In planning a course, my mind tends to wander. I think about what it would be like to be in that course, and what it would look like as a failure and as a success. What do students say about it? What can they say? What options do they have after the course in terms of ways of thinking, doing, interacting with society and with other people?
Perhaps these questions are limited to my field of communication, but I’d risk saying that every course should consider these questions as it comes together. Thinking in terms of human action and ability is really a great way to think about how to use that class time when it comes around. Instead of offering up things that are essential elements of the course, or the thing that have to be “in there,” we can think of our course as the presentation of resources that will help the students change their attitude, feelings, or actions in relation to the world.
I’ve never taught legal argumentation before and I don’t have any formal education in the law. My focus in this class is going to help the students realize that any belief, any substantive value that they have in the law or the Constitution of the United States is a construct that is established and maintained by the principles and practices of argumentation and rhetoric. We are persuaded that the Constitution should govern us, and that persuasive work started at ratification and is adaptive and ongoing.
This is in contradiction to what students expect I bet. I think they want to make lawyer-style arguments – the kind they’ve seen on TV – and perform the sort of oratory in the name of justice. This is a great image, but most people who perform such arguments are not lawyers but actors portraying lawyers.
The powerful centerpiece of this course planning, for me, is the desire to get students to appreciate and understand that the reason people have such faith in the Constitution is due to rhetorical argument. It is incredibly flimsy when you think of it that way, but the payoff is that rhetorical argument can constitute other relationships to and with the law, as well as the law itself. This might gain deeper appreciation for the idea that the conversation doesn’t “end” when the “right” has been determined, but the right must be constantly rearticulated and defended in order to have value. To not be able to speak about something and provide reasons that reach others for one’s point of view is not democratic in nature. Repetition is not democratic speech.
So with this in mind, I hope the students are able to find, through the course, a way to consider their opinions and arguments about the law valuable as is, whether they are lawyers or not. Learning how lawyers argue might demystify the authority they have when they realize it’s very limited in scope, limited in ability and for particular purposes. But arguing about the law is everyone’s duty in a democracy. This is much more expansive, normative, and comprehensive I’d say.
So half the class will be about arguing like a lawyer, the other half arguing about the normative status of the law, the function of the law, and the like. That’s the plan so far. I will update my progress as it goes as I think it might be interesting to pull back the curtain a bit on course design, at least my method, in hopes that it starts a conversation about it, or perhaps encourages you to see how easy it would be to design a course for yourself or your friends.