speech situation definition

Want to create or adapt books like this? Learn more about how Pressbooks supports open publishing practices.

Chapter 1: The Speech Communication Process

The Speech Communication Process

Listener(s)

Interference

As you might imagine, the speaker is the crucial first element within the speech communication process. Without a speaker, there is no process. The speaker is simply the person who is delivering, or presenting, the speech. A speaker might be someone who is training employees in your workplace. Your professor is another example of a public speaker as s/he gives a lecture. Even a stand-up comedian can be considered a public speaker. After all, each of these people is presenting an oral message to an audience in a public setting. Most speakers, however, would agree that the listener is one of the primary reasons that they speak.

The listener is just as important as the speaker; neither one is effective without the other. The listener is the person or persons who have assembled to hear the oral message. Some texts might even call several listeners an “audience. ” The listener generally forms an opinion as to the effectiveness of the speaker and the validity of the speaker’s message based on what they see and hear during the presentation. The listener’s job sometimes includes critiquing, or evaluating, the speaker’s style and message. You might be asked to critique your classmates as they speak or to complete an evaluation of a public speaker in another setting. That makes the job of the listener extremely important. Providing constructive feedback to speakers often helps the speaker improve her/his speech tremendously.

Another crucial element in the speech process is the message. The message is what the speaker is discussing or the ideas that s/he is presenting to you as s/he covers a particular topic. The important chapter concepts presented by your professor become the message during a lecture. The commands and steps you need to use, the new software at work, are the message of the trainer as s/he presents the information to your department. The message might be lengthy, such as the President’s State of the Union address, or fairly brief, as in a five-minute presentation given in class.

The channel is the means by which the message is sent or transmitted. Different channels are used to deliver the message, depending on the communication type or context. For instance, in mass communication, the channel utilized might be a television or radio broadcast. The use of a cell phone is an example of a channel that you might use to send a friend a message in interpersonal communication. However, the channel typically used within public speaking is the speaker’s voice, or more specifically, the sound waves used to carry the voice to those listening. You could watch a prerecorded speech or one accessible on YouTube, and you might now say the channel is the television or your computer. This is partially true. However, the speech would still have no value if the speaker’s voice was not present, so in reality, the channel is now a combination of the two -the speaker’s voice broadcast through an electronic source.

The context is a bit more complicated than the other elements we have discussed so far. The context is more than one specific component. For example, when you give a speech in your classroom, the classroom, or the physical location of your speech, is part of the context . That’s probably the easiest part of context to grasp.

But you should also consider that the people in your audience expect you to behave in a certain manner, depending on the physical location or the occasion of the presentation . If you gave a toast at a wedding, the audience wouldn’t be surprised if you told a funny story about the couple or used informal gestures such as a high-five or a slap on the groom’s back. That would be acceptable within the expectations of your audience, given the occasion. However, what if the reason for your speech was the presentation of a eulogy at a loved one’s funeral? Would the audience still find a high-five or humor as acceptable in that setting? Probably not. So the expectations of your audience must be factored into context as well.

The cultural rules -often unwritten and sometimes never formally communicated to us -are also a part of the context. Depending on your culture, you would probably agree that there are some “rules ” typically adhered to by those attending a funeral. In some cultures, mourners wear dark colors and are somber and quiet. In other cultures, grieving out loud or beating one’s chest to show extreme grief is traditional. Therefore, the rules from our culture -no matter what they are -play a part in the context as well.

Every speaker hopes that her/his speech is clearly understood by the audience. However, there are times when some obstacle gets in the way of the message and interferes with the listener’s ability to hear what’s being said. This is interference , or you might have heard it referred to as “noise. ” Every speaker must prepare and present with the assumption that interference is likely to be present in the speaking environment.

Interference can be mental, physical, or physiological. Mental interference occurs when the listener is not fully focused on what s/he is hearing due to her/his own thoughts. If you’ve ever caught yourself daydreaming in class during a lecture, you’re experiencing mental interference. Your own thoughts are getting in the way of the message.

