A Model Of The Strength And Appropriateness Of Argumentation In Organizational Contexts

© Blackwell Publishers Ltd 2002. Published by Blackwell Publishers, 108 Cowley Road, Oxford OX4 1JF, UK
and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA.
A MODEL OF THE STRENGTH AND APPROPRIATENESS OF
ARGUMENTATION IN ORGANIZATIONAL CONTEXTS
J A. A. S
Aston Business School

Argumentation within organizations depends for its effectiveness upon the context.
The model presented seeks to identify the three ways in which an arguer can
become more persuasive. The first way uses the fact that many of the dimensions
of argument strength (familiarity, evidence, simplicity, etc) are not appropriate in
particular organizational contexts, so that within each context the arguer must
select a particular combination of appropriate dimensions. The second way uses
the fact that each context has its own rhetorical requirements and gives rise to its
own appropriate rhetorical form which triggers a myth-like association. The third
way uses the fact that the four elements of context (arguer, audience, topic and
setting) must be skilfully integrated together, especially with regard to showing
empathy for the audience, balancing contradictory elements (such as promises and
warnings) in the same argument in order to minimize the simplifying effect of
rhetoric, and remaining tactically flexible enough to switch positions.

Argumentation frameworks within management have started to receive some
attention in the past few years. The most widely known framework is that sug-
gested by Toulmin (1958) and Toulmin et al. (1979). They suggested that an argu-
ment can be divided up into six parts – claim (conclusion), grounds (supporting
evidence and facts), warrant (inference rule), backing (convention, principles),
qualifier (degree of confidence) and exceptions (unless, until). This framework has
been used widely in the management field. For example, Mitroff and Mason (1980)
and Mason and Mitroff (1981, 1983) used an argumentation framework to
analyse policy arguments in the US Census Bureau and in a major metals company
which was considering diversification. Argument maps have been used for com-
paring a leader’s vision with those of internal and external stakeholders, investi-
gating how easy it is for managers to change their cognitions, how managers
formulate strategic issues, how they identify competitive advantage, and how they
argue about environmental interpretations (Huff, 1990). Besides its simplicity, the
framework does have other advantages for management researchers. One advan-
tage of using arguments in management research is that ‘Arguments are instances
Address for reprints: John A. A. Sillince, O&IM Group, Aston Business School, Aston University,
Birmingham B4 7ET, UK ( j.a.a.sillince@aston.ac.uk).
Journal of Management Studies 39:5 July 2002
0022-2380

during which actors make their assumptions overt. Therefore, researchers need
not impute motives and meanings’ (Bullis and Faules, 1991, p. 989). Similarly, argu-
mentation reveals the heuristics behind managerial cognition and strategic choice
in the form of premises, inference methods, and claims (Eisenhardt and Zbaracki,
1992, p. 33). These give more information than cause maps (Huff, 1990, pp. 36–7).
Despite the importance of context for argumentation, ‘No studies have investi-
gated what kinds of structure are useful in particular situations. Should the com-
municator use a problem–solution order for a topic, or a deductive approach? The
literature is silent on this question’ (Burgoon and Bettinghaus, 1980, p. 148). Petty
and Cacioppo (1986) state ‘one of the least researched and least understood ques-
tions in the psychology of persuasion is: What makes an argument persuasive?’.
Applications within strategic management (e.g. Walsh, 1995) have used argu-
mentation analysis to uncover managerial cognitions, but have not concerned
themselves with questions of argument strength, and hence cannot say anything
meaningful about the quality of managerial cognitions. Other work on manage-
ment discourse (e.g. Brown, 1998; Watson, 1995) has suggested that argumenta-
tion is useful for understanding the different vocabularies and understandings of
conflicting groups, but has also ignored what discourse is effective and why. Work
on rhetoric in management (e.g. Zbaracki, 1998) has focused more on the func-
tion of rhetoric within the organization rather than upon how it is expressed or
how it operates in the process of persuasion. The aim of this paper is to set out a
theoretical framework for the study of the persuasiveness of rhetorical forms and
argumentation within various organizational contexts. In order to classify all the
different ways in which organizational argumentation is appropriate, a model will
be developed below.
   
There are a number of relevant points which can be made with regard to the topic
of argumentation strength within organizations, from the viewpoint of discourse
analysis. Discourse analysts study how producers and interpreters of discourse
negotiate and navigate their way within repertoires of discourse types (Fairclough,
1989; 2000, p. 19). Part of this navigation process is influenced by how contexts
influence argumentation strength. Producers create their own contextual bound-
aries within discourse. For example, patients construct ‘everyday’ and ‘family’ styles
of talk in discussion with doctors, in order to avoid the doctor’s intrusive interro-
gation in the areas they produce as ‘family’ discourse (Labov and Fanshel, 1977).
These intra-textual boundaries must be taken into account in any analysis of argu-
mentation strength. Implicit propositions (often ideological, such as ‘one should
stand on one’s own feet’) add to an argument’s strength and add to its coherence.
Implicitness means the argument can work unconsciously and so can escape
challenge.
The effect of context on argument strength is part of a broader function of
language which consolidates and confirms the organization which uses it (Fowler
et al., 1979, p. 190) and because words change their meaning according to the
positions of those who ‘use’ them (Pecheux, 1982). For example, ‘militant’ may
have the meaning ‘active’ for a trade unionist, and ‘disruptive’ for a manager. These
alternative meanings rest upon discursive formations, or ideological formulations
586 . . . 
© Blackwell Publishers Ltd 2002

which determine what can and should be said (Pecheux, 1982, p. 111) and which
provide the setting for ‘preconstructeds’, or ready-formed elements which circu-
late between discursive formations. An example of a preconstructed is ‘the
turbulent business environment’, with its presupposition (useful in dealing with
trade unions) that a CEO is controlled by external forces.

The model comprises hypotheses about the relationships between eight elements.
These elements are the arguer, setting, audience, topic, content, form, integration
and strength. The arguer, setting, audience and topic all constitute the context. In
this paper many published verbatim quotes and hypothetical examples (both
shown italicized) well be given to show the importance of the context in an argu-
ment’s effectiveness.
Element 1: Arguer
The arguer may be an individual, a group or department, or an organization. It
is defined in terms of its credibility, likeability, values, whether or not it is break-
ing norms, its preference for the status quo, its ideology and interests, and the
resources (in terms of power, legitimacy, and urgency) of stakeholder values it is
aligned with.
Element 2: Setting
The organizational setting is defined to include regulations, allegiances, argu-
mentational loci (such as meetings and speeches), culture, the external environ-
ment, the atmosphere of the argumentative setting, organizational function and
form, the role of significant stakeholders, tasks, actions and artifacts.
Element 3: Audience
The audience is defined to include its power, goals, roles, the tightness of organi-
zational coupling, the stakeholders with whom the audience identifies, and its
preference for emotional versus rational argument.
Element 4: Topic
The topic is defined in terms of its specificity versus generality, complexity versus
simplicity, and seriousness versus levity.
Element 5: Content
Content is defined as the attributes of the argument, such as relevance or a
convincing use of evidence (shown in bold) which add to its strength and hence
which help to make it effective in a particular setting.
Element 6: Form
This is defined as the rhetorical use of eloquent language to persuade others, in
the form of standard, recurring templates which match premises to conclusions in
an easily acceptable way, such as the argument from authority (shown underlined)
and which have the following characteristics. Firstly, they are widely shared, taken-
for-granted and persuasive. Secondly, they are bipolar and on a suitable occasion
    587

the opposite pole may be used. Thirdly, they recall some deep value connotation,
enabling them to work at the unconscious level.
Element 7: Integration
This is the extent to which the argumentation integrates arguer, setting, audience,
and topic. This is affected by credibility (which links arguer and topic), likeability
(which links topic, arguer, and audience), the empathic understanding by the
arguer of how the audience views the topic, by an ability to switch positions, and
by the use of ambiguity to enable the dynamic interactive nature of argumenta-
tion to unfold.
Element 8: Strength
This is the persuasiveness, effectiveness, believability or strength of a particular
argument.
The context affects an argument’s strength through its content (e.g. relevance,
familiarity and simplicity) as shown in the following section.
   
Argument strength is a composite of many content dimensions (shown in bold
below) which tend to operate in a heuristic, satisficing way (Dudszak, 1994; Taylor
and Fiske, 1991). Many studies have introduced the concept of dimensions of
argument strength, but few have suggested the particular contexts in which they
become salient. Sillince and Minors (1991) listed 13 factors which may influence
argument strength. Hample and Dallinger (1990) reported that when people eval-
uate their own arguments, they consider relevance, truth and effectiveness. Johnson
(1994, p. 241) proposed relevance, acceptability and sufficiency. Gass et al. (1990)
suggested that perceived strength of argument was influenced by logicality,
emotionality, and ethicality. McCloskey (1983) referred to precedent, authority,
likeliness, plausibility and ‘obviousness’. These limited examples are from widely
different argument fields, and the meaning of the dimensions is never exactly
defined (nor can it be when it depends upon the context).
The first element relevant to appropriateness concerns the characteristics of the
arguer.
An important element in the ability to influence and persuade others is the
organizational position of the arguer (Katz, 1998, p. 423; Suchan and Dulek,
1998, p. 100). Those in positions of power will act as guardians or interpreters of
stakeholder values, or will be stakeholders themselves. Organizational position
will partly determine the perceived credibility and trustworthiness of the arguer,
both of which have an effect on the strength of his argumentation, and both of
which can be increased by the citation of sources of evidence (Fleshler et al.,
1974). However, sometimes the effect of ‘personal factors’ (Brewer et al., 1984;
Mintzberg, 1983; Pfeffer, 1992, p. 72) means that ‘an individual may gain influence
beyond what one would expect from an examination of his or her position within the organiza-
tional space’ (Katz, 1998, p. 423).
In organizational settings where the arguer’s position is unusual or breaks a
norm an important dimension of argument strength is sincerity. For example,
conscientious objectors in Sweden who apply for exemption from military service
588 . . . 

