YOU GOT ME FEELING EMOTIONS

Passive Behavior vs. Passive Voice

In Chapter 10, Heinrichs launches right into a discussion of how scientists (and others) use the passive voice as a rhetorical device. We're going to back it up a little and clarify exactly what that means, since it's a term people often misunderstand.

The term "passive voice" has nothing to do with the definition of passive as an accepting, often weak, type of behavior. A passive person rarely stands up for themselves, and just accepts what others tell them to do or think even if they don't agree.

The "passive voice" is a grammatical term—it has to do with how you actually construct a sentence. It essentially means leaving out the subject of a sentence so it's implied rather than stated. In other words, the person (or thing) who actually does the thing the sentence states doesn't show up in the sentence.

Here's an example of "active voice" (in which the subject is present) versus "passive voice" (in which the subject is left out):

• Active voice: Susan forgot to lock up last night, and the burglars simply walked right in the front door.

• Passive voice: The door hadn't been locked last night, and the burglars simply walked right in the door.

It's easy to see how big an impact such a simple thing like passive voice can have. Let's say you're the owner of a business giving a speech on security to your employees after your store was burgled. If you're really angry at Susan and want the rest of your employees to be mad at Susan, too, you'll call Susan out by using the active voice.

But what's the likely effect of that on everyone but poor, forgetful Susan? The other employees are probably going to go back to work thinking, "Geez, Susan better get her act together. I'd never do anything that stupid—and therefore I don't have to change anything at all."

If you'd thought ahead, you might have chosen to forgo the Susan-blaming in favor of making your employees look a little more closely at themselves. If you chose the passive voice, maybe your employees would walk away from the speech thinking something more like, "Geez, I can't say for sure that I always remember to lock every door every time I close up the store."

And that's way more effective.

The Funny

You saw some TED-tastic examples of humor in the last lesson, and Heinrichs actually went into detail about types of humor to use in Chapter 10. Remember: unless you're aiming to get your audience angry (to spur them on to some action), you'll probably want them nice and calm (so they're more receptive to your argument). As Heinrichs notes in Chapter 10, humor is an excellent calming device.

Of all the types of humor Heinrichs mentions, wit is your best bet because it plays off a situation—which is something you can set up by telling a story. Using wit is also a bit safer than going for wordplay or facetious humor, which is more likely to fall flat and result in groans or—even worse—total silence.

You'll read even more about wit and how to wield it later in this course by reading Chapter 18 of Thank You For Arguing, titled "Get Instant Cleverness."

Going for laughs may seem intimidating, especially for people who don't consider themselves funny. In that case, remember how Heinrichs said you can put your audience in a receptive mood just by getting them to smile.

Notice Heinrichs didn't list slapstick, a.k.a. physical humor, in his list. It's not a good idea to pretend to slip on a banana peel on your way up the podium. Why not? It might get your audience laughing, but they're probably laughing at you and not with you. That's a sure way to lose credibility, and once you've lost that, you've lost your audience, too.

The Advantageous

Another important concept in the chapters you read for this lesson is the advantageous. Besides the fact that this would make an excellent band name, it's also an incredibly important rhetorical device that any public speaker must know.

Let's take a look at how a speaker might frame their argument using this concept. Before we do, we think it's worth re-stating the definition Heinrichs lays out on page 105:

Base your argument on what's good for your audience, not for you.

Let's say you're the director of a nonprofit that helps convicted felons learn new skills and get jobs once they're out of prison. You're giving a speech to members of your community to try and get them to donate money to your nonprofit.

One way to frame the argument would be in terms of how their money would benefit you (a.k.a. your nonprofit):

"Reaching our goal of raising $10,000 with this campaign will make such a huge difference. It will mean I can hire two new full-time employees, which in turn means helping 50 to 100 more former inmates."

This may be very true, and it may be persuasive to some of the audience members, but it fails to focus on how donating to the nonprofit will be advantageous to the audience.

What if you (the director of the nonprofit, remember—and hey, good for you) relied on a more widespread commonplace: that less crime makes a community safer for everyone who lives there:

"Reaching our goal of raising $10,000 with this campaign will make such a huge difference. When former inmates become productive members of society, they're less likely to commit another felony. That means a safer community for all of us."

Does this technique make it seem like we're suggesting people only really care about themselves?

It does? Good. Because they do.