Link to the google document for this chapter:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QwVV6ctQZ7Tz85-uGkTy1DEvbj7CtO2u_gGDM3nWrwQ/edit
Analyze and evaluate information using both convergent and divergent thinking strategies to foster creativity and curiosity in problem-solving and decision-making processes.
Develop skills in interpretation and inference, distinguishing between different kinds of inference, to enhance reasoning and reflective thinking in complex situations.
Apply critical thinking forms to judge the validity of arguments and make informed decisions, utilizing a comprehensive understanding of analysis, evaluation, and reflection techniques.
Critical thinking, a cornerstone of academic and everyday success, intertwines analysis, evaluation, creativity, and curiosity to navigate the complex landscape of ideas and information. At the heart of this intellectual endeavor lies the dual process of breaking down arguments through analysis and evaluation, while simultaneously engaging in both convergent and divergent thinking to explore solutions and foster innovation. Critical analysis merges these pathways, demanding a nuanced understanding of arguments and their components. This intellectual journey is fueled by curiosity, driving us to question and seek out new information, and creativity, enabling novel approaches to problem-solving. Through interpretation and inference, we decipher meanings and draw conclusions, grounded in evidence and careful reasoning. The articulation of our thought processes, or explanation, bridges knowledge gaps, while the examination of assumptions and the drawing of inferences solidify our reasoning. This reflective and investigative process, enhanced by research, culminates in judicious decision-making, embodying the essence of critical thinking. Embracing these facets within a community college English critical thinking class not only prepares students for academic challenges but also cultivates a mindset of inquiry, open-mindedness, and rational decision-making pivotal for personal growth and societal engagement.
Angela Spires, Brendan Shapiro, Geoffrey Kenmuir, Kimberly Kohl, and Linda Gannon
Critical analysis is a term that students may hear often, especially as they progress through university courses and move into the twenty-first century workforce. Teachers and future employers want to see critical analysis applied in a variety of ways. Every context will have different ways that are standard for critical analysis of situations, data, and problems. Broadly, critical thinking is a way of looking at a situation that goes beyond first impressions and cliches. This section will describe specific techniques for critical analysis that can be used across different situations, especially for discovering more about writing and topics relevant to writing studies.
William Thelin in Writing Without Formulas offers eight concrete ways to perform critical analysis: “interrogating the obvious,” “seeing patterns,” “finding what’s not there,” looking at “race, class, and gender,” “twisting the cliché,” “unearthing agendas,” and asking, “who profits?” (28—47). The following sections are originally derived from Thelin’s categories but are modified to better study writing in context, since many first-year writing classes at CSU following the “writing-about-writing” theme (as described by Downs and Wardle in “Teaching about writing, righting misconceptions”).
This chapter will work from an example scenario in which the writer aims to detail and understand the reading, writing, communication, and education that is taking place in one online asynchronous course. The writer’s originating research question is: What kinds of reading, writing, communication, and education takes place in this one asynchronous course? After the writer has written down their initial thoughts on the course and how communication works in the specific situation, they can use the following guidelines to write more and dig deeper into the context they are studying.
Before the writer can use critical analysis, they need to clearly identify and describe details in the context. Details can help the writer more clearly understand the situation they are studying. Details are also necessary for readers to follow along with the critical analysis that the writer is performing.
What did the instructor write?
What are the students expected to write?
Where, how, and why are they expected to write?
How does communication between students occur?
What about communication with the teacher?
How is the course organized?
What kinds of resources are used in the course?
Are students expected to read every word on the course page? What words are they required to read?
What kinds of external documents does the teacher expect students to use?
When the writer begins critical analysis with details of the basic situation, nothing is too mundane or obvious to skip over in the writing process. Specific details help the context come to life for both the writer and the readers. Writers should aim to draw a living picture of the situation. Then, from that living picture, the writer can work to analyze the situation in a more complete manner using the following suggestions.
After the writer has a drawn a clear picture for themselves and for the reader of what kinds of reading, writing, and communication are going on in the context they are describing, they can look for connections and links among these texts, resources, and people.
A cluster includes technologies, people, texts, or ideas that exist near one another in a situation.
