Guest post by Adedamola Kolawole
Late to the party, but when did I ever care for pressure?
When T handed me a copy of this book, The Art of Argument, I was flattered and elated. Flattered because he told me I was the very first person to own it, and also because I could tell that he valued my opinion about it. Even before I got to open it, I asked if the book discussed the fallacies of logic. He said yes. From that moment, my bias in favour of the book was formed.
(It was from T’s posts circa 2020 that I first learnt about the logical fallacies that present in arguments. He wrote them in series at the time. I dug them all out and compiled them into a pdf file which I would later go back to read or reference whenever I needed to.)
I thought it was brilliant that he dedicated some chapters to treating just that. And really, where better to learn about fallacious arguments, how to identify them, and how to avoid making them than in a book titled “The Art of Argument”? On that basis, it lives up to its name.
TAOA was an interesting addition to my life late last year. Everyone who came in contact with me then got to know about the book, and we sometimes had conversations around it. I went everywhere with it to kill time. To the salon. To church. I read it during my commute to and from work. I read it at work. Lunch break became something to look forward to. A few of my colleagues thought I had a background or interest in Law. Me, I just liked reading anything that made me smarter.
I refrained from commenting about the book till now because, like I learnt from bibliophiles, you never get the full value from a book just by reading it once. If it was worth your first read, then it deserves a second, especially if there were areas that particularly held your interest or raised some unanswered questions.
The first thing I noticed (and genuinely love) about The Art of Argument is how it delivers value across various demographics. It is useful as a study reference for the student of history, philosophy, and linguistics just as it is a great handbook for anyone practicing or interested in any field of human endeavor that thrives on argumentation and persuasion. Even the average Joe is not left out. You only have to not want to fall into the habit of making fatuous arguments on the interweb to covet a copy for yourself.
A little warning for anyone who reads the book, though: Because you will now see through flawed logic and realize how many arguments are dead on arrival, you may find your interest in and patience for conversations around you nosedive. You may also find yourself subconsciously subjected to the mental rigor of sifting through your assertions before making them public.
As I don’t particularly enjoy scholarly texts, I found one or two chapters of the book a bit tedious to read. But I know anyone in related fields would find those sections a treasure trove. Much like me, T is a teacher (not by profession but in the manner, he shares information and imparts knowledge), so I genuinely appreciate the effort he invested in curating histories and references from various disciplines as framework for this discourse that affects our everyday life.
I like how TAOA compels you to pause and think. My favourite moments were times when I’d drop the book to soliloquize, making a case for or against certain arguments. Case in point, Protagoras and his smart student Euathlus, The Rich Guest Paradox, etc.
(I struggled with the author, T’s claim in the Lottery Ticket Paradox, though, as I reached a slightly different conclusion from his. I wonder if it was because of my limited knowledge of statistics.)
Overall, TAOA is an engaging read, and you can always tell that a lot of work went into organizing and sharing the ideas. You should look into copping one for yourself. It’s available on Amazon and Rovingheights bookstores.
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