are asked ‘Why did you apply?’, ‘What are your personal feelings about military service?’ and
are asked their reaction to certain hypothetical situations, in order to gauge their
sincerity (Adelsward, 1991, p. 594).
The relationship between the power of the arguer and the argumentative
position chosen involves two archetypal voices – those of ‘priests’ employing
rational/scientific argumentation (the dimensions valued here are relevance and
comprehensiveness of evidence, absence of contradictory evidence,
appropriate inference rules to justify conclusions) and seeking the main-
tenance of the status quo and the organization’s predominant set of orderings,
and ‘prophets’ arguing from within a narrative paradigm (the dimensions valued
here are narrative coherence and fidelity to a familiar, prototypical
narrative; Fisher, 1992) who seek new perspectives from which to criticize these
predominant orderings (Burke, 1984). For the party lacking power the most effec-
tive power strategy is to use a prophetic voice attacking the privileged narrative,
thereby challenging the ruling group’s orientation (Collins, 1991, p. 747).
These considerations suggest the following proposition:
Proposition 1: The characteristics of the arguer have an influence
on the appropriateness of the dimensions of argumentation
strength.
The second element relevant to appropriateness concerns the organizational
setting within which argumentation takes place.
Douglas (1982) argues that argumentation is a setting-based sense making
activity that varies along the dimensions of ‘grid’ (regulations, rules) and ‘group’
(allegiance to a group). According to this view, organizational setting forces
argumentation to be evaluated according to its alignment with organizationally
sanctioned regulations, rules and logics (an ‘administrative’ criterion) or according
to group allegiances towards powerful groups and significant stakeholder
values (a ‘political’ criterion).
Edelman (1988) has suggested that small, closed groups (where everyone speaks)
exhibit bargaining styles of discourse based upon tangible decisions, whereas large
audiences (where one speaks and many listen) generate intangible, promissory ges-
tures. Usually such closed groups are the setting for decisions (the ‘back region’ where
much work is done) which are then communicated and legitimized to large audi-
ences via a ‘front region’ where the issues and dilemmas are dramatized (Goffman,
1959; Trujillo, 1983). Assuming the degree of hostile scrutiny is expected to be low,
front regions will value the ‘public relations’ approach – emphasizing communi-
cation containing sincerity, narrative coherence, fidelity to a familiar
prototypical narrative, absence of opposing arguments, absence of
opposing evidence, familiarity, and concreteness. Assuming the degree
of hostile scrutiny is expected to be higher in back regions, communication in back
regions will emphasize relevance of evidence, the comprehensiveness of
evidence, appropriateness of inference rules of justifying conclu-
sions, and stakeholder values. The same speaker must shape his argumenta-
tion very differently depending upon whether the organizational setting is ‘back’
or ‘front’, small group or large audience. On the one hand, in closed deliberative
meetings, where the arguer and the audience share the argumentational floor, the
partial nature of the arguer (influenced by his organizational role) is highly visible
    589

to the audience, and is discounted for what it is – the role-filler speaks, rather than
an individual. For example, during the Cuban Missile Crisis, an important ques-
tion was whether or not the presence of Russian missiles in Cuba constituted a
military threat to the USA. Analysis of the ‘back region’ meeting transcripts ‘reveals
how bureaucratic and organizational roles can constrain argumentation in deliberative forums.
The Joint Chiefs of Staff, who are career military officers, and who fulfill the role of defending
the nation against military attack saw the crisis in military terms. The civilian officials, like
McNamara, Martin and Kennedy, were more concerned with the political implications of doing
nothing to remove the missiles . . . As Ambassador to the United Nations, Stevenson was as
constrained by the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He argued in favour of a diplomatic solution . . .’
(Bjork, 1991, p. 853). On the other hand, however, when the audience is outside the
organization (a ‘front region’), a speaker may choose completely different language
– ‘In Kennedy’s televised address to the nation on October 22, . . . there is no indication that the
missiles may not be militarily significant’ (Bjork, 1991, p. 853).
The importance of the front–back region distinction is illustrated by a study
of campaigners protesting against various large companies’ unethical policies
(Panetta, 1994, p. 989). The protesters found their most effective setting was to put
their arguments forward at the place of worship (speaking inside the church) of
those companies’ top executives. The weak point that the protesters had discov-
ered was that top executives are vulnerable to embarrassment within their place
of worship. In another case, an attempt to get the New York Port Authority to hire
more police, the police union hired a public relations agency to ‘float stories about’
the Port Authority in order to cause embarrassment in front of a wide audience
(Dutton and Dukerich, 1991, p. 534). Embarrassment is therefore a dimension
of argument strength which is regarded as salient in very specific ‘front region’
settings.
The locus of argumentation (i.e. where the argumentation takes place) will affect
the persuasiveness of argumentation, whether the locus is a speech to hundreds
of loyal employees, or a negotiation between two opposed factions, or a television
appeal or a face to face meeting between friends (Burgoon and Bettinghaus, 1980,
p. 149).
Each type of locus has different argumentation resources available to partici-
pants and so this influences the relative significance of dimensions of argumenta-
tion strength. A study of a mediation centre and a small claims court suggest
differences between mediated and litigated loci. Litigation places more emphasis
on relevance, comprehensiveness of evidence, the appropriateness
of inference rules to justify conclusions, avoidance of fallacies, and
a rational mode of evaluation. Litigation with a court judge or tribunal
chairman, unlike trial by jury, places no emphasis on simplicity as a dimension
of argumentation strength. Mediation gives more weight to familiarity, ad
hominem motives, complexity, non-monetary aspects and an emotional
mode of evaluation (DeStephen and DeStephen, 1991, p. 678). Argumentation
in committees emphasizes supporting propositions rather than challenges
(Gouran, 1984, 1985, 1987; Gouran et al., 1986; Meyers et al., 1991, pp. 59–60)
and overlooks factual evidence (Hirokawa and Pace, 1983), for opinions
(Hirokawa, 1984) and fails to examine all assumptions in order to maintain
consensus and an agreeable atmosphere. Some argumentation settings within
organizations such as interviews may be ones where disagreement is not even
expected (Adelsward, 1991) but where rhetoric is expected (Einhorn, 1981). And
590 . . . 

standards of relevance are weaker in conversation than in legal pleadings
(McEvoy, 1994, p. 54).
Organizations may be the settings for cultural differences in argumentation.
Such differences often exist at the level of face behaviour: Spanish professional
negotiators in training centres consider emotional appeals to be strong (because
they are more verbally direct, more invasive of the other’s personal domain, and
more person-oriented), and negotiators tend to both occupy protagonist roles,
whereas Danish negotiators consider rational arguments to be strong (because
they are more task oriented) and negotiators tend to occupy protagonist and
antagonist roles (Grindsted, 1991, p. 725). Sexist ways of speaking (with or about
women) contribute to the reproduction of gender inequality (van Dijk, 1997,
p. 20) so that gender style is sometimes used by an audience to downgrade an
utterance’s effect (Sandig and Selting, 1997; Tannen, 1990). One of those sexist
practices is the representation of women as unable to hold a rational argument
(West et al., 1997). Such cultural differences may exist between industries too:
‘managers [in a large retailing company] told stories which emphasised the difference
between retailing and manufacturing because retailing was run on “trust” and “love”’ ( Johnson,
1988, p. 81).
Organizational setting may even include the external environment. For
example, there is evidence that the preference for rationality versus emotionality
(and hence what will serve as a judicious balance between rationality and
emotionality) in management rhetoric varies with long term cycles of economic
growth (rational rhetoric dominates in upturns and emotional rhetoric in down-
turns) and that it is related to surges in other management fashion-related ideas
(Abrahamson, 1997; Baftunek, 1984). This may be a reflection of a deeper regu-
larity – those in less fortunate positions in terms of power (women) or income
(the poor) may use more emotional argumentation. Also, the changing state of the
external environment has an effect on the importance of how timely the argu-
ment is: ‘We are optimistic and we are pushers and you push very hard while you can, but once
the market turns, you put your helmets on and ride it out’ (Chrysler executive in Moritz
and Seaman, 1981, p. 109). Organizations depend crucially upon their external
environment and so external information is highly relevant: ‘Suppliers, customers,
and competitors in particular are in a position to affect the stream of deliberate strategy because
their experience is directly relevant to the organization’ (Huff, 1982, p. 123). Also, compet-
itive advantage comes from novelty: ‘a new marketing idea is closely watched by com-
petitors and if successful is often adopted and modified’ (Huff, 1982, p. 123).
Proposition 2: Organizational setting has an influence on the appro-
priateness of the dimensions of argumentation strength.
Another element of the context which affects appropriateness concerns the orga-
nizational audience which listens to the argumentation.
An audience’s persuadability will depend on its values. Within organizations,
when different professionals speak, their roles and professional values influence
their argumentation. Within hospitals, for example, administrators and nurses are
influenced by their different professional orientations and therefore use different
languages and rationalities: ‘Administrators’ rationalities are based on the “new healthcare
environment’s” values of action and efficiency. Nurses’ rationalities reflect a time when hospitals
    591