Patterns include sequences of events that repeat.
o Clusters and patterns can help writers see the relationships between different elements and can help the writer see and understand a situation differently.
Coordination includes how humans use texts, technologies, and ideas in different tasks.
o Coordination can help the writer see how separate acts of reading, writing, and communication work together to complete larger tasks.
How does the student in the course group together texts to perform a task?
Has the instructor supplied readings that the students need to write about?
How does the student use assigned texts (possibly with other texts or technologies) in their writing process?
What about external texts that the student needs to gather? How do those texts work into their writing process?
Are certain texts often grouped together in the instruction or writing process?
What kinds of resources do students tie together to complete assignments?
How do technologies outside of the course (like using social media or messaging classmates) work in conjunction with other texts and resources when the student is completing course work?
In writing studies, researchers can look for how texts are used in coordination with one another to learn more about the writing process and to describe how exactly people write and get work done. The concept of textual coordination (Slattery, “Technical writing as textual coordination”; Pigg, “Coordinating constant invention”) helps researchers to better understand how writers use resources (from computer programs to emails to syllabi to dictionaries) to write.
For research writing especially, writers tend to have multiple tabs or windows open on their computers with articles, websites, and the word processor they are using. The tying together of these resources by the writer is textual coordination. According to Shaun Slattery in “Undistributing Work through Writing”, the study of textual coordination emerged from researchers looking into how distributed work takes place in environments that are often mediated by computers (313). Many twenty-first century knowledge-working careers use a model of distributed work and rely on “the ability to identify, rearrange, circulate, abstract, and broker information” (Johnson-Eilola qtd. on Slattery 312). While most first-year writers may not have much career experience in knowledge working, they do have experience tying together resources and technologies. For example: reading a homework assignment and taking notes in a separate document and then using those texts in an essay is an example of textual coordination.
This section is borrowed (using Creative Commons Licensing) from “Unit I: An Introduction to Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies” in the open-education resource textbook An Introduction to Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies. “Within intersectional frameworks, race, class, gender, sexuality, age, ability, and other aspects of identity are considered mutually constitutive; that is, people experience these multiple aspects of identity simultaneously and the meanings of different aspects of identity are shaped by one another. In other words, notions of gender and the way a person’s gender is interpreted by others are always impacted by notions of race and the way that person’s race is interpreted. For example, a person is never received as just a woman, but how that person is racialized impacts how the person is received as a woman. So, notions of blackness, brownness, and whiteness always influence gendered experience, and there is no experience of gender that is outside of an experience of race. In addition to race, gendered experience is also shaped by age, sexuality, class, and ability; likewise, the experience of race is impacted by gender, age, class, sexuality, and ability.” For more information on intersectionality, read more in their chapter and textbook.
By asking questions about race, class, gender, ability, sexuality, and the intersections between these categories, writers can perform more critical analysis.
What is the race, class, gender, sexuality, and ability of the authors of the readings we are assigned? How do these categories intersect in the lives of the authors?
Do the statistics of the authors assigned for students to read match with the demographics of experts in the field?
How are race, class, gender, ability, and sexuality distributed in the field overall?
If there are inequalities in the demographics of professionals in the field, are there initiatives that work towards inviting more diversity into the field?
What kinds of reading, writing, and communication are missing or different from similar contexts?
Could resources be added to enhance communication, representation, understanding, or ease of access? What would those resources be?
In this stage of analysis, the writer should take a few steps back from the details of the context they are studying so that they might be able to see what could be added to the environment they are studying. The writer could compare the context they are studying to other contexts to help see what might be missing.
What kinds of reading, writing, and communication are missing or different from similar contexts?
Could resources be added to enhance communication, representation, understanding, or ease of access? What would those resources be?
If the writer is performing critical analysis in a context where the previously discussed categories might not apply, “What is Critical Analysis?” by The University of Bradford offers a broad framework for critical analysis that can be applied beyond topics relevant to writing, reading, and communication. The University of Bradford describes critical analysis as part of the process that includes: “description,” “analysis,” and “evaluation” (2). For description, it suggests that writers focus on answering questions starting with “what”, “where”, “who”, and “when” (2). For the analysis stage, it suggests answering “how”, “why”, and “what if?” (2). Evaluation includes “so what?” and “what next?” Writers can use the categories outlined here to perform critical analysis that adds depth, texture, and details to thoughts and observations.
