Finding ambiguity as a prelude* to critical thinking is fun and relatively easy as long as we examine only those materials containing arguments we dislike.

But to challenge ourselves and our students, select a political speech that you admire as an exercise in identifying ambiguity.  In my case, for example, I might choose Franklin Roosevelt’s call for a 2nd Bill of Rights.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwUL9tJmypI

This clip reveals Roosevelt’s masterful selection of metaphors and frames to propose legislation that was and is quite radical for typical Americans, then and now. Roosevelt was far out front of contemporary marketers and linguists who counsel political parties to select their words based on an understanding of how those words resonate and construct imagery in the minds of typical Americans. See, for example:Frank Luntz, Words that Work and George Leikof, Don’t Think of an Elephant.

However, at each instance when President Roosevelt discusses the objective of particular pieces of legislation, his speech meshes effectiveness with what I can only presume is intentional ambiguity. He knows there are multiple conflicting meanings of those value-laden terms that he uses to herald the needs and objectives for his proposed 2nd Bill of Rights. He also knows that wrapping his political inclinations in certain ambiguities maximizes their emotional credibility (if that construct does not improperly intermix cerebral hemispheres).

Identifying this artfulness in his argument is harder work for me because I embrace his argument. But what a fruitful exercise for our students to watch us struggle with a reluctance to point out how intellectually sloppy the President is being.

*I say “prelude” because the discovery of ambiguity is not by itself a critical thinking move. To transform the discovery of ambiguity into a productive instance of evaluation, we need to suggest alternative definitions that have different dispositive effects on the reasoning.  In other words, if the ambiguity does not alter the meaning of the reasoning, regardless of what form  the ambiguous word or words take, then the ambiguity is more an annoyance than a flaw in the reasoning.

October 5, 2009 was the first day for Justice Sototmayor in the U. S. Supreme Court. Two cases were argued that day before the Court. Justice Sotomayor was very assertive during the arguments.

Several commentators observed that Justice Stomayor asked more questions of the advocates on her first day than Justice Thomas has asked during his entire time on the Supreme Court.

Therefore, __________.

One thing about which we can be relatively certain, most humans will never allow such a fact to just sit.  We will make meaning from that fact. The event occurred, and the result is simply too juicy, too rife with possibility for us to simply observe that one Justice almost never says anything during Court proceedings, and the other will apparently say a lot.

Assumptions will go to work, and soon enough, an inference will appear. I know mine went to work immediately upon hearing the observations of the commentators.  I refuse to think: “indecipherable reality.” I want to place this event into a pattern of meaning, and I will.

Because we have this tendency to infer, and to not be all that careful at times about the quality of the inference, we can almost always upon encountering an inference, issue a CT alert.

When we teach, the temptation to talk while others dutifully listen is overwhelming. The teacher has experience that the students lack in the domain in question. She IS the teacher.

Multiple reasons justify the temptation. The community or someone with the authority to do so has designated one person to have a special role in learning. Someone has been told he or she is THE TEACHER. In addition, teachers understandably feel more in control, more efficient, more responsible when it is they who are active. Teachers see themselves understandably as the movers for the learning, the essential stimulus.

But learning is a participatory sport. At some level, teachers surely appreciate that reality. Even a teacher who performs his function solely as a speaker, lecturer, or demonstrator knows she needs to assign homework or practice activities.

But what if a statement is just a disguised series of questions that were we to ask them, or encourage our students to ask them, would not our fundamental role be to explain the necessity of those questions for deep learning, as well as the creation of a climate in which the fundamental question is regarded with more respect than the self-confident assertion, even when the latter is coming from the mouth of a knowledgeable teacher?
If this approach is generally valid for teaching, it is especially functional for teaching critical thinking. Nothing about critical thinking is natural; in addition, the general culture does not fawn over and elaborately reward those who practice critical thinking. Hence, someone learning critical thinking especially needs to learn the self-censorial skills of asking regular, proficient questions.

One can justifiably make important distinctions among various kinds of questions in terms of their comparative roles and efficacy as facilitators for careful belief formation. But initially, teachers must struggle with their internal demons that tell them that questions are an unwelcome interruption in the smooth flow of their teaching and then provide what will be strange and frightening for many learners—an environment that encourages questions, as a source of wonder and exploration of options.