A second form of interference is physical interference . This is noise in the literal sense -someone coughing behind you during a speech or the sound of a mower outside the classroom window. You may be unable to hear the speaker because of the surrounding environmental noises.

The last form of interference is physiological . This type of interference occurs when your body is responsible for the blocked signals. A deaf person, for example, has the truest form of physiological interference; s/he may have varying degrees of difficulty hearing the message. If you’ve ever been in a room that was too cold or too hot and found yourself not paying attention, you’re experiencing physiological interference. Your bodily discomfort distracts from what is happening around you.

The final component within the speech process is feedback. While some might assume that the speaker is the only one who sends a message during a speech, the reality is that the listeners in the audience are sending a message of their own, called feedback . Often this is how the speaker knows if s/he is sending an effective message. Occasionally the feedback from listeners comes in verbal form – questions from the audience or an angry response from a listener about a key point presented. However, in general, feedback during a presentation is typically non-verbal -a student nodding her/his head in agreement or a confused look from an audience member. An observant speaker will scan the audience for these forms of feedback, but keep in mind that non-verbal feedback is often more difficult to spot and to decipher. For example, is a yawn a sign of boredom, or is it simply a tired audience member?

Generally, all of the above elements are present during a speech. However, you might wonder what the process would look like if we used a diagram to illustrate it. Initially, some students think of public speaking as a linear process -the speaker sending a message to the listener -a simple, straight line. But if you’ll think about the components we’ve just covered, you begin to see that a straight line cannot adequately represent the process, when we add listener feedback into the process. The listener is sending her/his own message back to the speaker, so perhaps the process might better be represented as circular. Add in some interference and place the example in context, and you have a more complete idea of the speech process.

Share This Book

What is a Rhetorical Situation?

Using the Power of Language to Persuade, Inform, and Inspire

ThoughtCo / Ran Zheng

An Introduction to Punctuation
Ph.D., Rhetoric and English, University of Georgia
M.A., Modern English and American Literature, University of Leicester
B.A., English, State University of New York

Understanding the use of rhetoric can help you speak convincingly and write persuasively—and vice versa. At its most basic level, rhetoric is defined as communication —whether spoken or written, predetermined or extemporaneous—that’s aimed at getting your intended audience to modify their perspective based on what you’re telling them and how you’re telling it to them.

One of the most common uses of rhetoric we see is in politics. Candidates use carefully crafted language—or messaging—to appeal to their audiences’ emotions and core values in an attempt to sway their vote. However, because the purpose of rhetoric is a form of manipulation , many people have come to equate it with fabrication, with little or no regard to ethical concerns. (There’s an old joke that goes: Q: How do you know when a politician is lying? A: His lips are moving. )

While some rhetoric is certainly far from fact-based, the rhetoric itself is not the issue. Rhetoric is about making the linguistic choices that will have the most impact. The author of the rhetoric is responsible for the veracity of its content, as well as the intent—whether positive or negative—of the outcome he or she is attempting to achieve.

The History of Rhetoric

Probably the most influential pioneer in establishing the art of rhetoric itself was the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle , who defined it as “an ability, in each particular case, to see the available means of persuasion.” His treatise detailing the art of persuasion, “On Rhetoric,” dates from the 4th century BCE. Cicero and Quintilian, two of the most famous Roman teachers of rhetoric, often relied on elements culled from Aristotle’s precepts in their own work.

Aristotle explained how rhetoric functions using five core concepts: logos , ethos , pathos , kairos, and telos and much of rhetoric as we know it today is still based on these principles. In the last few centuries, the definition of “rhetoric” has shifted to encompass pretty much any situation in which people exchange ideas. Because each of us has been informed by a unique set of life circumstances, no two people see things in exactly the same way. Rhetoric has become a way not only to persuade but to use language in an attempt to create mutual understanding and facilitate consensus.