Downs, Douglas, and Elizabeth Wardle. “Teaching about writing, righting misconceptions:(Re)envisioning” first-year composition” as” Introduction to Writing Studies”.” College composition and communication (2007): 552-584.
Pigg, Stacey. “Coordinating constant invention: Social media’s role in distributed work.” Technical Communication Quarterly 23.2 (2014): 69-87.
Slattery, Shaun. “Technical writing as textual coordination: An argument for the value of writers’ skill with information technology.” Technical Communication 52.3 (2005): 353.
Slattery, Shaun. “Undistributing work through writing: How technical writers manage texts in complex information environments.” Technical Communication Quarterly 16.3 (2007): 311-325.
Thelin, William. Writing Without Formulas. Second edition. Cengage, 2009. “What is Critical Analysis?” Academic Skills Advice. The University of Bradford. Accessed 17 October 2019.
Attributions
“6.7 What Is Critical Analysis?” is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 / A derivative from the original work by Julie A. Townsend
This page titled 6.7: What is Critical Analysis is shared under a CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by Angela Spires, Brendan Shapiro, Geoffrey Kenmuir, Kimberly Kohl, and Linda Gannon via source content that was edited to the style and standards of the LibreTexts platform; a detailed edit history is available upon request.
Critical thinking requires skill at analyzing the reliability and validity of information, as well as the attitude or disposition to do so. The skill and attitude may be displayed with regard to a particular subject matter or topic, but in principle it can occur in any realm of knowledge (Halpern, 2003; Williams, Oliver, & Stockade, 2004). A critical thinker does not necessarily have a negative attitude in the everyday sense of constantly criticizing someone or something. Instead, he or she can be thought of as astute: the critical thinker asks key questions, evaluates the evidence for ideas, reasons for problems both logically and objectively, and expresses ideas and conclusions clearly and precisely. Last (but not least), the critical thinker can apply these habits of mind in more than one realm of life or knowledge.
With such a broad definition, it is not surprising that educators have suggested a variety of specific cognitive skills as contributing to critical thinking. In one study, for example, the researcher found how critical thinking can be reflected in regard to a published article was stimulated by annotation— writing questions and comments in the margins of the article (Liu, 2006). In this study, students were initially instructed in ways of annotating reading materials. Later, when the students completed additional readings for assignments, it was found that some students in fact used their annotation skills much more than others— some simply underlined passages, for example, with a highlighting pen. When essays written about the readings were later analyzed, the ones written by the annotators were found to be more well reasoned— more critically astute— than the essays written by the other students.
In another study, on the other hand, a researcher found that critical thinking can also involve oral discussion of personal issues or dilemmas (Hawkins, 2006). In this study, students were asked to verbally describe a recent, personal incident that disturbed them. Classmates then discussed the incident together in order to identify the precise reasons why the incident was disturbing, as well as the assumptions that the student made in describing the incident. The original student— the one who had first told the story— then used the results of the group discussion to frame a topic for a research essay. In one story of a troubling incident, a student told of a time when a store clerk has snubbed or rejected the student during a recent shopping errand. Through discussion, classmates decided that an assumption underlying the student's disturbance was her suspicion that she had been a victim of racial profiling based on her skin color. The student then used this idea as the basis for a research essay on the topic of "racial profiling in retail stores". The oral discussion thus stimulated critical thinking in the student and the classmates, but it also relied on their prior critical thinking skills at the same time.
Notice that in both of these research studies, as in others like them, what made the thinking "critical" was students' use of metacognition— strategies for thinking about thinking and for monitoring the success and quality of one's own thinking. This concept was discussed in Chapter 2 as a feature of constructivist views about learning. There we pointed out that when students acquire experience in building their own knowledge, they also become skilled both at knowing how they learn, and at knowing whether they have learned something well. These are two defining qualities of metacognition, but they are part of critical thinking as well. In fostering critical thinking, a teacher is really fostering a student's ability to construct or control his or her own thinking and to avoid being controlled by ideas unreflectively.
