same as when you're writing a "five-paragraph theme" essay.
A claim is simply a debatable statement based on the interpretation of evidence, but not a mere statement of fact.
Example of a Statement of Fact:
According to the 2011 NOAA Index, August is the hottest month of the year in southern Utah.
This isn't a particularly interesting piece of information. I can see why my old professor would roll her eyes if I started a paragraph with it. But it is a great piece of evidence. The NOAA Index is indisputable, so if I needed some proof that August is hot, there you go.
Example of a Claim:
Despite it being the hottest month of the year, August is actually a great time to begin training for a marathon.
If you write something, and you can anticipate someone asking what you are basing that on, then chances are you've just written a claim. Bravo. I don't run marathons, but I have many friends who do. If I said that August is the best time to begin training, no doubt some would guffaw and tell me I'm wrong, while others would say, "Now hold on—he might be onto something." That's the beauty of a claim. It gets the reader thinking. It causes them to think of whether they agree or disagree, and it leaves them wanting to know on what you are basing your claim.
The two key types of claims you will make in writing are thesis statements and topic sentences. A thesis statement is the central claim you make in your paper. It's your main argument. Everything in the paper should be in service of supporting your thesis statement. It is usually found in the first paragraph (or in the introductory material, which might be the first few paragraphs) and is often repeated in the conclusion (but not always; that's a stylistic choice).
A topic sentence is similar to a thesis statement, but it is the main claim of a specific paragraph or section. As I've mentioned, it is usually found in the first sentence or two of a paragraph, but not always.
If you find it useful, here are a few more example of claims and mere statements of fact:
It's important to note that some of these claims are easier to prove than others. But just because a claim can't be proven doesn't mean it isn't valid or worth making. Even though you can't prove that Terminator 2 is the best film in the franchise (which it is), you can certainly substantiate that claim by identifying what makes a film entertaining and then showing how Terminator 2 meets and exceeds those criteria compared to the other films.
Anything that proves, substantiates, or otherwise backs up your claim is evidence. Evidence can include but is not limited to:
Facts
Statistics
Stories
Personal Examples
Testimony
Quotes by experts, users, witnesses, etc.
Logic and syllogism (if A is B, and B is C, then A is C)
Primary and secondary sources
And much, much more!
While making a claim might come rather naturally to you (we are, after all, an opinionated and contradictory species), providing sufficient evidence to prove or substantiate your claim can be tricky. That’s why you'll be asked to dedicate so much of your time this semester finding, evaluating, and incorporating sources into your writing, as well as writing compelling narratives, accurate descriptions, and sound analyses. All of these things will combine to provide you the firepower (aka evidence) you need to back up your claims, prove your point, win your arguments, and persuade your readers.
Though you may not realize it, you probably have asked people quite often what evidence they're using to support their claim. When someone makes some sort of claim that I don't agree with, my first question is usually, "What are you basing that on?" If you find yourself saying that, or something similar ("Where did you get that idea?" Or, "What makes you say that?"), then what you're really saying is, "Please provide me with the necessary evidence to back up your claim."
Not all evidence is created equal. What your buddies and your professor accept as solid evidence might not be the same. Something that might seem perfectly reasonable to you might seem utterly absurd to me. Why is that?
Shouldn't a piece of evidence support the claim equally no matter who is reading your paper? You would think so, but no. To understand why, it's important to know what a warrant is and how they work differently with different readers.
A warrant, simply put, is the assumption that your reader needs to agree with in order to find your evidence strong enough to support your claim. Your warrant may be directly stated, or it might just be implied.
Though you may have never used the word warrant in this way, you actually use warrants all the time, and you even recognize when a warrant just isn't working.
Suppose, for example, your roommate tells you to try this magic new pill to help you lose weight fast. After you eye it suspiciously, you ask if it's safe. "Of course it's safe," she says. "It's been FDA approved!"
Within this scenario, you have a claim, a warrant, and a piece of evidence. Can you tell which is which?
The claim: This pill is safe.
The evidence: It has been approved by the FDA.
The warrant: The FDA is trustworthy and would never approve an unsafe medication.
In this example, the warrant is left unstated. It is the underlying assumption that you must believe in order for the evidence to back up the claim. But if you're like me and you really don't place that much trust in the FDA, then you probably aren't going to be convinced to take that pill. The claim is fine, the evidence is solid, but the warrant (the assumption that links the evidence with the claim) loses us.
You then say to your roommate, "FDA approval means nothing to me. Those guys are notorious for approving unsafe drugs. I'm not taking this." What you're actually saying is, "I don't agree with your implied warrant, therefore your evidence doesn't support your claim."
But you would never say that, just as your roommate would never say, "Let me, then, provide you with another piece of evidence with a warrant that appeals to you." Instead, she says, "Hear me out. I've been taking it for three months and I feel great, and both my sisters have used it for over a year and they swear by it."
You have to admit your roommate looks pretty good, and she certainly seems healthy. And if other people have seen such success with no side effects, then maybe it really is safe. The warrant, or the underlying assumption here, is that since three people have taken it for several months with no ill effects, then you too will experience similar results. You buy into that assumption, therefore the evidence (it worked for your roommate and two others) is sufficient to support the claim (the pill is safe).
We evaluate claims, warrants, and evidence all the time in casual conversations--even when we don't realize it. We are constantly making claims and searching for evidence that the people with whom we are speaking will find compelling—and what makes it compelling often lies at the level of the warrant--the assumption--that they must believe in order for them to value the evidence enough to buy into your claim.
Another way I like to think of the connection between claims, warrants, and evidence is in terms of logic bridges. When someone makes a claim and provides evidence, I often think, "How did you get from there to here?" How did you get from seeing that the magic pill was FDA approved to claiming that it is perfectly safe and everyone should take it? A lot has to happen at the warrant level, the assumption level, to get from there to here. I call this a logic bridge. This is useful not only in helping you identify what a warrant is (even if it's not directly stated), but also in figuring out in general how and when an argument breaks down.
Here, for your viewing pleasure, are a few more examples of claims, warrants, and evidence.