were sacred places where the poor and the sick could be cared for’ (Willihnganz, 1991, p. 924).
To administrators, important dimensions are the relevance and comprehen-
siveness of evidence, absence of opposing arguments and evidence,
and appropriate inference rules for justifying conclusions. To nurses,
important dimensions are empathy (with their patients), familiarity (with their
patients’ problems), and concreteness (how what they say can improve the care
of their patients) (Wilihnganz, 1991, p. 924). Bullis and Faules (1991) investigated
accounts of work justifications given by different professional groups during job-
related choices. Accountants use argumentation which refers to self-interest
(money, working conditions, personal advancement) and stakeholder values
(policy); scientists refer to independence from stakeholder values (personal
fulfilment, and interdependence) and practicality and concreteness (the
specific nature of the job); airforce pilots refer to self-interest, practicality
and concreteness (the value of the job, the intrinsic satisfaction of the job, and
on-the-job experience of flying).
In general it is known that an audience is more likely to either engage in exten-
sive issue-relevant rational thinking during argumentation (the so-called ‘central
route’ to persuasion – Petty and Cacioppo, 1984), or to rely on a simple heuristic
(e.g. using the credibility of the arguer (Ratneshwar and Chaiken, 1986), or using
the extent to which other people are persuaded (Axsom et al., 1987) or using the
likeability of the arguer (Petty and Cacoppio, 1986) – the so-called emotional
‘peripheral route’ to persuasion (Petty and Cacioppo, 1984). Issue-relevant think-
ing increases when the individual has high ‘ego-involvement’ (the topic is impor-
tant to the individual and is central to that individual’s sense of self and so on)
and when the topic is relevant to the individual (Petty and Cacioppo, 1984), when
the individual knows more about issue (Wood and Kallgren, 1988), and when
the individual enjoys thinking (Hangtvedt et al., 1988). When audiences follow the
peripheral route, they are ‘intuitive, lazy and impulsive, swayed this way and that by their
attitudes, prejudices, and pieties’ (Willard, 1989, p. 183). When they take the central
route, ‘Argument quality can matter, does matter’ (O’Keefe, 1995, p. 9). It is commonly
believed that juries in law trials are more prone to emotional appeals by lawyers
than are judges. Also, people under stress reject highly intense persuasion such as
that using fear appeals (Jones and Burgoon, 1975).
Some dimensions of argument strength relate to an audience’s preference for
rational or scientific argumentation. Where rationality is encouraged, relevance
has been observed to increase argument strength (Chaiken and Stangor, 1987).
Arguments which take account of several points of view (comprehensiveness
of evidence) have been observed to be more persuasive than arguments
which do not ( Jackson and Allen, 1987), although general information about the
evidence–audience relationship is poor: ‘One might expect that evidence persuasive to one
audience would not be persuasive to others . . . [yet] . . . the study of evidence has been neglected’
(Burgoon and Bettinhaus, 1980, p. 147) and over-dependent upon studies involv-
ing student audiences or involving legal settings (Newman and Newman, 1969).
Inconsistency (with other related arguments or contradictory evidence) has been
found to reduce the credibility of an arguer (Swann, 1987). The existence of
assumption surfacing techniques (Finney and Mitroff, 1986) attests to the belief in
the importance of the need to clearly state all assumptions.
Often, however, audiences, for whatever reason, do not want rational argument.
Arguments which do not follow the rational form provide argumentation of several
592 . . . 

different types. At least four of these types are argumentation which is easy,
emotional, loyal, or natural. Easy argument considers the cognitive ease with which
the audience can accommodate argumentation. In such cases, arguments which
cannot easily be put into practice are weak. Audiences susceptible to such easy
argumentation make meta-decisions on issues – for example, about whether
they are for or against change on an issue. Such pro status quo audiences are more
likely to be persuaded by pro status quo arguments and vice versa (Areni and
Lutz, 1988) in line with the theory of reasoned action (Ajzen and Fishbein, 1980).
Simplicity (Edwardes, 1990; Gass et al., 1990) and familiarity (Darnell, 1963;
Hovland and Mandell, 1952) have similarly been found to increase argument
strength for those who prefer easy argumentation, although such studies excluded
other potentially relevant audience attributes. A one-line argument is simpler and
hence stronger than an argument that requires several pages. Managers im-
plementing TQM have found they had to water down the heavy statistical
methods involved: ‘if it’s all statistics then it won’t work in our organization’: (government
agency employee in Zbaracki, 1998, p. 615). Koballa (1986), in a study of trainee
teachers, found that case study reports are much more persuasive than statistical
summaries, even though the case study related to only one case, whereas the sta-
tistical summaries covered large numbers of cases. However, in some settings (e.g.
a lawsuit) complexity may be less of a liability. Windes (1961) analysed Adlai
Stevenson’s presidential campaign and found that persuasive speeches contained
force and directness (simple sentences, figures of speech, imagery, restatement
and repetition, rhetorical questions, question and answer, and personification), and
freshness, variety and interest (achieved by the use of irony, satire, proverbs,
parables, aphorisms, alliteration, exaggeration, understatement, metonymy, allu-
sion and reference). Concreteness also affects argument strength. It takes several
forms. Firstly, statistics, facts and examples (so long as they are sufficiently simple)
are more effective than abstract arguments. Secondly, manifest verbs (e.g. have,
buy, produce, steal) are more forceful for generalizations than subjective verbs (e.g.
get angry with, like, understand, avoid) (Gilson and Abelson, 1965).
Weick (1993) has suggested that organizations veer between needing more
accuracy (involving rational and complex argumentation), and stability (requiring
self-fulfilling prophesies). Self-fulfilling prophesies may arise from managers’ use of
stereotypes (Tversky and Kahneman, 1974), which may often be psychologically
necessary. Organizational identity is increased using stereotypes – for example,
Dutton and Dukerich (1991) found that employees of the New York Port Author-
ity attempted to influence their organization’s actions towards the stereotyped
public perception of what it should be doing, and that this realignment increased
their sense of identification with their organization. Stereotypes can be reinforced
by the use of narrative coherence and fidelity to narrative prototype.
Fidelity to narrative models involves the selection of images or touchstone story
elements’ (Boyce, 1995, p. 120) using labelling of characters in vivid, good–bad
contrasts such as victims and villains, with a plot recognizable from schemas in the
Bible and elsewhere, in order to prescribe a clear moral message with relevance
to the here and now (Fisher, 1992). For example, when senior managers wait fear-
fully as a new parent company completes an acquisition, they think of stories of
similar acquisitions and what happened to their senior managers (e.g. ‘I’ve heard of
companies being bought out, that if they were bought out by a big conglomerate, that company
would come right in and wipe out the management. We expected that’; senior manager in
    593

Isabella, 1990, p. 15). On the other hand rational argumentation may challenge
sycophantic, ‘single loop’, positive feedback (Argyris and Schon, 1974) by provid-
ing a forum which enables and encourages negative feedback and counter exam-
ples. Linear predictions in the form of straight line extrapolation of trends using
too many simplifying assumptions satisfy a need for stability, whereas accuracy
results from argumentation, by means of finding exceptions and warnings.
Emotional argumentation engages the audience’s feelings to aid the persuasion
process. There is always some degree of emotionality involved in argumenta-
tion. For example, mission statements always attempt an upbeat note (hope, aggres-
siveness) rather than evoking anger, anxiety or hopelessness. Although a large
number of (one could argue, artificial) studies have attempted to induce fear rel-
atively unsuccessfully, when fear is induced the recommendation thereby becomes
more effective (Boster and Mongeau, 1984 give a review). It has been suggested
that when an argument advocates doing something, an active emotion helps (e.g.
anger or fear), whereas when the position is not to do something, a passive emotion
(e.g. wonder, sorrow or resignation) is more appropriate (Sillince and Minors,
1991). Organizational leaders wishing to make their workforce accept the inevi-
tability of plant closures often appeal to the emotion of resignation, whereas union
leaders wishing to galvanize support for a strike use appeals to their supporters’
anger.
Law courts are settings where the choice of emotional versus rational
argumentation depends upon the circumstances. Defendants in court typically
use three main types of excuse – ‘didn’t do it’, ‘Yes, but I couldn’t help it’, and ‘It wasn’t
so bad’, each of which appeals to different types of audiences – other litigants,
fellow lawyers, and society (Boukema, 1994, p. 91). The first excuse requires
rational or scientific argument as described above. The second excuse requires an
emotional appeal (using natural, easy, emotional or loyal argument as described
here) regarding the unfortunate defendant. The third requires an argument
dissociating the alleged action from social codes of conduct which have caused it
to be labelled an offence.
Loyal argumentation takes account of the audience’s interests or affiliations.
Montgomery and Oliver (1996, p. 652) suggested that an important determinant
of argument strength is linkage between an argument and a stakeholder
goal which is both salient and relevant to an organization. This idea is contained
in Sillince’s (1986, pp. 113–15) stakeholder theory of argument strength, which
suggests that parties such as organizations have concerns, strengths and weaknesses
which themselves affect the strength of the argument. This is illustrated by
scientists in a lab run along university lines who suddenly had to justify themselves
commercially (Riley et al., 1991, p. 878).
Natural argumentation enables the audience to be influenced subliminally. It
has been observed that there are advantages of suppressing questionable assump-
tions (Ilatova, 1994). In such cases, arguments are stronger if the integration of
arguer, audience, topic and setting is implicit so that it emerges naturally rather
than being explicitly stated. This is not to say that arguments with suppressed
premises should not have explicit and clear conclusions: massages that include
explicit recommendations and conclusions are more persuasive than messages
without those elements (Biddle, 1966). Narrative argument using persuasive
themes which are buried within stories is particularly effective, because stories are
a traditional dramatic form and the audience is able to judge the argument quality
594 . . . 