Fast Facts: Aristotle's Five Core Concepts of Rhetoric

Logos: Often translated as “logic or reasoning,” logos originally referred to how a speech was organized and what it contained but is now more about content and structural elements of a text.
Ethos: Ethos translates as “credibility or trustworthiness,” and refers to the character a speaker or author and how they portray themselves through words.
Pathos: Pathos is the element of language designed to play to the emotional sensibilities of an intended audience, and geared toward using the audience’s own attitudes to incite agreement or action.
Telos: Telos refers to the particular purpose a speaker or author hopes to achieve, even though the goals and attitude of the speaker may differ vastly from those of his or her audience.
Kairos: Loosely translated, kairos means “setting” and deals with the time and place that a speech takes place and how that setting may influence its outcome.

Elements of a Rhetorical Situation

What exactly is a rhetorical situation ? An impassioned love letter, a prosecutor's closing statement, an advertisement hawking the next needful thing you can't possibly live without—are all examples of rhetorical situations. As different as their content and intent may be, all of them have the same five basic underlying principles:

The text , which is the actual communication, whether written or spoken
The author , which is the person who creates a specific communication
The audience , who is the recipient of a communication
The purpose(s) , which are the various reasons for authors and audiences to engage in communication
The setting , which is the time, place, and environment that surrounds a particular communication

Each of these elements has an impact on the eventual outcome of any rhetorical situation. If a speech is poorly written, it may be impossible to persuade the audience of its validity or worth, or if its author lacks credibility or passion the result may be the same. On the other hand, even the most eloquent speaker can fail to move an audience that is firmly set in a belief system that directly contradicts the goal the author hopes to achieve and is unwilling to entertain another point of view. Finally, as the saying implies, "timing is everything." The when, where, and prevailing mood surrounding a rhetorical situation can greatly influence its eventual outcome.

While the most commonly accepted definition of a text is a written document, when it comes to rhetorical situations, a text can take on any form of communication a person intentionally creates. If you think of communication in terms of a road trip, the text is the vehicle that gets you to your desired destination—depending on the driving conditions and whether or not you have enough fuel to go the distance. There are three basic factors that have the biggest influence on the nature of any given text: the medium in which it’s delivered, the tools that are used to create it, and the tools required to decipher it:

The Medium —Rhetorical texts can take the form of pretty much any and every kind of media that people use to communicate. A text can be a hand-written love poem; a cover letter that’s typed, or a personal dating profile that’s computer-generated. Text can encompass works in the audio, visual, spoken-word, verbal, non-verbal, graphic, pictorial, and tactile realms, to name but a few. Text can take the form of a magazine ad, a PowerPoint presentation, a satirical cartoon, a film, a painting, a sculpture, a podcast, or even your latest Facebook post, Twitter tweet, or Pinterest pin.
The Author’s Toolkit (Creating) —The tools required to author any form of text impact its structure and content. From the very rudimentary anatomical tools humans use to produce speech (lips, mouth, teeth, tongue, and so forth) to the latest high-tech gadget, the tools we choose to create our communication can help make or break the final outcome.
Audience Connectivity (Deciphering) —Just as an author requires tools to create, an audience must have the capability to receive and understand the information that a text communicates, whether via reading, viewing, hearing, or other forms of sensory input. Again, these tools can range from something as simple as eyes to see or ears to hear to something as complex as sophisticated as an electron microscope. In addition to physical tools, an audience often requires conceptual or intellectual tools to fully comprehend the meaning of a text. For instance, while the French national anthem, “La Marseillaise,” may be a rousing song on its musical merits alone, if you don’t speak French, the meaning and importance of the lyrics are lost.

Loosely speaking, an author is a person who creates text to communicate. Novelists, poets, copywriters, speechwriters, singer/songwriters, and graffiti artists are all authors. Each author is influenced by his or her individual background. Factors such as age, gender identification, geographic location, ethnicity, culture, religion, socio-economic condition, political beliefs, parental pressure, peer involvement, education, and personal experience create the assumptions authors use to see the world, as well as the way in which they communicate to an audience and the setting in which they are likely to do so.

