FR 1165S  FRENCH FILMS / AMERICAN MASKS

Fall 2007 Jean-Jacques Thomas

Lecture n^o 12

©Gary Althen

American Ways

Yarmouth : Intercultural Press,  Inc. 1988.

Ways of Reasoning [pp. 30-34]

To understand how Americans think about things, it is necessary to understand about "the point." Americans mention it often: "Let's get right to the point," they will say. "My point is .... " "What's the point of all this?"
The "point" is the idea or piece of information that Americans presume is, or should be, at the center of people's thinking, writings, and spoken comments. Speakers and writers are supposed to "make their points clear," meaning that they are supposed to say or write explicitly the idea or piece of information they wish to convey.
People from many other cultures have different ideas about the point. Africans traditionally recount stories that convey the thoughts they have in mind, rather than stating "the point" explicitly. Japanese traditionally speak indirectly, leaving the listener to figure out what the point is. Thus, while an American might say to a friend, "I don't think that coat goes very well with the rest of your outfit," a Japanese might say, "Maybe this other coat would look even better than the one you have on." Americans value a person who "gets right to the point." Japanese are likely to consider such a person insensitive if not rude.
The Chinese and Japanese languages are characterized by vagueness and ambiguity. The precision, directness, and clarity Americans associate with "the point" cannot be attained, at least not with any grace, in Chinese and Japanese. Speakers of those languages are thus compelled to learn a new way of reasoning and conveying their ideas if they are going to interact satisfactorily with Americans.

As these examples indicate, different cultures teach different ways of thinking about things, of gathering and weighing evidence, of presenting viewpoints and reaching conclusions. These differences are evident in discussions and arguments, public speeches, and written presentations.
It is not enough to make a point, according to the typical American notion. A responsible speaker or writer is also expected to prove that the point is true, accurate, or valid. As they grow up, Americans learn what is and is not acceptable as "proof." The most important element of a proof is "the facts." A student might state an opinion and the teacher will ask, "What are your facts?" Or, "What data do you have to support that?" The teacher is telling the student that without facts to support the opinion, the opinion will not be considered legitimate or valid.
Americans assume there are "facts" of life, of nature, and of the universe that can be discovered by trained people (usually called "scientists") using special techniques, equipment, and ways of thinking. "Scientific facts," as the Americans call them, are assumed to exist independently of any individual person who studies them or talks about them. This important assumption-that there are facts existing independently of the people who observe them-is not shared throughout the world.
The most reliable facts, in the American view, are those in the form of quantities-specific numbers, percentages, rates, rankings, or amounts. Many foreign visitors in the States are struck-if not stunned-by the quantity of numbers and statistics they encounter in the media and in daily conversations. "McDonald's has sold 8.7 billion hamburgers," say signs all over the country. "Nine out of ten doctors recommend this brand of mouthwash," says a radio announcer or a magazine advertisement. (Doctors are viewed as scientists or appliers of science, and are held in very high esteem.) "The humidity is at 27 per cent," says the television weather reporter. "The barometric pressure is at 29.32 and rising. Yesterday's high temperature in Juneau, Alaska, was 47 degrees."
Americans feel secure in the presence of all these numbers.

Foreign visitors often wonder what significance the numbers could possibly have.
Citing quantifiable facts is generally considered the best way to prove a point. Facts based on personal experience are also persuasive. Americans accept information and ideas that arise from their own experience or that of others they know and trust. Television advertisers seek to capitalize on this aspect of American reasoning through commercials that portray presumably average people (a woman in a kitchen, for example, or two men in an auto repair shop) testifying that in their experience the product or service being advertised is a good one. Other credible testifiers are people dressed to look like scientists or doctors and celebrities from the worlds of entertainment and athletics.
Of the various ways of having personal experience, Americans regard the sense of sight as the most reliable. "I saw it with my own eyes" means that it undoubtedly happened. In a court of law, an "eyewitness" is considered the most reliable source of information. If a speaker has failed to make his purpose in speaking clear, Americans will say, "I don't see the point."
Along with their trust in facts goes a distrust of emotions.
School children are taught (but do not always learn) to disregard the emotional aspects of an argument as they look for "the facts." In their suspicion of emotional statements, Americans differ from many others. Iranians, for example, have a tradition of eloquent, emotion-filled speech. They quote revered poets who have captured the feeling they want to convey. They seek to move their audiences to accept them and their viewpoints not because of the facts they have presented but because of the human feelings they share. A Brazilian graduate student was having difficulty in his English writing class. "It's not just a matter of verbs and nouns," he said. "My teacher tells me I'm too subjective. Too emotional. I must learn to write my points more clearly."
In evaluating the significance of a point or a proof, Americans are most likely to consider its practical usefulness. Americans are famous for their pragmatism, that is, their interest in whether a fact or idea has practical consequences. A good idea is a practical idea. Other adjectives that convey approval of ideas or information are "realistic," "down-to-earth," "hardheaded," and "sensible."
Americans tend to distrust theory and generalizations, which they might label "impractical," "unrealistic," "too abstract," "a lot of hot air," or "just theoretica1." A Latin American graduate student, for example, heard himself being criticized (openly and directly) by the American professor in his international organization class. The student had written a paper concerning a particular international organization and had talked about the principles of national sovereignty, self-determination, and non-interference in the internal affairs of other countries. "That's just pure Latin American bunk," the professor said to him. "That's nothing but words and theory. It has nothing to do with what really happens." The embarrassed student was told to write another paper.
Latin Americans and many Europeans are likely to attach more weight to ideas and theories than Americans are. Rather than compiling facts and statistics on the basis of which to reach conclusions, they are likely to generalize from one theory to another, or from a theory to facts, according to certain rules of logic. A Soviet visitor in Detroit in the 1960s asked his hosts where the masses of unemployed workers were. His hosts said there were no masses of unemployed workers. "There must be," the visitor insisted. "Marx says the capitalist system produces massive unemployment among the workers. You must be hiding them somewhere."
For this visitor, "truth" came not from facts he observed, but from a theory he believed. Americans believe in some theories, of course, but in general they are suspicious of theory and generalizations and more at ease with specific facts.
In some Chinese traditions, truth and understanding come neither from accumulating facts nor generalizing from theories, but from silent meditation. In Zen, truths cannot even be expressed in language. Zen masters do not tell their students what the point is .
Another element of ways of reasoning, beyond considerations about facts and theory as ways of reaching or supporting conclusions, is the matter of cause-and-effect relationships. Americans tend to suppose that most events have some knowable, physical cause. "Things don't just happen," they often say. "Something makes them happen." Very few events are considered to result from "chance" or "luck" or "fate." Religious Americans will ascribe certain kinds of events (such as the otherwise inexplicable death of a child) to "God's will." But these intangible factors are not usually held responsible for what happens to people. As suggested in Chapter One, most Americans have difficulty even comprehending the notion, so prevalent in many other parts of the world, that "fate" deter-' mines what happens in people's lives.
When people with differing ways of reasoning are interacting, the typical feeling they both get is that the other person "just doesn't understand" and "isn't making sense." Each then tries harder to be more "logical," not realizing that the problem is their differing conceptions of what is logical. Foreigners in America will need to learn that Americans will consider them "not logical," "too emotional," or "fuzzy-minded" if they do not use specific facts to support or illustrate their ideas and opinions, if they speak mainly in terms of abstractions and generalizations, or if they attribute important events to non-material causes.
Foreign students have a particular need to learn how Americans think about things and how they organize their thoughts in speech and writing. Unless they do, they will have trouble writing papers or giving speeches that American audiences (including teachers) will take seriously.