by means of typical storytelling evaluation methods such as coherence and fidelity
to other stories (Fisher, 1987) and to avoid jargon and assumptions of conflicting
specialist fields. Ways of deriving argumentational evaluative criteria implicit in
the selections made in storytelling have been suggested by Wilber (1978).
The goals of the audience are important in several other respects. Practical-
ity (if the goal is to implement something), and the absence of contradictory
evidence (if the goal is a critically important one) are examples where the goals
of the audience may be all-important in their receptivity to a particular argument.
Also the power difference between the arguer and their audience may have an
impact on how the argumentation is received. Jablin (1982), in a large study of
800 subordinates in 15 organizations, found that subordinates in the lowest levels
of their organizations perceive significantly less openness from their superiors. This
may mean that large power differences together with downward directed argu-
mentation may require the use of emotional argumentation (such as appeals
for support, the use of positive politeness (Morand, 1996), and the use of reas-
surance and promissory appeals) to overcome suspicion or resentment.
Proposition 3: The organizational audience has an influence on the
appropriateness of the dimensions of argumentation strength.
The fourth element relevant to appropriateness concerns the topic.
The effect of the topic on persuasion is central to social judgement theory, which
views the important features of a persuasive communication as the position it
advocates and the clarity of its position (Sherif et al., 1965). However, social judge-
ment theory ignores the soundness of the reasoning, arguments or evidence, or
the content and organization of the communication (O’Keefe, 1990). When the
topic is very specific to a particular setting (rather than being about a general
principle), the relevance of the argument becomes all-important.
When the argumentation specifically relates to getting things done (implemen-
tation of decisions and policies) an important dimension of argument strength is
practicality. For example, in the implementation phase after the reorganization
at AT&T, how to get things implemented became an important topic, and prac-
ticality of arguments became a significant dimension of argument strength: ‘People
didn’t have any understanding of how to work across organizational lines . . . I had to learn
how to coordinate, delegate, and follow up in a hurry’ (AT&T executive in Schlesinger
et al., 1987, p. 81). When the specificity of the topic relates to its ephemerality
(when events are changing rapidly), then the timeliness of evidence will be
all-important.
The use of evidence is clearly related to the topic. Yet few studies exist relat-
ing types of evidence to types of topic (Burgoon and Bettinghaus, 1980, p. 147).
One exception is Marwell and Schmidt (1967) who related different types of setting
(a job situation, a family situation, a sales situation, and a situation involving a
roommate) to effectiveness of fear appeals.
The salience of the topic is also important. The absence of contradictory
evidence may be crucial in a complex or highly important topic as is the use of
comprehensive evidence (e.g. ‘If you’re trying to take money away from folks they want
to know exactly why, so you have to go into a lot more detail’; ‘Darlene’ in Katz, 1998,
p. 430). When a person uses emotional (rather than rational) argument (such
    595

as self belittling humour) for an important topic (such as the future survival of
one’s company) then the contrast of important topic and gallows humour has more
rhetorical impact: ‘For 12,000 miles or until the company goes out of business – whichever
comes first’ (Chrysler executive wittily describing his company’s car warranty in
Moritz and Seaman, 1981, p. 125).
These considerations suggest that following proposition:
Proposition 4: The topic has an influence on the appropriateness
of the dimensions of argumentation strength.
The context affects the argument’s strength through its form (e.g. arguments of
commitment, causation, etc) as is shown below.
   
Management researchers have observed that people see the world as a set of con-
trasts. Barley, in an investigation of a funeral home, noted that ‘perceived opposites
are regarded as similar’ (1983, p. 410). The chapel was viewed as a home, and the
(dead) body was viewed as asleep (alive). Fiol (1990), in a study of annual reports
of five medium sized companies in the chemical industry, used a semiotic tech-
nique which sectioned off the managers’ worlds into pairs of orthogonal contrasts
(such as opportunity versus non-opportunity). Eden et al. (1979) has used Kelly’s
(1955) theory of bipolar personal constructs to help managers understand their
strategic decision processes. Sillince (1995) has shown the close similarity between
strategic argumentation and shared bipolar constructs.
Rhetoric is also based upon the construction of contrasts. Rhetorical forms are
bipolar rules of thumb, mottos or proverbs in the form of propositions and
counter-propositions which people frequently have recourse to in order to justify
arguments. Gamson (1992) and Billig (1987) have both argued that such motto-
structures are fundamental to thinking and arguing about action and policy, in the
form of ‘dilemmas’ (intentional rhetorical tools designed to eliminate uncertainty)
or as theme and counter-theme. Francis Bacon (1858) published 47 such proverbs
(e.g. ‘Look before you leap’), each of which argued in one direction, together with its
opposite (e.g. ‘A stitch in time saves nine’).
An example of a rule of thumb is the taken-for-granted folk assumption that
what is natural is good. This is the rhetorical form of naturalness (e.g. ‘Do this
because it is natural, reasonable, or usually done’). Managers use it to argue the inevitabil-
ity and unchallengeability of their proposals. Ecology campaigners use this widely
accepted assumption (e.g. ‘Keep the countryside natural’). Naturalness is linked to other
values such as freedom from chemicals (e.g. ‘Only natural foods sold here’). It is often
invoked when attempting with incomplete information to justify a particular recon-
struction of an event (e.g. arguments in which it is ‘inconceivable’ or ‘it beggars belief ’
that someone would have acted in a particular way). A related assumption (used
in the law) is what is reasonable is good. Another related, more commonly accepted
assumption is what is usual is good (e.g. consider the acceptability in court of the
explanation: ‘I took the left hand fork because it’s the one I usually take’). This assumption
explains the finding that when companies claim a restricted set of attributes to be
superior about their product, they are believed more than when they foolishly
596 . . . 

stretch the public’s credibility and claim that their product is superior on all attrib-
utes (Hunt and Kernan, 1984). These assumptions have several important features.
Firstly, they are widely shared, taken-for-granted and persuasive. Because of this
they are best identified by knowledgeable insiders (Schall, 1983). Secondly, rhetor-
ical forms are bipolar – on occasion the opposite pole may be used (Sillince, 1995),
as in situations which are special or unusual, which justify exceptional action (e.g.
‘It was a crisis: and so I had to do something unusual’). The key thing about such pole-
switching (‘slot change’ in Kelly, 1955) is that it depends on the context changing.
Thirdly, rhetorical forms share a property of myths in that they have an ability to
instantly, in a reflex action, recall some deep value connotation, enabling them to
work at the unconscious level. The naturalness rhetorical form invokes the values
of innocence, purity, safety and effortlessness and their related, generally ‘good’
associations. Fourthly, rhetorical forms vary in effectiveness across different social
contexts: an argument that the deserving should be rewarded will not be effective
in a problem-identification workshop (but a fear appeal or a warning would be
appropriate), and an appeal to mercy is inappropriate when selecting among
several alternative policy options (arguing what are the advantageous conse-
quences would be appropriate). The naturalness argument would be appropriate
when supporting the status quo, but would be inappropriate when drawing up a
budget. Other examples of rhetorical forms are discussed and classified in
Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca (1969).
The first element of rhetorical appropriateness concerns the arguer.
The rhetorical form may be affected by the particular cognitive, sense making
preoccupations of the manager. Managers who are successful focus on causation
arguments referring to internal activities because their underlying assumptions are
not challenged by good performance. However, they use causation arguments
which attend to external causes of performance in bad times because they are
searching for a new frame with which to make sense of the environment (Huff
and Schwenk, 1990).
One characteristic of the arguer is how much experience he or she has. Top
managers use their past experience for strategy formulation, thus making use of
arguments of precedent (‘Do X because X worked last time’). For example, both
Romney (former head of General Motors) and Goodwin (former head of Johns-
Mansville) offered advice to the Chrysler Corporation (Miller, 1979) which was a
clear reflection of their own past. Goodwin suggested getting in a tough manage-
ment consultant, and Romney suggested Chrysler should get one viable car
and stick with it – both arguments based on their previous, successful experiences
(Huff, 1982, p. 123). Induction or experience-based argumentation occurs because
‘Small movements in strategy allow deliberate experimentation and sensing of the environment
through action; if such small movements prove successful, then further development of strategy
can take place’ (Johnson, 1988, p. 79). An example of an argument using induction
is ‘Usually in a government agency it takes some sort of cataclysmic event . . . Our cataclysmic
event happened in 1985’ (Director at a government agency site in Zbaracki, 1998,
p. 613). Generalization involves the selection of key events from experience using
labelling derived from pre-existing schemas in order to prescribe strategy
(Huff, 1990).
Arguments are also influenced by the ideology and interests of the arguer –
therefore although they may be arguing with each other, two parties may use very
different forms of rhetoric. The role played by the arguer (e.g. worker represen-
    597

tatives) influences the types of justification selected (e.g. fairness of pay offer,
comparison with other similar workers, threat of strike action). Employers use
arguments of deservedness or arguments attempting to show how workers have
added nothing extra since the last pay deal with justifications of qualitative
difference (e.g. ‘We want significantly greater productivity but the workers don’t satisfy this so
we don’t reward them’) or justifications of dissociation (in which the words ‘not a real’
or ‘not really’ are often significant markers e.g. ‘The new working arrangements are not a
real increase in productivity’).
Arguers take a meta-position on whether change is or is not desired and this
position influences their choice of rhetorical form (Perelman and Olbrechts-
Tyteca, 1969). Analogies cause a break from normal thinking (e.g. ‘You don’t go to
a doctor to have a will drawn up. You don’t go to a lawyer to have a leg set. Therefore you
shouldn’t go to an accountant to build a car’; Chrysler executive criticizing the ‘bean
counter’, accountant-obsessed senior management style in Moritz and Seaman,
1981, p. 126) and so they are part of the armoury of those wishing to attack the
status quo. Other rhetorical forms favouring change are qualitative difference (e.g.
‘The current situation is not the same as the desired situation’), consequence (e.g. ‘This con-
sequence will happen if we don’t do something’), example (e.g. ‘Then I finally sent one of my
most critical managers – she is Teflon coated to fads and to bullshit. And she came back believ-
ing . . . It was after largely that I said “All right now let’s really consider it”’; hospital CEO
finally deciding to implement TQM in Zbaracki, 1998, p. 615), scenario (e.g. ‘They
[the competition]’re going to beat our brains in with that [Chrysler’s low profitability]
and we’re dead in the market’ Chrysler executive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981, p. 259),
and dissociation (e.g. ‘We want to be perceived by the customer as problem-solving and not
part of the problem’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 56).
On the other hand, pro-status quo arguers have another toolkit of rhetorical
forms available. For example, in a US public policy committee appointing a lesbian
to high office, those arguing for the status quo (against the appointment) used
arguments of authority (quoting respected leaders) and appeals to anger (at the
appointee’s criticism of sanctified institutions) (DeLoach, 1994, p. 268). Also prece-
dence rhetoric ‘usually embedded in organizational routines’ (Johnson, 1988, p. 81) may
be used by those resisting change. Also commitment rhetoric (e.g. ‘So much has been
invested already that we should continue’) may be used to justify escalating commitment
to a failing policy: managers allocate more funds to a project if it is seen to be
failing than if it is seen to be succeeding (Staw, 1981).
Mitchell et al. (1997) have suggested seven types of stakeholder according to
whether or not they possess different combinations of legitimacy, urgency and
power. This typology is a useful means of categorizing arguers within organiza-
tions and the different rhetorics they use.
When the arguer has power alone (without legitimacy or urgency), then rhetoric
will aim to have organizational action taken for granted (Suchman, 1995, pp.
575–6). Often this takes place in a slow build up of actions and acceptance as in
argument by stages. An example is ‘But the other thing that does work, I think, is saying
the same message even under different titles. Eventually it starts to sink in . . . I start internalis-
ing that there is an intent’ (a TQM sceptic at a manufacturing plant quoted in
Zbaracki, 1998, p. 628). Other rhetoric will use naturalness, gain maximization;
Johnson, 1988, p. 79), and quantitative difference (e.g. ‘any new venture must show
promise to substantially exceed that [16 per cent] figure’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger
et al., 1987, pp. 198–9).
598 . . . 