The Audience

The audience is the recipient of the communication. The same factors that influence an author also influence an audience, whether that audience is a single person or a stadium crowd, the audience’s personal experiences affect how they receive communication, especially with regard to the assumptions they may make about the author, and the context in which they receive the communication.

There are as many reasons to communicate messages as there are authors creating them and audiences who may or may not wish to receive them, however, authors and audiences bring their own individual purposes to any given rhetorical situation. These purposes may be conflicting or complementary.

The authors’ purpose in communicating is generally to inform, to instruct, or to persuade. Some other author goals may include to entertain, startle, excite, sadden, enlighten, punish, console, or inspire the intended audience. The purpose of the audience to become informed, to be entertained, to form a different understanding, or to be inspired. Other audience takeaways may include excitement, consolation, anger, sadness, remorse, and so on.

As with purpose, the attitude of both the author and the audience can have a direct impact on the outcome of any rhetorical situation. Is the author rude and condescending, or funny and inclusive? Does he or she appear knowledgeable on the subject on which they’re speaking, or are they totally out of their depth? Factors such as these ultimately govern whether or not the audience understands, accepts, or appreciates the author’s text.

Likewise, audiences bring their own attitudes to the communication experience. If the communication is undecipherable, boring, or of a subject that holds no interest, the audience will likely not appreciate it. If it’s something to which they are attuned or piques their curiosity, the author’s message may be well received.

Every rhetorical situation happens in a specific setting within a specific context, and are all constrained by the time and environment in which they occur. Time, as in a specific moment in history, forms the zeitgeist of an era. Language is directly affected by both historical influence and the assumptions brought to bear by the current culture in which it exists. Theoretically, Stephen Hawking and Sir Isaac Newton could have had a fascinating conversation on the galaxy, however, the lexicon of scientific information available to each during his lifetime would likely have influenced the conclusions they reached as a result.

The specific place that an author engages his or her audience also affects the manner in which a text is both created and received. Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I have a Dream” speech, delivered to a rapt crowd on August 28, 1963, is considered by many as one of the most memorable pieces of American rhetoric of the 20 th century, but a setting doesn’t have to be public, or an audience large for communication to have a profound impact. Intimate settings, in which information is exchanged, such as a doctor’s office or promises are made—perhaps on a moonlit balcony—can serve as the backdrop for life-changing communication.

In some rhetorical contexts, the term “community” refers to a specific group united by like interests or concerns rather than a geographical neighborhood. Conversation, which most often refers to a dialog between a limited number of people takes on a much broader meaning to and refers to a collective conversation which encompasses a broad understanding, belief system, or assumptions that are held by the community at large.

Constraints: Definition and Examples in Rhetoric
Audience Analysis in Speech and Composition
Exigence in Rhetoric
An Overview of Classical Rhetoric
The Implied Audience
Rhetorical Analysis Definition and Examples
What Is a Message in Communication?
Rhetoric: Definitions and Observations
Definition of Audience
Word Choice in English Composition and Literature
Situated Ethos in Rhetoric
The Meaning of Rhetor
Use Social Media to Teach Ethos, Pathos and Logos
Definition and Examples of Paragraphing in Essays
Common Ground in Rhetoric
Definition and Examples of Rhetorical Stance

Ai, ethics & human agency, collaboration, information literacy, writing process, rhetorical situation.

The rhetorical situation refers to the contextual variables (e.g. audience , purpose , and topic ) that influence composing and interpretation . Learn how to engage in rhetorical analysis of your rhetorical situation so you can create texts that your readers find to be clear and cogent, even if they don't necessarily agree with your argument , thesis , research question or hypothesis.

What is the Rhetorical Situation?

The rhetorical situation refers to

Exigence — the driving force behind the call to write or speak. It’s the situation that prompts the need for communication , urging the speaker or writer to use discourse to respond to a particular matter
Audience — the specific individuals or groups (aka discourse communities) to whom the discourse is directed
Constraints — the effects of rhetorical affordances and constraints on communication, composing and style

The Rhetorical Situation may also be called occasion; rhetorical situation ; rhetorical occasion ; situational constraints; the spin room; the no-spin room, the communication situation.