How best to teach critical thinking remains a matter of debate. One issue is whether to infuse critical skills into existing courses or to teach them through separate, free-standing units or courses. The first approach has the potential advantage of integrating critical thinking into students' entire educations. But it risks diluting students' understanding and use of critical thinking simply because critical thinking takes on a different form in each learning context. Its details and appearance vary among courses and teachers. The free-standing approach has the opposite qualities: it stands a better chance of being understood clearly and coherently, but at the cost of obscuring how it is related to other courses, tasks, and activities. This dilemma is the issue— again— of transfer, discussed in Chapter 2. Unfortunately, research to compare the different strategies for teaching critical thinking does not settle the matter. The research suggests simply that either infusion or free-standing approaches can work as long as it is implemented thoroughly and teachers are committed to the value of critical thinking (Halpern, 2003).
A related issue about teaching critical thinking is about deciding who needs to learn critical thinking skills the most. Should it be all students, or only some of them? Teaching all students seems the more democratic alternative and thus appropriate for educators. Surveys have found, however, that teachers sometimes favor teaching of critical thinking only to high-advantage students— the ones who already achieve well, who come from relatively high- income families, or (for high school students) who take courses intended for university entrance (Warburton & Torff, 2005). Presumably the rationale for this bias is that high- advantage students can benefit and/or understand and use critical thinking better than other students. Yet, there is little research evidence to support this idea, even if it were not ethically questionable. The study by Hawkins (2006) described above, for example, is that critical thinking was fostered even with students considered low-advantage.
Creativity is the ability to make or do something new that is also useful or valued by others (Gardner, 1993). The "something" can be an object (like an essay or painting), a skill (like playing an instrument), or an action (like using a familiar tool in a new way). To be creative, the object, skill, or action cannot simply be bizarre or strange; it cannot be new without also being useful or valued, and not simply be the result of accident. If a person types letters at random that form a poem by chance, the result may be beautiful, but it would not be creative by the definition above. Viewed this way, creativity includes a wide range of human experience that many people, if not everyone, have had at some time or other (Kaufman & Baer, 2006). The experience is not restricted to a few geniuses, nor exclusive to specific fields or activities like art or the composing of music.
Especially important for teachers are two facts. The first is that an important form of creativity is creative thinking, the generation of ideas that are new as well as useful, productive, and appropriate. The second is that creative thinking can be stimulated by teachers' efforts. Teachers can, for example, encourage students' divergent thinking— ideas that are open-ended and that lead in many directions (Torrance, 1992; Kim, 2006). Divergent thinking is stimulated by open-ended questions— questions with many possible answers, such as the following:
How many uses can you think of for a cup?
Draw a picture that somehow incorporates all of these words: cat, fire engine, and banana.
What is the most unusual use you can think of for a shoe?
Note that answering these questions creatively depends partly on having already acquired knowledge about the objects to which the questions refer. In this sense divergent thinking depends partly on its converse, convergent thinking, which is focused, logical reasoning about ideas and experiences that lead to specific answers. Up to a point, then, developing students' convergent thinking— as schoolwork often does by emphasizing mastery of content— facilitates students' divergent thinking indirectly, and hence also their creativity (Sternberg, 2003; Runco, 2004; Cropley, 2006). But carried to extremes, excessive emphasis on convergent thinking may discourage creativity.
Whether in school or out, creativity seems to flourish best when the creative activity is its own intrinsic reward, and a person is relatively unconcerned with what others think of the results. Whatever the activity— composing a song, writing an essay, organizing a party, or whatever— it is more likely to be creative if the creator focuses on and enjoys the activity in itself, and thinks relatively little about how others may evaluate the activity (Brophy, 2004). Unfortunately, encouraging students to ignore others' responses can sometimes pose a challenge for teachers. Not only is it the teachers' job to evaluate students' learning of particular ideas or skills, but also they have to do so within restricted time limits of a course or a school year. In spite of these constraints, though, creativity still can be encouraged in classrooms at least some of the time (Claxton, Edwards, & Scale-Constantinou, 2006). Suppose, for example, that students have to be assessed on their understanding and use of particular vocabulary. Testing their understanding may limit creative thinking; students will understandably focus their energies on learning "right" answers for the tests. But assessment does not have to happen constantly. There can also be times to encourage experimentation with vocabulary through writing poems, making word games, or in other thought-provoking ways. These activities are all potentially creative. To some extent, therefore, learning content and experimenting or playing with content can both find a place— in fact one of these activities can often support the other. We return to this point later in this chapter, when we discuss student-centered strategies of instruction, such as cooperative learning and play as a learning medium.