When the stakeholder arguer possesses urgency alone (without power or legiti-
macy) then rhetoric will aim to challenge the status quo, and rhetoric will use a
number of forms. One of these is incompatibility (e.g. ‘The company is not doing what
its policies suggest it should do’). Another is dissociation or ‘segregation’ (Suchman,
1995, p. 590) (e.g. ‘All these guys [government regulators] suddenly got religion. Where
were they when we needed them? [dissociation of past – when Chrysler needed finan-
cial help – from the present]’; Chrysler executive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981,
p. 156; ‘People don’t know who to call . . . In the past we had a whole body of “case law” on
who was responsible for what. With the restructuring no-one knew’ [dissociation of pre-
dictable past from unpredictable present]; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al.,
1987, p. 78). Others include without limit (e.g. ‘The company can’t keep exploiting its
workers in this way – there’s got to be a limit’), qualitative difference (e.g. ‘We need to take
a more objective, independent look at capital expenditures to analyse payback and risk [i.e. the
current situation is qualitatively unsatisfactory]; AT&T executive in Schlesinger
et al., 1987, p. 79) and fairness (e.g. ‘All the marbles are on the side of the regulators’; one
of many references by Chrysler executives to unfairness which indicated an exter-
nal locus of control expressed in the fatalistic belief that all the important factors
affecting Chrysler’s future were beyond its control; Moritz and Seaman, 1981,
p. 159). The rhetoric may aim to induce change (Suchman, 1995, p. 586), and
rhetoric will use qualitative difference (e.g. ‘We still haven’t made the important change
needed ’), promises (e.g. ‘This change will help the company survive’), maximize gain (e.g.
‘Don’t miss this opportunity’), or necessary means (e.g. ‘We will not survive unless we
change’). Or the rhetoric may aim to obstruct change so that it will use threat appeals
(e.g. ‘No Japanese product is going under the hood with my name on it! ’; a Chrysler execu-
tive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981, p. 188), qualitative difference (e.g. ‘The new struc-
ture left the whole organization wondering where the new power base was going to be’; AT&T
executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 68), without limit (e.g. ‘We just hit our limits
in terms of how much we could be pushed around and in terms of how much stress we could
live with and deny’; flight attendant in Bacharach et al., 1996, p. 489), ad hominem
(e.g. ‘Something happened to the man [Townsend] in the middle sixties. He turned into a dif-
ferent guy . . . He jiggled people a lot and usually the people he jiggled were his friends’; Chrysler
executive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981, pp. 96, 127; ‘This is the first time Iacocca has
stubbed his toe. We really got the shaft’; Chrysler executive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981,
p. 253), and dissociation (e.g. ‘I would characterize the attitude of people on the outside
like this: if the Bell Operating Companies go out of business, that’s OK . . . But that’s not my
attitude . . .’ using dissociation to create a difference between outsiders and insiders
and thus to engender a fighting spirit prior to the imminent breakup of AT&T in
Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 187).
When the stakeholder arguer possesses legitimacy alone (without power or
urgency), then rhetoric may be aimed at establishing moral authority (Mitchell et
al., 1997; Suchman, 1995; Weber, 1978) using arguments of precedent and author-
ity (e.g. ‘The service motivation has been bred in the bones of telephone people over the course
of a hundred years . . . To supplant that motivation . . . I cannot but feel that we would be poorer
for it and so would the public we serve; an AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987,
p. 46), fairness (e.g. ‘We want to treat similar cases alike’), and promise (e.g. ‘We will
honour our commitments’) to inspire and reassure. Or rhetoric may be aimed at build-
ing on limited existing legitimacy (Suchman, 1995, p. 574) by arguments of com-
mitment (e.g. ‘We are so far down the road that we mustn’t give up now’) and part-in-whole
(e.g. ‘I took our plan to AT&T. Their response was “How about going the next step and
    599

getting the whole organization focused on marketing?”’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger
et al., 1987, p. 64). Typical actions to increase legitimacy include standardizing
(Suchman, 1995, p. 592), embedding (Suchman, 1995, p. 588), and sector and
coalition building (Suchman, 1995, p. 586). When the result of legitimacy without
power is responsibility without power, and when the project is unsuccessful, then
the rhetoric focuses on blaming (‘we’ve built an enormous amount of software, which is
quite conceivably redundant in order for us to fit in to current working practices’; hospital infor-
mation system project manager in Brown, 1998, p. 47). Or the rhetoric may be
aimed at constructing a culture of fatalism and despair (Brown and Jones, 1998)
using arguments of analogy (e.g. ‘Profits were borrowed from the next quarter and at the
end of the year from the next year. It was numbers masturbation. We stroked ourselves until
we felt good . . . We were robbing Peter to pay Paul. It was obvious that we were going to end
up with a sore Peter’; Chrysler executive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981, pp. 104–5),
responsibility (e.g. ‘we seem to have these acceptance testers who say “yes, that’s OK, we’ll
sign this off” and when it gets out . . . they’re just appalled ’; analyst-designer in Brown
and Jones, 1998, p. 83), promise (e.g. ‘you get let down’; senior chief biomedical sci-
entist in Brown and Jones, 1998, p. 81), and fairness (e.g. ‘we are very rarely consulted’;
chief medical scientific officer in Brown and Jones, 1998, p. 82). Or rhetoric may
be aimed at sensemaking (Weick, 1993), explaining and mentoring using argu-
ments of popularity (e.g. ‘This approach is being used by all other similar companies – we
are not the only ones doing this’), comparison (e.g. ‘keep in line with market changes’; Johnson,
1988, p. 79), and hierarchy (e.g. ‘Finance is more important than production in this
company’). Or rhetoric may be aimed at downwards reassurance (Edelman, 1966)
using arguments of fairness (e.g. ‘This pay anomaly must be put right’), reciprocity (e.g.
‘We can’t consider your promotion until you have delivered ’), promise (e.g. ‘Yet we can also be
confident that for some years to come, we will not witness another restructuring of this magni-
tude. Our new structure will flourish . . .’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987,
p. 61). Commitment (e.g. ‘I am firmly committed to meeting the target, come what may’),
invitation (e.g. ‘There is no “master plan” on file . . . All of you will be kept informed as the
planning takes shape. And many of you will have important roles in shaping various aspects of
it’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 161), or precedent (e.g. ‘This
company has always looked after its workers’).
When the stakeholder arguer possesses both power and legitimacy (but lacks
urgency) the rhetoric will either be aimed at establishing a common set of values
(a dispositional similarity within the organization – Suchman, 1995, p. 578) using
arguments of authority (e.g. ‘The CEO has set rules for this’) or example (e.g. ‘The
typical shareholder is female, 70 years old, and had inherited stock for its dividend income . . .
My favourite story concerns one of those owners in Los Angeles who at one point owned 8 million
shares’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 209), using symbolic actions
which professionalize (Suchman, 1995, p. 592) or else at establishing a new struc-
ture or procedure (Suchman, 1995, pp. 580–1) using precedent (e.g. ‘This method
has proved successful in the past’) and means-to-an-end (e.g. ‘We’re trying as best we can
to adopt [some] standard language wherever its appropriate for our reports [means]. Just to
help [the auditor] out a little bit’; ‘Darlene’ in Katz, 1998, p. 430) or symbolic actions
which certificate (Suchman, 1995, p. 590), regulate, or formalize (Suchman, 1995,
p. 589).
When the stakeholder arguer possesses both power and urgency (but lacks legit-
imacy) the rhetoric may be aimed at coercion (Etzioni, 1988) using deterrence (e.g.
‘Do this or else . . .’), or warning (e.g. ‘If you don’t act, the firm will fail’), or threat (e.g.
600 . . . 