Rhetorical Situations are sometimes described as formal, semi-formal, or informal. They may also be described as home-based, school-based, or work-based .

Related Concepts: Epistemology ; Rhetoric ; Rhetorical Analysis ; Rhetorical Stance

We are always situated, in situations, in the world, in a context, living in a certain way with others, trying to achieve this and avoid that. Eugene Gendlin, p.2

Why Does the Rhetorical Situation Matter?

Writers, speakers, and knowledge workers . . . need a robust understanding of the rhetorical situation in order to respond appropriately to an exigency , a call for discourse.

Having “rhetorical knowledge” and being able to In order to determine the available means of persuasion., successful communicators analyze their rhetorical situation .

Rhetorical Theory has been a major subject of study and conversation among writers and speakers since the 5th century BCE, when sophists taught persuasive techniques to young aristocrats who hoped to succeed in legal and political arenas. Rhetorical theories provide insights into ways writers and speakers can craft their messages so they are persuasive.

Rhetorical theory has had a profound impact on writing instruction in the U.S. The CWPA (Council of Writing Program Administrators) defines rhetorical knowledge as a foundational competency in college-level writing:

“The assertion that writing is “rhetorical” means that writing is always shaped by a combination of the purposes and expectations of writers and readers and the uses that writing serves in specific contexts. To be rhetorically sensitive, good writers must be flexible. They should be able to pursue their purposes by consciously adapting their writing both to the contexts in which it will be read and to the expectations, knowledge, experiences, values, and beliefs of their readers. They also must understand how to take advantage of the opportunities with which they are presented and to address the constraints they encounter as they write. In practice, this means that writers learn to identify what is possible and not possible in diverse writing situations. Writing an email to a friend holds different possibilities for language and form than does writing a lab report for submission to an instructor in a biology class. Instructors emphasize the rhetorical nature of writing by providing writers opportunities to study the expectations, values, and norms associated with writing in specific contexts. This principle is fundamental to the study of writing and writing instruction. It informs all other principles in this document” (Conference 2015).

What is Rhetorical Analysis?

Since antiquity, rhetoricians have exhorted writers and speakers to think deeply and carefully about their audience , purpose , and topic . In the rhetorical tradition, this process—this activity of considering what you want to say, your purpose , and then adjusting what you want to say based on your evaluation of your audience —is called rhetorical analysis .

Rhetorical Analysis begins with a careful consideration of the contextual variables that need to be considered to respond with clarity and persuasion to the communication situation.

Scholarly conversations about what those contextual variables are have evolved over time.

Loyd Bitzer’s Rhetorical Model

In 1968, Loyd Bitzer, a rhetorician, articulated a theoretical model of the rhetorical situation.

Bitzer depicts the rhetorical situation as

“a complex of persons, events, objects, and relations presenting an actual or potential exigence [emphasis added] which can be completely or partially removed if discourse, introduced into the situation, can so constrain human decision or action as to bring about the significant modification of the exigence” (p.9).

Thus, Bitzer imagines the rhetorical situation as a dynamic between three primary forces:

Constraints

For Bitzer, the impetus for writing or speaking is the situation:

“Rhetorical discourse is called into existence by situation” (p. 9).
The situation gives rise to an exigency , which is “an imperfection marked by urgency; it is a defect, an obstacle, something waiting to be done, a thing that is other than it should be” (p. 6)

Moreover, Bitzer argues the situation presumes a response:

“the situation dictates the sorts of observations to be made; it dictates the significant physical and verbal responses. . . .” (p. 5)

Bitzer’s theory of the rhetorical situation, published as the first article in a new academic journal ( Rhetoric and Philosophy ) initiated an academic conversation that is still ongoing. To this day, Bitzer is credited for introducing the concept of exigency and for questioning how constraints — persons, events, objects, and relations –impinge on composing.

