The Stasis Model, Part 1: Different Types of Claims

Consider these statements:

• It is snowing outside.
• Snow is white, cold, and falls from clouds under the right conditions.
• It is snowing really bad.
• We should dig the car out of the snow.

Each of these statements says something about snow, but each one says something different about it, and in doing so, makes different types of claims. When doing more serious writing or research, types of claims convey different information and refer to the stances we take on issues and topics. The Stasis Model is a way to help us know what kinds of claims we’re making and their relationship to one another by identifying four different types of claims. They are:

• Fact: Claims about the existence of something.
• Definition: Claims about the traits, characteristics, and attributes of something.
• Value: Claims about the superiority or inferiority of something.
• Policy: Claims about the action to be taken about something.

You can identify the type of claim something is by asking the following questions:

• Does it exist? Is it a thing?
• What's it like?
• How good/bad/important/unimportant/useful/useless/etc. is it?
• What should be done about/because of it?

So let’s apply these questions to the above claims:

Fact Claim: It is snowing outside.

• Does snow exist? Yes, and for the sake of discussion, let's say there is in fact snow outside, so still yes. Fact claims almost always boil down to either “yes it is” or “no it isn't”. If there was no snow outside, the claim would be false, because there's no snow outside. If the claim was “snow doesn’t exist”, it would still be a Fact claim, and false.
• This does not deal with what snow is like (Definition) or the severity of the snow (Value).

Definition Claim: Snow is white, cold, and falls from clouds under the right conditions.

• What is snow like? Even though the description is vague, it's accurate because these are some of snow’s attributes. Just because it doesn't describe the geometric patterns snow forms, the chemical composition, etc., does not make it an inaccurate description or any other type of claim.
• Fact claims just say whether or not something is. Definition goes into more detail to describe whatever it is. This doesn’t deal with the quality of the snow, just what snow is like.

Value Claim: It is snowing really bad.

• How good is the snow? Apparently, it's bad. This implies degrees of quality: good or bad, better or worse, etc. In our example, the snow is bad (snow that decreases visibility, takes out power, etc) as opposed to snow that is good (creates a snow pack for farmers, good skiing and snowboarding conditions, etc).
• Value claims require Definition and Fact claims; you can't claim snow is good or bad if you don't know what snow is, and you'd have to define just what constitutes good or bad snow.

Policy Claim: We should dig the car out of the snow.

• What should be done about the snow? This goes beyond describing something or judging its quality. Policy addresses the action that should be taken. In this situation, it's digging the car out of the snow.
• We can arrive at this claim because of the corresponding Value claim the snow is “really bad”. Once we determine the Value of something we can act based on the Value we claim it to have. If it's a good or important thing, we should promote, protect, and enable it. If it's a bad thing, we should deter and prevent it.

The Stasis Model gives us tools to better understand and break down our arguments by helping trace our ideas and make sure we understand them. We like to argue Policy and Value all the time, but we can't properly make these claims without understanding the Definition or even the Fact levels of the issue we’re making claims about.

Forced Transitions

Ever been talking with someone and halfway through whatever you’re saying, you remember something else that’s important to the discussion? In conversation, it’s better to interject this point and explain its relevance than to fumble around it, So we stop abruptly and add whatever important detail we need to. It’s awkward and slows the discussion, but we can’t go back and change the conversation to make it fit better.

However, we can go back and make changes in writing. We work to make the final version appear organic, and we’re responsible for fine tuning, revising, and editing to clarify our arguments and eliminate awkward moments. As writers we take the time to develop and maintain a consistent, logical flow, eliminating inelegant breaks to get everything in. One way to do this is through the careful use of transitions.

A transition is a logical move from one topic to another, usually showing up at the beginning or end of a paragraph (where the big shifts in topic happen). Best case scenario, each paragraph will sit side by side in a logical progression, each developing ideas and concepts explored previously. With a strong logical progression, the transitions should occur naturally, resolving whatever issues were presented while moving others along to be addressed in more detail in the next paragraph.

And then there are forced transitions.

This is when paragraphs begin with words like “and”, “another”, and “also” instead of relying on the logical formation of ideas to make the shift. By themselves these are not bad words: they are useful for joining items in lists or signaling additional information, but they do not work for starting paragraphs. They bring the transition to the reader’s attention. It stands and shouts, “I’m going to talk about something else now!”

It can be easy to see how these might be considered good transitions: they indicate a change in topic after all. However, essay format has its own tools to do this, namely, new lines ( with the next line starting with indentations or a blank line between the two). These are to paragraphs what periods are to sentences: periods signal the end of an idea expressed and developed inside its sentence. 