This page titled 9.3: Critical Thinking and Creative Thinking is shared under a CC BY 3.0 license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by Kelvin Seifert & Rosemary Sutton (Global Text Project) via source content that was edited to the style and standards of the LibreTexts platform; a detailed edit history is available upon request.
The next step in critically examining a message is to interpret or explain the conclusions that we draw from it. At this phase we consider the evidence and the claims together. In effect we are reassembling the components that we parsed out during analysis. We are continuing our evaluation by looking at the evidence, alternatives, and possible conclusions.
Before we draw any inferences or attempt any explanations, we should look at the evidence provided. When we consider evidence we must first determine what, if any, kind of support is provided. Of the evidence we then ask:
Is the evidence sound?
Does the evidence say what the speaker says it does?
Does contradictory evidence exist?
Is the evidence from a valid credible source?
Even though these are set up as yes or no questions, you’ll probably find in practice that your answers are a bit more complex. For example, let’s say you’re writing a speech on why we should wear our seatbelts at all times while driving. You’ve researched the topic and found solid, credible information setting forth the numerous reasons why wearing a seatbelt can help save your life and decrease the number of injuries experienced during a motor vehicle accident. Certainly, there exists contradictory evidence arguing seat belts can cause more injuries. For example, if you’re in an accident where your car is partially submerged in water, wearing a seatbelt may impede your ability to quickly exit the vehicle. Does the fact that this evidence exists negate your claims? Probably not, but you need to be thorough in evaluating and considering how you use your evidence.
“Imply” or “Infer”?
For two relatively small words, imply and infer seem to generate an inordinately large amount of confusion. Understanding the difference between the two and knowing when to use the right one is not only a useful skill, but it also makes you sound a lot smarter!
Let’s begin with imply. Imply means to suggest or convey an idea. A speaker or a piece of writing implies things. For example, in Shonda’s speech, she implies it is better to drink more red wine. In other words, she never directly says that we need to drink more red wine, but she clearly hints at it when she suggests that drinking four or more glasses a day will provide us with health benefits.
Now let’s consider infer. Infer means that something in a speaker’s words or a piece of writing helps us to draw a conclusion outside of his/her words. We infer a conclusion. Returning to Shonda’s speech, we can infer she would want us to drink more red wine rather than less. She never comes right out and says this. However, by considering her overall message, we can draw this conclusion.
Another way to think of the difference between imply and infer is:
A speaker (or writer for that matter) implies.
The audience infers.
Therefore, it would be incorrect to say that Shonda infers we should drink more rather than less wine. She implies this. To help you differentiate between the two, remember that an inference is something that comes from outside the spoken or written text.
A man who does not think for himself does not think at all. ~ Oscar Wilde
NOTE TO FACULTY: DO YOU WANT THE REST OF THIS SECTION 16.2 CRITICAL THINKING BY SCHREIBER AND HARTRANFT OR JUST THE SECTION ON INFERENCE AND INTERPRETATION
Let’s look at two different inferences:
Inference i:
The sign says only 3 more miles to the coast, I suppose we’re getting close!
Inference d:
The definition of a scab is a union member who works during a strike, Manny is a union member who is working during a strike, so Manny is a scab.
Notice how even if we accept the premise of inference i, we need not accept the conclusion. Ten gazillion different things could make the sign inaccurate. Maybe the coast moved due to erosion or seismic activity, maybe the sign was stolen from its intended location and moved 10 miles inland, maybe the sign was a practical joke in the first place. Who knows?
For inference d, though, it’s not so open-ended. We have a definition and the claim that an individual meets that definition. If the definition of x is d and a is d, then a is an x. If we disagree with the conclusion, we either have to reject the definition, or the description of Manny. We can’t add new information to change the conclusion. Even if Manny is a good guy, or an alien in disguise, or a really pro-union guy, or supporting three kids and a wife with cancer, he’s still a scab if that is in fact the definition of a scab and if that is in fact a true description of Manny. Harsh, but certainly true if the premises are true.