Furthermore, Bitzer deserves credit for introducing the notion that writing occurs in a sociocultural context–i.e., that there are rhetorical constraints that exist in the material world that shape how writers and speakers should respond to exigencies, situations.

However, in contemporary Writing Studies (as well as other academic disciplines), Bitzer’s argument that “Rhetorical discourse is called into existence by situation” (p. 9) has been disputed on theoretical and empirical grounds :

Empirical Grounds Bitzer’s model presumes that the writer or speaker lacks agency, that they are merely reactive to situations, that the situation determines whether or not something is translated to discourse/text or not. In contrast to this view, empirical research has found that writers and speakers bring their own agendas and desires to writing situations. When people enter a new rhetorical situation, they have aims/purposes, personalities, literacy histories, past experiences. All of those histories and more shape the their perception of the rhetorical situation, their invention, research, and reasoning processes. Rhetors experience an incessant flow of occasions and problems during their lives. And it is the rhetor who chooses to focus on any one particular rhetorical situation.
linguistic constraints
material constraints (e.g., timing, economics, governments, technology)
ideological constraints (especially gender, class, and race).

The Ecological Model

From the 1980s to 2000s, scholars from across disciplines (e.g., Rhetoric, Writing Studies, Gender Studies, and Philosophy) further problematized models of the rhetorical situation that

implied communication is a simple process of transmitting a message, information, from sender to receiver
portrayed rhetorical situations as “unique, unconnected with other situations” (Cooper, p. 367).
oversimplified ways interpretation is an act of imagination, a social construction.

By the close of the 20th century, thanks to postmodernism , constructivism , and feminism , the discipline of Writing Studies embraced a new theory of the rhetorical situation: the ecological model.

The ecological model conceptualizes the rhetorical situation as composed of a universe of variables that interact with one another, rhetors, and audiences. Thus, rather than conceptualizing the rhetorical situation as a one-to-one dialog between the writer and the writer’s audience, the ecological model attempts to conceptualize the rhetorical situation with greater complexity–i.e., as a milieu of rhetorical elements that occur in a multi-dimensional space.

First introduced to Writing Studies by Greg Myers (1985) and then developed by Marilyn Cooper (1986), the ecological model of the rhetorical situation assumes “writing is an activity through which a person is continually engaged with a variety of socially constituted systems” Cooper p. 367).

“The metaphor for writing suggested by the ecological model is that of a web, in which anything that affects one strand of the web vibrates throughout the whole” (Cooper p, 370).

Rather than debate either the situation invokes the rhetoric or the writer/speaker invokes the rhetoric, the ecological view assumes both the rhetor and the sociocultural context are in dialog, in co-creation with one another:

“all organisms–but especially human beings-are not simply the results but are also the causes of their own environments. . . . While it may be true that at some instant the environment poses a problem or challenge to the organism, in the process of response to that challenge the organism alters the terms of its relation to the outer world and recreates the relevant aspects of that world. The relation between organism and environment is not simply one of interaction of internal and external factors, but of a dialectical development of organism and milieu in response to each other. (Lewontin et al ., p. 275)

The Psychological Model

In psychology, the STEM community, and the learning sciences, investigators explore the role of mindset and personality on interpretation , creativity, and composing .

For example, research has found that people’s mindset about their competencies as writers and public speakers influence how they interact with rhetorical situations. People who hold a growth mindset about their potential as writers and communicators are more likely than people who hold a fixed mindset to engage in rhetorical analysis and rhetorical reasoning . Being preoccupied with negative thoughts when composing makes writing aversive.

Being intellectually open is crucial to putting aside one’s own perspective and living in the shoes of the Other . Being narrow minded about a topic undermines efforts at research, rhetorical analysis and rhetorical reasoning . Being able to engage in metacognition & self-regulation is crucial to successfully navigating rhetorical contexts. We all don’t know what we don’t know. That’s unavoidable, that’s human. However, openness , metacognition and regulation are needed to question how our own experiences and observations shape our interpretations, research methods , and knowledge claims.

So, on the Topic of the Rhetorical Situation, What’s Next?