‘I can make things very uncomfortable for you’) or using symbolic actions such as repri-
manding, dismissal, or a strike. Or the rhetoric may be aimed at establishing
control using responsibility (e.g. ‘You will be to blame if things go wrong’), quantitative
difference (e.g. ‘unless its over a certain size it won’t do any better’; retailing industry exec-
utive in Johnson, 1988, p. 82) or sacrifice (e.g. ‘I will only be impressed when I see you
working at the weekend to get this report finished’) or means-to-an-end (e.g. ‘it was becom-
ing more competitive . . . I had developed a plan [means] for a straight line marketing approach
. . .’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 64).
When the stakeholder arguer possesses both legitimacy and urgency (but lacks
power) the rhetoric may be motivated by a dependency relationship and therefore
may be aimed at gaining influence (Suchman, 1995, pp. 587, 578) using arguments
of sacrifice (e.g. ‘I have given all I can to provide high quality client service’) in responding
to clients or in co-opting constituents. Or the rhetoric may be aimed at con-
structing a charismatic presence (Suchman, 1995, p. 581) using arguments of
authority (e.g. ‘I intend to lead this company towards the new opportunities’), example (e.g.
‘The new CEO manned the reception desk one day every month’), promise (e.g. ‘I will ensure
you get the credit you all deserve’) or using symbolic actions such as making a speech
or evangelizing (Suchman, 1995, p. 591). Or the rhetoric may be aimed at giving
recognition using promises as symbolic appeals to gain support (Edelman, 1966)
(e.g. ‘The operating companies’ presidents are the backbone of the Bell System so we’ll listen to
you about the details’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 65). Or the
rhetoric may be aimed at effecting an exchange (Mitchell et al., 1997, p. 859;
Suchman, 1995, p. 578) using argument of reciprocity (e.g. ‘If you get 30 per cent of
the market, you can have the salary increase’) or using a symbolic action such as signing
a contract. Or the rhetoric may be aimed at creating an expectation (Suchman,
1995, p. 858) using argument by scenario (e.g. ‘The thing that worries me now, that could
upset everything in our business, is interest rates going back to 15 and then to 20 per cent. It
would destroy everything’; Chrysler executive in Moritz and Seaman, 1981, p. 327) or
by using symbolic action such as setting goals (e.g. downwardly revised forecasts).
Or the rhetoric may be aimed at reassuring a risk-taker using argument of risk
minimization (e.g. ‘This is the least risky alternative’). Or the rhetoric may be aimed
at ensuring haste (Mitchell et al., 1997) using arguments of scenario (e.g. ‘The long
term forecast is a worsening of demand’), without limit (e.g. ‘We haven’t got unlimited time
to solve this problem’), means-to-an-end (e.g. ‘To avoid any problems we must act quickly’),
warning (e.g. ‘The cash flow problem will bite in two days time’) or exaggeration (Nielsen
and Rao, 1985, p. 523; e.g. ‘You are going the right way to getting us bankrupted’). Or the
rhetoric may be aimed at establishing symbolic ownership (Donaldson and
Preston, 1995; Mitchell et al., 1997, p. 858) using arguments of gain maximiza-
tion (e.g. ‘Here is an opportunity for you’) or dissociation (e.g. ‘We have chosen your team
because the other teams are not really experienced in sales work’) or symbolic actions which
mark boundaries or which create inclusion–exclusion markers. Or the rhetoric
may be aimed at generating sentiment (Mitchell et al., 1997, p. 858) using inclu-
sion rhetoric (e.g. ‘This deadline is something we are all aiming for’).
When the stakeholder arguer possesses legitimacy, power and urgency, then it
may use rhetoric which argues self interest, using arguments of reciprocity (e.g.
‘Funding this project will increase market share which is what you want’), or consequences
(e.g. ‘Allowing independent reorganization to continue risks increasing diversity throughout the
Bell system and a consequent erosion of the unity derived from the historical similarity of struc-
tures’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 34). Also it will use rhetoric
    601

which argues organization–environment fit using authority (e.g. ‘The CEO has sig-
nalled that this type of project is very timely’), consequences (e.g. ‘The project will give us a
toehold in the biotechnology industry’), means-to-an-end (e.g. ‘The old idea was “In a com-
petitive environment, we have learned to check whether that kind of thing [spreading out capital
recovery over 40 years] is really in the interests of the public and ourselves”. That’s going
to mean increased emphasis on financial and analytical skills for all our managers’; AT&T
executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 79), or responsibility (e.g. ‘You have a respon-
sibility to keep an interest in biotechnology’). Also it will use rhetoric which reassures
upwards by using argument of hierarchy and authority (e.g. ‘A learning environment
needs to be encouraged by senior management so [the plant] can safely discuss what really went
right and wrong’; report from organizational development manager to senior man-
agement using ‘safely’ and ‘really’ to signal a need for protection of organizational
experimentation, in O’Connor, 1996, pp. 776–7), congratulation (e.g. ‘[The plant]
should be viewed as a pioneer and continually supported in exploration of new practices, poli-
cies, and systems which will sustain and continuously improve upon the gains achieved to date’;
report from organizational development manager to senior management in
O’Connor, 1995, pp. 776–7). Also it will use rhetoric which reassures downwards
by using arguments of inclusion, promise and deservedness (e.g. ‘I pledge that you
will be informed promptly and on an individual basis about how you will be affected. You deserve
nothing less’; AT&T executive in Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 163). Also it may use
rhetoric which motivates using arguments of commitment (e.g. ‘I am confident that
you can reach that target’), gain maximization (e.g. ‘We can make a killing here’), conse-
quences (e.g. ‘This product is going to become a world beater’), responsibility (e.g. ‘I have
confidence that you should be given the responsibility’), or means-to-an-end (e.g. ‘The easiest
way to getting that promotion is to meet the deadline’).
Proposition 5: The arguer has an influence on the appropriateness
of the rhetorical form of argumentation.
The second element of rhetorical appropriateness concerns the organizational
setting in which the argumentation takes place.
The atmosphere (friendliness, relaxedness, time for reflection) in which argu-
mentation occurs has an influence on the appropriateness of the rhetorical form.
For example, a friendly situation precludes the use of deterrence. If there is enough
time (e.g. in a law court), then a complicated argument is appropriate using stages
(argument in small acceptable pieces). Enough time or seriousness of topic also
allows pedantic argument using deduction and an explicitly syllogistic form to
over-rule the more common, everyday use of enthymene (a ‘truncated syllogism’
which suppresses the premises).
The organizational function also influences the rhetorical forms used in argu-
mentation. A sales or production department will use arguments of quantitative
difference (e.g. ‘We should aim for a target of a thousand more sales’). A finance depart-
ment will use arguments of maximize gain and minimize loss. A project manage-
ment department will use arguments of commitment (e.g. ‘It is too late to abandon
the project’). An administration section will use arguments of authority (e.g. ‘The CEO
says you should do it’), precedent (e.g. ‘The budget should be divided up like last year’), and
hierarchy (e.g. ‘Finance is a more important committee than strategy’). A commercial liti-
gation department will use arguments of deterrence (e.g. ‘All infringements of copy-
602 . . . 

right will be prosecuted’). A religious organization will use arguments of sacrifice (e.g.
‘Faith comes from giving up things we value’), dissociation (e.g. ‘Fundamentalists are not real
Christians’). A market positioning department will use arguments of qualitative dif-
ference (e.g. ‘The product is new, has no competitors, and creates an entirely new market’), dis-
sociation (e.g. ‘The company is not a real market leader’), scenario (e.g. ‘The market will
shrink rapidly’), and analogy (e.g. ‘The enemy have the Press on their side’).
Organizational form has an effect on the appropriateness of the rhetorical form
of argumentation. Hierarchical organizations emphasize the use of rhetorical
forms of authority (e.g. ‘Believe it when it comes from the CEO’), part-in-whole (e.g. ‘We
have a winning company because it is made up of very talented individuals’) and whole-in-
part (e.g. ‘I get a good feeling being part of this organization’). However, such organiza-
tions contain political as well as administrative structures, and so political rhetoric
(such as appeals to fear) are also possible – for example, Fiordo (1991, p. 615) found
that intra-organizational communication contained partisan appeals, threats and
complaints. Project team managers emphasize the use of rhetorical forms of com-
mitment (e.g. ‘We are so far down the road that we should continue’). In markets rhetori-
cal forms of hierarchy (e.g. ‘This is what the market thinks is the best in the range because
it is the most expensive’), and minimization of loss are emphasized. In networks reci-
procity, fairness and trust are used.
Organizations in which there are cultural differences show differences in rhetor-
ical form. For example, a study of UN Security Council debates revealed that US
speakers used a higher number of inductive arguments, soviet speakers used
deductive arguments, and French and Latin American speakers used more analogy
(Glenn et al., 1970, p. 716).
The role (e.g. complacent or supporting) of the significant stakeholder influences
the choice of rhetorical form. A CEO would make an appeal to fear to a com-
placent stakeholder and appeal to pride to a supportive one.
The task also has an impact on the appropriateness of rhetorical forms. For
example, the existence of a deadline increases the relevance of commitment, a
budget increases the relevance of without limit (e.g. ‘We can’t go on spending in this
way without any limit’), choices between alternatives increases the relevance of hier-
archy (e.g. ‘We need to invest more in the more profitable parts of the company’), and making
available information on past cases increases the relevance of precedent.
The organizational setting includes actions and artifacts. For example, the rhetor-
ical form of argument from authority is strengthened by a busy schedule, an office
of secretaries, and a large budget. The rhetorical form of argument of qualitative
difference is strengthened by making visible the categories involved (e.g. by seating
management and trade union representatives on opposite sides of a table) and quan-
titative difference is strengthened by using visible comparisons (e.g. quality assur-
ance officers publicizing departmental league tables). The rhetorical form of
argument of hierarchy is strengthened by visible signs of grades of priority (e.g.
departmental power in larger offices and budgets, individual managers’ power in
speaking time in meetings) and of categorization (e.g. between expansion and sta-
bilization, between product lines, between long and short term projects). The rhetor-
ical form of argument of personal example is strengthened by charisma.
The process of organizational change also has an effect on the appropriateness
of rhetorical forms. The following examples come from a changed approach by
the New York Port Authority to the problem of large numbers of homeless people
crowding its facilities and tarnishing its image (Dutton and Dukerich, 1991). Ini-
    603