Paragraphs end with a period and with the line, creating a stronger break and a stronger shift in format. It’s smooth and natural, and we’re trained to understand this is how paragraphs work; it is a simple, unobtrusive way to shift ideas. With paragraph structure as a guide, we can easily read from one paragraph to another, the message of “new topic” coming easily without any distracting words getting in the way or unnecessarily complicating it.

Placing a period and hitting enter isn’t enough though: that makes a new paragraph, but it doesn’t preserve the logical flow of ideas. Instead, it’s best to consider the purpose or function of the paragraph in relationship to those around it. In short, there should be a reason for each paragraph to be wherever it is.

Sometimes, I’ll be looking at a draft with a student and I’ll ask why a given paragraph is wherever it is, and there’s no answer because there isn’t a reason for it to be there. If there was a good reason, it would reflect in how the alignment of paragraphs clarifies the ideas and develops one into the other. These problem paragraphs tend to have forced transitions: paragraphs that start with with statements like “Also, it is important to…” or “Another related issue is…” which just derail the argument.

All in all, forced transitions are a symptom of a much larger problem. As I said above, there’s nothing wrong with these words: it’s just they can be used at inappropriate times to compensate for insufficiencies elsewhere in the essay. So, if you catch yourself using forced transitions, take a good look at the paragraph in question and ask yourself what it’s contributing to the essay as a whole. You may write a few new sentences to better show the transition. You may find a better place for it. You may find the essay is better off without it. Either way, the essay will be improved and logic maintained.

Move on to Policy

Imagine looking at what’s playing at a movie theater with some friends. You have a friendly discussion about which movie is worth seeing, discussing the different styles of different directors and actors, maybe even deriding some of the movies and questioning whether or not some of the worst ones can really be called “movies”. Within this discussion, you and your friends will have hit on the first 3 levels of Stasis:

• Fact: Whether or not what’s playing at the theaters can really be called “movies.”
• Definition: Discussing actor and director style.
• Value: Which movie is the best or worth seeing.

And then none of you go see the movie.

This would mean the discussion never rose to Policy because no action was taken: the discussion ended at Value, merely deciding which is best. While there’s nothing wrong with having Fact, Definition, or Value level arguments, there’s only so much these arguments can do. Because they’re not Policy arguments, by definition, very little or nothing at all directly happens because of them.

Policy deals with what to do. Fact, Definition, and Value deal with what or how something is. It's fairly easy to argue these points because we can easily pick them up and leave them behind. Think about an art exhibition:

• Fact: Do I consider what is being exhibited art?
• Definition: What makes it art or not art? Just what is art?
• Value: Is it good art? Which pieces are better or more important?

And these are arguments you could easily have with anyone: friends, family, curators, artists, and even complete strangers. Some discussions may become heated or deeply philosophical, but if they never go beyond Value, it is very easy to just go on as if nothing has happened.

This is where Policy comes in. A Policy level argument focuses on action and change, which requires more attention to audience, implementation, and even considering the repercussions of your actions.

For example, at the art gallery, you have a friendly argument with someone you met and you convince them of the transcendence of a certain piece. Congratulations on your Value level argument. This person then turns to you and asks you to sell them the artwork. But you're in the same position they're in: an observer who came to see the exhibit. If you collect this person's money for this artwork, you'll be guilty of fraud. Instead, you'd have to find out who can sell the artwork (studio or artist) and then purchase it. There could even be a competition for it: a museum could be vying for it, but you want it for your private collection: you have to convince the owner, who may be the studio or the artist but likely not both, that their work is better suited in your collection than in a museum (a Value level argument) so they should sell it to you (Policy level).

Ultimately, this is about recognizing that our decisions, even if they are purely abstract or philosophical, like what constitutes “art” or what art is superior, will reflect itself in our actions and we need to consider the implementation and consequences of those actions. You may decide Artwork A is better than Artwork B, but how could you buy Artwork A? And from there, what happens when you buy Artwork A? Or if you buy Artwork B? How will it impact your life, your home, your social standing? What will happen because other places, like the museum and by extension the general public, won't have access to it?

Policy level arguments require more attention to audience, implementation and repercussions and, whether implicitly or explicitly, involve Fact, Definition and Value level arguments. This is all because Policy focuses on bringing about action. Fact, Definition, and Value level arguments are merely Policy Level arguments waiting to be acted on.