Moving forward, as bots emerge, as Artificial Intelligence reaches consciousness, technorhetoricians are beginning to explore ways nonhuman elements enter the communication situation and assert agency.

Bitzer, Lloyd. (1968). “The Rhetorical Situation.” Philosophy and Rhetoric 1:1: 1-14.

Gendlin, Eugene T (1978). “Befindlichkeit: Heidegger and the philosophy of psychology” (PDF) . Review of Existential Psychology and Psychiatry . 16 (1–3): 43–71.

Lewontin, R. C., Steven Rose, and Leon J. Kamin. Not in Our Genes: Biology, Ideology, and Human Nature. New York: Pantheon Books, 1984.

Marilyn M. Cooper College English , Vol. 48, No. 4 (Apr., 1986), pp. 364-375

Myers, Greg. “The Social Construction of Two Biologists’ Proposals.” Written Communication 2 (1985): 219-45.

Vatz, Richard (1973). “The Myth of the Rhetorical Situation.” Philosophy & Rhetoric 6:3: 154-161.

Audience Awareness - How To Boost Clarity in Communications

Medium, media.

Occasion, Exigency, Kairos - How to Decode Meaning-Making Practices

Perspective - What is the Role of Perspective in Reading & Writing?

Purpose - Aim of Discourse - Intention

Subject, topic.

Text - Composition

Writer, speaker, knowledge worker . . ., suggested edits.

Please select the purpose of your message. * - Corrections, Typos, or Edits Technical Support/Problems using the site Advertising with Writing Commons Copyright Issues I am contacting you about something else
Your full name
Your email address *
Page URL needing edits *
Name This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

Joseph M. Moxley

If your text doesn’t appeal to your audience, then all is lost. Awareness of your audience (as well as purpose and context) is crucial to clarity in communications. Learn how...

Medium refer to the materials and tools Rhetors use to compose, archive, and convey messages. For 21st Century Writers, messages often have to be remediated in multiple media.

This article explores ‘perspective’ in interpretation, reasoning, and composition. It questions how a reader’s or writer’s background — personal experiences, cultural and academic influences, and their chosen viewpoint — shapes...

What is purpose? How does purpose shape the processes? When composing, how can I best identify and express my purpose?

Learn to analyze the register of a communication situation so you know when you need to code switch. Use register as a measure of audience awareness and clarity in communication....

“Text,” traditionally associated with printed materials, has evolved to encapsulate anything that conveys symbolic meaning – signifying that in the lens of modern semiotics, the world is a text. Texts...

Writers, Speakers, Knowledge Workers . . . are authors. They may also be called called actors, artists, creators, investigators, knowledge makers, researchers, rhetors, senders.

Featured Articles

Student engrossed in reading on her laptop, surrounded by a stack of books

Academic Writing – How to Write for the Academic Community

Professional Writing – How to Write for the Professional World

Credibility & Authority – How to Be Credible & Authoritative in Speech & Writing

school Campus Bookshelves
menu_book Bookshelves
perm_media Learning Objects
login Login
how_to_reg Request Instructor Account
hub Instructor Commons

Margin Size

Download Page (PDF)
Download Full Book (PDF)
Periodic Table
Physics Constants
Scientific Calculator
Reference & Cite
Tools expand_more
Readability

selected template will load here

This action is not available.

3.6: The Speech Communication Process

Last updated
Save as PDF
Page ID 82730

$ \newcommand{\vecs}[1]{\overset { \scriptstyle \rightharpoonup} {\mathbf{#1}} } $

$ \newcommand{\vecd}[1]{\overset{-\!-\!\rightharpoonup}{\vphantom{a}\smash {#1}}} $

$ \newcommand{\id}{\mathrm{id}}$ $ \newcommand{\Span}{\mathrm{span}}$

( \newcommand{\kernel}{\mathrm{null}\,}\) $ \newcommand{\range}{\mathrm{range}\,}$

$ \newcommand{\RealPart}{\mathrm{Re}}$ $ \newcommand{\ImaginaryPart}{\mathrm{Im}}$