tially (1982–84), the argument was that the problem required a policing solution,
which was undermined by arguments of quantitative and qualitative difference:
‘. . . you were able to move them along and get some kind of arrangement with them. But as the
numbers increased, you couldn’t do that [quantitative difference]. And the nature of the people
began to change [qualitative difference] . . .’ (p. 525). Then (1985–86) the argument
(of incompatibility) became that homelessness was a corporate issue, but that the
Port Authority was not in the social service business. The corporate scale of the
issue was emphasized by the embarrassment of seeing homeless people even at
the World Trade Center, the Port Authority’s prestige site, demonstrating that the
problem was without limit: ‘then it began to touch on the heart and soul of the organiza-
tion’ (p. 531). However, denial and dissociation were used to argue that the Port
Authority should not be ‘getting into the social service business’ (p. 532). But the rhetoric
of responsibility (that someone is responsible for every organizational problem)
implied that the problem should be someone else’s responsibility, which led to the
next stage in the argument. Then (1987) the argument (of incompatibility) became
that homelessness is a business problem and a moral issue. The situation was com-
plicated by the repeal of police anti-loitering laws, and the resulting organizational
powerlessness led to the salience of the means-to-an-end rhetoric: ‘It’s not that we
ever arrested people for loitering. But the anti-loitering law’s existence allowed us, without as much
as hoopla, to ask people to move on’ (p. 533). This was the turning point, causing a soft-
ening to a rhetoric of fairness and appeal to pity: ‘when you get 15 degree temperatures
at night, and there’s absolutely nowhere to go. And so we said, well, how are we in good con-
science going to throw them out of this facility?’ (p. 535). Then (1988) the argument (still
using the responsibility rhetoric) became that homelessness was an issue of regional
image (a qualitative difference), and that no one else would deal with it (the argu-
ment of no alternative). The importance of self-presentation to external audiences
made use of analogy: ‘In some ways, like graffiti on the subways, it is both a fact and a symbol
that the environment is out of control’ (p. 537). Qualitative difference and responsibility
continued to dominate: ‘We are going to have to do some things which clearly stretch our
mandate, which commit both dollars and cents beyond what is appropriate, because the agencies
that have this responsibility are just not prepared to act’ (p. 537) (arguing that this is a special
case – reversal of the naturalness rhetoric). In order to motivate identification with
the issue throughout the Port Authority (using the argument of part-in-whole to
argue that each employee derived some of his identity from the Port Authority as
a whole), one facility manager said: ‘And you know, so personally everybody that’s involved
in any aspect of working for the Port Authority is identified with that place and with that issue’
(p. 538). Then (1988–89) the argument became that homelessness was an issue of
regional competitiveness, and that the Port Authority was a quiet advocate, using
rhetoric of promise (advocacy for the homeless), gain maximization (competitive-
ness), and appeal to pride (the Port Authority was doing something for the region).
Because the Port Authority did not want to acquire a social services image, it was
prepared to accept the role of ‘quiet’ advocate (paying significant, unpublicized
sums for drop-in centres).
Another example comes from an analysis of strategic change at AT&T (Fletcher
and Huff, 1990). Initially (before 1977) AT&T used negation, denial and rebuttal,
using the rhetorical form of dissociation of (‘bad’) competition from (‘good’) cor-
porate values of customer service using perjorative adjectives (e.g. ‘selective’ and
‘contrived’ competition; Fletcher and Huff, 1990, p. 176), and competition was per-
ceived to be not true competition (e.g. ‘not competition’; p. 178). After 1977 as AT&T
604 . . . 

increasingly recognized the need for competition, rhetoric was associative – com-
petition was described in an active, future-oriented way as ‘growing’, ‘increasing’, and
‘developing’ (p. 178), and was associated with good values (e.g. ‘benefits of competition’;
p. 177). Then, as AT&T focused on transition issues and putting the past to rest,
dissociation rhetoric was used by AT&T by dissociating its old role in the past tense
(e.g. ‘what once was a regulated monopoly’; p. 178) from its present role. Finally AT&T
used associative rhetoric to identify issues of importance to itself as a competitor
(e.g. ‘requires repricing of products and services’; p. 177) and to associate good values (e.g.
‘strong competition’ and ‘fully competitive’; p. 178) to competition.
Even the stage within a micro-negotiation may affect the appropriateness of
rhetorical form. If one side is using offensive manoeuvres (attacking arguments
or threats) then the other side may use defensive tactics (commitments and self-
supporting arguments) rather than reciprocating in order to avoid cycles of high
conflict and bargaining impasse (Gioia and Sims, 1986). Rebuttal of a challenge
may require abandonment of enthymeme (suppression of premises, etc) and use
of a more explicit and ponderous, syllogistic form. When a deal is struck, it is
appropriate to use explicitly the rhetorical form of reciprocity (e.g. ‘No strikes in
return for 10% more money’).
Also the industry may affect the appropriateness of particular rhetorical forms.
Johnson (1988, p. 79) commented on the low strength of the commitment argu-
ment in the retail industry which is: ‘particularly suited to incremental adjustment, since
there are few fixed costs and assets’.
Proposition 6: Organizational setting has an influence on the
appropriateness of the rhetorical form of argumentation.
The third element of rhetorical appropriateness concerns the organizational audi-
ence which listens to the argumentation.
An audience’s power affects the appropriateness of rhetorical forms (e.g. a pow-
erless audience will be more likely to be persuaded by the fairness justification than
a powerful one, and an audience respectful of power will be influenced by argu-
ment from authority).
An important element which influences the reaction to rhetoric is the organiza-
tional audience’s goals. For example, when the goal is to justify change, then effec-
tive rhetorical forms (among others) are qualitative difference (e.g. ‘The problem
requires us doing something different’), means-to-an-end, and maximize gain. When the
goal is to motivate, some relevant rhetorical forms are commitment (e.g. ‘We have sunk
too much into this to give up now’) and responsibility (e.g. ‘You have got to take charge here –
it is up to you!’). When the goal is to control, rhetorical forms become means-to-an-
end, consequences, and responsibility. When the goal is to show areas of strength
to shareholders, rhetorical forms are gain maximization (e.g. ‘16.7 per cent return on
shareholders’ equity – a respectable return . . .’; Fiol, 1990, p. 242), promise (e.g. ‘plans to
continue its policy of tight monetary control’; Fiol, 1990, p. 243), and means-to-an-end (e.g.
‘prudent money management is the key to good results’; Fiol, 1990, p. 243). When the goal is
to show areas of weakness to shareholders, rhetorical forms are warnings and con-
sequences (e.g. ‘Shortages could markedly reduce output’; Fiol, 1990, p. 243).
Another determinant of the appropriateness of the rhetorical form is an organi-
zational audience’s roles. For example, obstructors rely on deterrence (e.g. ‘If you
    605

want to push this through then you will not get our cooperation’), coercors use incompatibil-
ity (e.g. ‘You are holding other people up’), promises (e.g. ‘I thought we had agreed that you would
do this’), deterrence (e.g. ‘If you do not agree then you will be dismissed’) and consequences
(e.g. ‘If you hold everybody up we will miss the deadline’), sponsors use authority (e.g. ‘The
shareholders do not see any increased value in this acquisition’), commitment (e.g. ‘We are pre-
pared to wait our time’), and promise (e.g. ‘You will be rewarded’). The skilful choice of
rhetorical forms is an important determinant of individual role performance.
A tightly coupled system exhibits coordinated action, generic intersubjectivity
(anyone can ‘run’ a recipe), interlocking routines, and habituated, ‘overlearned’
behaviour patterns (Weick, 1993, p. 80). It ‘inhibits argumentation, not simply because it
shuts down communication but because it degrades the quality of the argumentation through nar-
rowed attention as a result of heightened arousal’ (Weick, 1993, p. 138). Johnson (1988,
p. 85) described the resistance to change built into an internally consistent para-
digm at a retail company: to effect change, one had to attack the notion of bulk
buying, yet that led to incompatibility with the company policy of centralized cost
control, and so on. Another appropriate rhetorical form in such circumstances is
the argument that there is no alternative (Ribak, 1994, p. 212).
Proposition 7: The organizational audience has an influence on the
appropriateness of the rhetorical form of argumentation.
The context and integration of argumentation elements affect the strength of
argument as is shown in the following section.
   
Form (arguments of commitment fairness, etc) and content (relevance, sim-
plicity, etc) both affect argument strength. Their best combination is influenced
by context. Following procedures justifies a rational use of argument of fairness.
Sticking to a project’s target and not being sidetracked by politics justifies a simple
argument of commitment. To stay with the status quo, one uses familiar argu-
ments which emphasize interlocked, difficult to change, chains of causation.
Proposition 8: Form and content affect argument strength in a
mutually reinforcing manner.
Integration of the different argumentation elements of arguer, setting, audience
and topic has its own effect upon the strength of argumentation.
Simply rearranging the order in which arguments are presented has been found
to have little effect on strength of argument and believability (Gilkinson et al.,
1954). Topic and arguer are linked by the credibility of the arguer: it is known
that high-credibility introductions (e.g. ‘a nuclear scientist has said this . . .’) generally
lead the audience to regard them as more credible and trustworthy (Hewgill and
Miller, 1965). For the effect to be maximized of course, the topic of the argu-
mentation should be within the arguer’s expertise or experience. One aspect
uniting audience, arguer and topic is that of the effect of liking: when the audi-
606 . . . 