The point of comparing inferences I and d is to see that there are two fundamentally different sorts of inference. We call an inference inductive if the support the premises provide for the conclusion is less than certain—if the premises don’t guarantee the conclusion. We call an inference deductive if the premises provide conclusive support for the conclusion—if they guarantee the conclusion or make the conclusion certain.
Deductive arguments are mathematical arguments like proofs and the like, logical arguments, arguments from definition, etc. If the premises are true and the argumentative structure is good, then the conclusion must be true.
Inductive arguments are arguments from analogy, arguments from qualified authority, causal inferences, scientific hypothetical reasoning, extrapolations from samples, and so on. Even if the argumentative structure is great, the truth of the premises only even makes the conclusion probably true at best.
There’s a third kind of argument where we select the best explanation from all of the available plausible explanations. We won’t spend time on it, but it’s worth noting its existence. It’s sometimes called “abduction.”
Definition: Kinds of Inference
Deduction: arguments where the premises guarantee or necessitate the conclusion
Mathematical Arguments, Logical Arguments, Arguments from Definition
Induction: arguments where the premises make the conclusion probable.
Analogies, Authority, Causal Inferences, Scientific Reasoning, Extrapolations, etc.
Inference to the Best Explanation or Abduction: arguments where the best available explanation is chosen as the correct explanation.
Remember that truth is a property of propositions. That is, only propositions can be true or false. Arguments can never be true or false. It simply doesn’t make any sense to claim that an argument is true or false.
Okay, let’s talk about deductive arguments for a hot minute. Deductive argumentative structures are either valid or invalid. An invalid argument structure is one where the premises don’t guarantee the truth of the conclusion, but they should, given the type of argument involved. For instance, if it’s a mathematical argument, then it’s premises should guarantee its conclusion so it’s deductive. But if its premises don’t in fact guarantee its conclusion, then its an invalid deductive argument.
A valid argument structure is an argument structure where the premises guarantee the conclusion. That is, if the premises are true, the conclusion follows necessarily. It’s impossible for the premises to be true and the conclusion false. If 2+2=3, and 6-3=3, then necessarily, beyond any doubt, 2+2=6-3. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. It’s impossible for that conclusion to be false without at least one of those premises being false as well. All true premises and a valid argument means the conclusion must be true.
Keep in mind that validity is about structures. So the previous paragraph’s arithmetical argument has the structure a+b=c, d+e=c, therefore a+b=d+e. Anything we sub in for the letters, if we create two true premises, will necessitate a true conclusion.
What’s a valid argument that has true premises? That’s called a sound argument. Soundness is about both structure and truth: you have to have a good structure and true premises to be a sound argument. An unsound argument, conversely, is an argument that either is invalid or has at least one false premise.
What’s Truth? A proposition makes a statement about the world and the world either is or isn’t the way the proposition describes it to be. One proposition claims that the Gross Domestic Product of the United States of America is approximately $14 Trillion. To find out whether this is true or false, go figure out what the GDP of the US is. Is it approximately $14 Trillion? Another proposition claims that there’s a brown cat on the front porch of your house. Is this true? To find out, just go look at the world: is there in fact a cat on your front porch? Is it a brown cat?
The propositions that make up an argument (the premises and the conclusion) are all either true or false. As with all things in philosophy, there is a lot more to say about the complexities here. Some of the earliest philosophy in the Western philosophical tradition is philosophy of logic or language. Aristotle, for instance, asked whether it’s true or false that there will be a sea battle tomorrow. Isn’t it contingent? Aren’t there lots of indeterminant factors involved in determining whether or not a sea battle will in fact take place? If so, it seems like that proposition is neither true nor false yet. So not every proposition is either true or false. We need not, though, deal with such issues. We can proceed as if every proposition is determinately either true or false.
Remember: Validity is a property of argument structure: it means “this structure is such that if the premises of any argument with this structure are true, then the conclusion of that argument must be true.”
It means: arguments of this structure will never have all true premises and a false conclusion. The structure guarantees the truth of the conclusion given the truth of the premises. Almost like the structure carries the truth of the premises directly to the conclusion without fail. A reliable one-way transporter of truth.