ence likes the arguer, there is a (weak) tendency to believe the arguments the arguer
puts forward (Simons et al., 1970). However, this effect is minimized when the
topic is important to the audience (Chaiken, 1980). An audience will make its own
attempt at integration with the topic: when it agrees only slightly with the argu-
mentation, it will ‘assimilate’ it (transform it into an argument it would agree more
with) or ‘contrast’ it when it disagrees slightly (Sherif et al., 1965, p. 129). For
example, a manager may hope to persuade people to support him, and, having
made this slight commitment, this plus assimilation will be sufficient when the topic
becomes clearer.
One element of integration involves the empathic linking of the arguer with his
audience’s views on the topic. The speaker must show that he sincerely shares or
at least understands the audience’s values by ‘borrowing the addressee’s ideas’ (Forcella,
1991, p. 890). And the purpose or argument itself must be aligned in order to
enable identification to take place (and thus for the arguer to be sympathetically
listened to). This framework has been used to evaluate the effectiveness of rhetoric
in a legal court (Olson and Olson, 1991).
Argumentation is a dynamic process in which actors are constantly changing the
nature of the arguer, setting, audience and topic. Integrating argumentation ele-
ments therefore often means the skilful use of ambiguity in order to enable room
for manoeuvre or freedom for other parties to negotiate. For example, managers at
AT&T (Schlesinger et al., 1987) often referred to goals in a way that emphasized
their ambiguity. Goals were seen as ambiguous because they needed flexibility, due
to their being affected by changing circumstances, altered needs, and different inter-
ests. For example, the Head of Marketing Management at AT&T said ‘When I first
came in 1973, I asked a lot of people about what they meant by “The best possible service at the
lowest possible cost”. Everybody had a different answer, right up to the chairman’ (Schlesinger
et al., 1987, p. 53). Ambiguity is partly a matter of being able to bring conflict into
language by means of explicit contradiction. For example, during the change
process at AT&T, the organization stated it wanted to set earnings goals ‘that are com-
petitive’ (a new concept after the decades of public service ethos of the monopoly
days), and yet it also stated that ‘competition for competition’s sake is not our aim’ (Fletcher
and Huff, 1990, pp. 176–7). The need to use ambiguity to minimize either–or,
dichotomous thinking, and to maximize the range of expressiveness was also evident
in the way in which managers at AT&T dealt with people’s fears for the future. The
intention was often to show that change would not be alarming. Appeals for support
often contrasted emotions in an ambiguous mix of reassurance and warning. For
example, the AT&T Chairman stated that ‘The current structural changes are not the first
in Bell system history [reassurance] but they are probably the most far reaching [warning]’
(Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 61). Similarly, the Head of Marketing Management used
a combination of congratulation and warning: ‘It’s a problem not of creating dedication
but of channelling it [congratulation]. That’s not just a problem for marketing people. No part
of the Bell system will remain untouched [warning]’ (Schlesinger et al., 1987, p. 56). Here
is another example of mixed threat and promise: ‘The journey [our plant] is under-
taking can serve as a role model for [the company]. We do not have to ship our manufacturing
offshore [threat]. Our organization and our people can be a competitive advantage [promise]
that even the Japanese cannot duplicate!’; organizational development manager in O’Con-
nor, 1995, p. 776). Another example of mixed messages concerns responsibility (par-
ticularly for the purpose of establishing blame). One actor may accept (notional)
blame, but seek to excuse himself by means of a more complex, chain-of-actions
    607

model of responsibility: ‘While we have failed to manage effectively [admission, self-
disclosure], yet we blame the laboratory staff for not having “grasped the nettle” [accusation]’;
summary of three informants’ interviews in Brown, 1998, p. 47). Ambiguity there-
fore prevents over-simplification, leaves matters open for negotiation, and creates
flexibility for later position-changing.
Because argumentation is a linguistic practice, actors are not tied to particular
positions and do not always use predictable discourses. It may on occasion (when
it suits) be possible to hear shop floor workers talking about profits and share price
just as if they were senior managers. Equally senior managers may sometimes give
voice to notions of job satisfaction and empowerment. So while on the one hand
it can be possible to consider particular argumentation positions or discourses
as ‘owned’ by particular organizational groups and cultures, individuals may on
occasion find it useful to remain tactically flexible enough to take on different
argumentational positions and will increase their perceived competence and
trustworthiness (Walster et al., 1966) and sincerity and truthfulness (Delia, 1975)
by such counter-attitudinal position taking. Moreover, acquaintance with counter-
arguments is necessary to providing a proper antidote as in two-sided argumenta-
tion (placing one’s preferred position in a stronger light than the opposed view), a
strategy which is more effective than using one-sided arguments ( Jackson and
Allen, 1987). Also skilful arguers may reach an understanding of their opponent’s
position by mentally playing the role of their opponent. The justifications for such
empathic and surprising behaviour would need to spring from a particular setting,
and the limited implications of the reversal might even be explicitly acknowledged
in order to reduce any ‘hostages to fortune’ problem. Watson (1995) has given
an interesting example of two managers moving interchangeably between two
opposed argumentational positions or discourses (one of empowerment, skills and
growth, the other control, costs and jobs).
Proposition 9: The integration of argumentation elements has an
influence on the strength of an argument.
These eight elements and ten propositions are shown in Figure 1.

If one takes the view that talk embodies organizations, argumentation quality is a
sensible way to understand why some organizations thrive and survive while others
perish. This is because it is possible to study, in an unbroken development, the
context-to-appropriateness link, the appropriateness-to-strength link, the strength-
to-decision link, and the decision-to-performance link. This potential is absent in
the literature on managerial cognition, where the link from cognitive structure to
good company performance has not been empirically or theoretically substanti-
ated. Although several recent studies have demonstrated some of the links between
cognition and organizational change, the link between change and good perfor-
mance is missing. Dutton and Dukerich (1991) showed that organization members’
preparedness to effect change was triggered by disparities between their own image
of their organization and that of the public external to the organization. Isabella
608 . . . 

(1990) showed that managerial schemas are flexible (contrary to previous criticisms
of schemas as constraining action) and that they do change in an understandable
way during organizational change. Barr et al. (1992) studied a successful and an
unsuccessful rail company and found that managers in the unsuccessful company
made only one cognitive change, whereas those in the successful company
continued to experiment, learn and adapt. However, Narayan and Fahey (1990)
showed that the managers’ cognitions changed in both an unsuccessful company
(Admiral) as well as a successful company (Zenith). What distinguished success
from failure in that case was not an ability to change but the appropriateness of
the change, about which the authors and the managerial cognition literature were
    609
6. FORM
(e.g. commitment,
fairness, causation,
etc)
7. INTEGRATION
(empathy, ambiguity,
position-switching)
8. STRENGTH
P9
5. CONTENT
(e.g. relevance,
familiarity,
simplicity, etc)
CONTEXT
1. ARGUER (power, values,
unconventionality, preference
for status quo, ideology, interests,
and stakeholder values it is
aligned with)
2. SETTING (rules, allegiances,
setting, culture, environment,
atmosphere, organizational
function and form, role of
significant stakeholders, tasks,
actions and artifacts)
3. AUDIENCE (goals, roles,
coupling, power, legitimacy,
urgency preference for
emotional versus rational
argument)
4. TOPIC (specificity,
complexity, and
seriousness)
P8 P8
P1
P2
P3
P4
P5
P6
P7
Figure 1. Model

able to say little. More generally, the literature on managerial cognition is unable
to bring any normative theory to bear on the problem of linking ‘good’ cognition
to good performance. For example, the hypothesis (advanced by Lyles and
Schwenk, 1992 and Schroder et al., 1967) that firms which have complex and
loosely coupled knowledge structures are more flexible and adaptable has been
met by inconclusive and sometimes contradictory findings (Walsh, 1995, p. 302).
Another suggested hypothesis is that disastrous decisions are caused by the deci-
sion making group’s having ‘skewed its understanding of its information world in such a
way that it was blind to certain aspects’ (Walsh, 1995, p. 293), a conjecture which is
difficult, if not impossible, to test empirically, since blind spots are always easy to
see after the event, but notoriously difficult to predict (and the argument that a
blind spot is an error which causes a disaster is, of course, circular).
The literature on managerial cognition views social cognition as a simplistic
aggregation process: ‘. . . work on organizational cognition is in its infancy. The key is to
view organizational cognition as much more than some kind of aggregation of individual cogni-
tive processes’ (Walsh, 1995, p. 304). Argumentation enables us to ask questions about
the process whereby firstly individual cognitions are externalized within the orga-
nization as separate and distinct voices, secondly are compared and scrutinized,
thirdly are transformed into a collective voice (a social cognition) by a process in
which some utterances are accepted and others ignored, and fourthly this social
cognition becomes institutionalized. However, despite the advances that have
occurred in understanding of how managers argue and how this relates to their
cognitions, little is known about the social process in which argumentation take
place.
The rhetorical–argumentational approach introduced here suggests that the
context-to-appropriateness link, the appropriateness-to-strength link, the strength-
to-decision link, and the decision-to-performance link are all empirically amenable
to a careful mixture of quantitative and qualitative analysis. Eventually, the aim
must be to give an empirical answer to the question: what is meant by arguing well
and will this increase business performance? Because appropriateness to context
is a qualitative concept, the social science research methods required to identify
and evaluate argument strength will be mainly qualitative, although it is possible
to envisage how they could be supplemented by quantitative methods (e.g. fre-
quency counts of categories as in Sillince, 1999). One task will be to categorize
contexts, argument types and rhetorical forms as they are observed within orga-
nizations. Another will be to identify methods of evaluating in real world organi-
zations whether an argument has been considered effective, strong, or appropriate,
and whether these epithets are synonymous. Several examples have been indicated
above of the first link (context-to-appropriateness). This needs to be more sys-
tematically investigated by using coding schemes and seeking for regularities of
occurrence of different types of rhetorical form and different argumentation
dimensions across different organizational contexts. The second link
(appropriateness-to-strength) requires empirical research on a sample of argu-
ments used by insiders to justify particular decisions, noting down the salient
features (as suggested in the model above) of each context investigated within a
restricted range of contexts in order to evaluate those arguments for appropriate-
ness (checking for coder reliability). Such research is impossible using large samples
because large samples would be unable to ensure subjects carefully considered con-
textual differences. The third link (argument strength-to-decision) is fraught with
610 . . . 

A Model Of The Strength And Appropriateness Of Argumentation In Organizational Contexts

A Model Of The Strength And Appropriateness Of Argumentation In Organizational Contexts

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

Similar to A Model Of The Strength And Appropriateness Of Argumentation In Organizational Contexts

Similar to A Model Of The Strength And Appropriateness Of Argumentation In Organizational Contexts (20)

More from Cynthia King

More from Cynthia King (20)

Recently uploaded

Recently uploaded (20)

A Model Of The Strength And Appropriateness Of Argumentation In Organizational Contexts