A sound argument is an argument that has a valid structure but then also has true premises. If an argument is sound, and if validity means the conclusion must be true if the premises are true, then the conclusion must be true, then what do we know about the truth of the conclusion of any sound argument? Yes! You’re so smart: the conclusion of any sound argument is guaranteed to be true.
Switching over to inductive arguments, we find an analogous set of properties. Again, inductive arguments are made up of propositions, which can be true or false.
The biggest difference is that even good inductive arguments only offer probabilistic support for their conclusions. Meaning accepting all of the premises doesn’t necessitate that one accept the conclusion, it merely gives one more or less strong reason for accepting the conclusion. So the argumentative structure of an inductive argument isn’t either good or bad, it’s a matter of degree (and often a matter of what the actual content is). An inductive argument can therefore offer stronger or weaker inductive support for its conclusion.
“Cogent” and “uncogent” are the words we use in place of “sound” and “unsound” for inductive arguments since inductive arguments cannot be sound or unsound. Cogent, therefore, means all true premises and the premises give strong inductive support for the conclusion.
Consider these two arguments:
I saw a black cat
Therefore all cats are black
I saw the Sun rise in the East every day of my life and everyone I know reports the same and history books and ancient astronomers report the same, so the Sun will rise in the East tomorrow.
Notice how the argument on the left provides pretty weak support for the conclusion. I can believe that the speaker in fact saw a black cat and still think that’s a bad reason for concluding that all cats are black. The right argument, though, is much stronger. There’s much more evidence and the nature of the evidence makes the conclusion much more probable given the truth of all of the premises.
Again, inductive arguments are collections of propositions (the premises and the conclusion(s) are all propositions. And each of these propositions might be either true or false depending on whether it accurately describes reality.
Note
An inductive argument cannot be valid. Why? Because a valid argument guarantees the truth of the conclusion. But an inductive argument only justifies its conclusion to some level of probability.
This page titled 1.2: Kinds of Inferences is shared under a CC BY 4.0 license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by Andrew Lavin via source content that was edited to the style and standards of the LibreTexts platform; a detailed edit history is available upon request.
As we start analyzing a claim we need to realize that we all begin this process with certain preconceived ideas and beliefs that can guide or misguide our thinking. Duncan Hines assumed that Japanese families had ovens, like those families in this country. Stated another way, we all have certain biases and assumptions that influence our thinking. When analyzing a claim, we need to understand the difference between an assumption and an inference we naturally make about the claim being argued.
Inference refers to something we believe to be accurate based on something else we believe to be true. If you email someone and they do not email you back, you may infer that they are mad or upset with you. Inferences can be correct interpretations of our environment or incorrect interpretations of our environment.
Assumption refers to something we already assume or presuppose. As described by Richard Paul and Linda Edler.
“Usually it is something we previously learned and do not question. It is part of our system of beliefs. We assume our beliefs to be true and use them to interpret the world about us. If we believe that it is dangerous to walk late at night in big cities and we are staying in Chicago, we will infer that it is dangerous to go for a walk late at night. We take for granted our belief that it is dangerous to walk late at night in big cities.” (Paul)
Based on our assumptions, we make inferences that guide our decisions and actions. To make sure these assumptions and inferences are accurate, we need to question them.
This page titled 5.2: Assumptions and Inferences is shared under a CC BY-NC 4.0 license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by Jim Marteney (ASCCC Open Educational Resources Initiative (OERI)) .
Reasoning and Reflection
NOTE: HAVE FACULTY CLARIFY WITH OTHER KEY WORDS
Judging/Decision Making (see also chapter 9 developing arguments)
ONCE YOU FINISH PLEASE PUT "FIRST ROUND AGGREGATION COMPLETE AT THE TOP OF THIS PAGE
This text is a remixed OER licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-Share and Share a like 4.0 International License unless otherwise stated . https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/deed.en
OER Links that might work to build off for this chapter:
Forms of Critical Thinking
Analysis/Evaluation
Convergent
Creativity and Curiosity
Divergent
Interpretation/Inference
Reasoning and Reflection
Research (see also chapter 11)
Judging/Decision Making (see also chapter 9 developing arguments)