$ \newcommand{\Argument}{\mathrm{Arg}}$ $ \newcommand{\norm}[1]{\| #1 \|}$

$ \newcommand{\inner}[2]{\langle #1, #2 \rangle}$

$ \newcommand{\Span}{\mathrm{span}}$

$ \newcommand{\id}{\mathrm{id}}$

$ \newcommand{\kernel}{\mathrm{null}\,}$

$ \newcommand{\range}{\mathrm{range}\,}$

$ \newcommand{\RealPart}{\mathrm{Re}}$

$ \newcommand{\ImaginaryPart}{\mathrm{Im}}$

$ \newcommand{\Argument}{\mathrm{Arg}}$

$ \newcommand{\norm}[1]{\| #1 \|}$

$ \newcommand{\Span}{\mathrm{span}}$ $ \newcommand{\AA}{\unicode[.8,0]{x212B}}$

$ \newcommand{\vectorA}[1]{\vec{#1}} % arrow$

$ \newcommand{\vectorAt}[1]{\vec{\text{#1}}} % arrow$

$ \newcommand{\vectorB}[1]{\overset { \scriptstyle \rightharpoonup} {\mathbf{#1}} } $

$ \newcommand{\vectorC}[1]{\textbf{#1}} $

$ \newcommand{\vectorD}[1]{\overrightarrow{#1}} $

$ \newcommand{\vectorDt}[1]{\overrightarrow{\text{#1}}} $

$ \newcommand{\vectE}[1]{\overset{-\!-\!\rightharpoonup}{\vphantom{a}\smash{\mathbf {#1}}}} $

Most who study the speech communication process agree that there are several critical components present in nearly every speech. We have chosen in this text to label these components using the following terms:

Listener(s)

Interference

Provided by : Florida State College at Jacksonville. License : CC BY: Attribution

What is a Rhetorical Situation? (Definition, Examples, Rules)

What is a rhetorical situation? How does it work? We’ve all heard of things being “rhetorical,” although do we completely understand them? Learn more about a rhetorical situation in this short guide.

What is a rhetorical situation?

A piece of writing or a speech is influenced by its creator’s background, beliefs, interests, and values. Readers interpret the text or speech by considering the circumstances out of which it arises.

The rhetorical situation offers an understanding of how readers and writers relate to each other through the written or spoken medium. It helps writers produce more effective text that meets its intended goals. It allows readers to determine the context in which the writing took place and what the text aims to do.

Let’s look at the rhetorical situation in more detail and use examples for a better grasp of the model.

How do you find the rhetorical situation?

The rhetorical situation is made up of components that impact the development and reception of the text. The components are:

2. Exigence

3. Audience

The author is the individual who creates the text. Readers of the text will consider the author’s authority or experience in the subject on which he/she has written. They will also look at the values the author holds with regard to the subject, and factors that affect the author’s perspectives on the subject.

The exigence describes the urgent need that the author wants to address through the text. The author knows why he/she wants to express certain points and how those points will impact his/her audience.

The audience refers to the people the text aims to persuade, inform, or entertain. Individuals other than the intended recipients of the text are also included in the text’s audience.

Purpose

The purpose describes the aims of the text. Does the writer aim to inform, persuade, or entertain his/her audience? Readers that engage with the text think about the writer’s motivations to create the text and the goals of that text.

Context

The context is made up of all the factors that influence the meaning of the text. The types of context are:

Physical context

The physical settings of authors affect the texts they create. For example, some writers may find they’re able to produce more effective text in bustling coffee shops while others may prefer the solitude of libraries. The specific places in which readers receive the text affect how they respond to the text.

For example, those commuting by train may read a pamphlet in a more leisurely way, which will affect how they feel about its contents. If the same pamphlet were to be handed to them while they were walking, they may engage with it differently.

Social context

The social environment of writers and readers affects how they create and receive a text. Writers and readers belonging to similar communities are more likely to communicate effectively with one another compared to writers or readers belonging to different communities.

Writers may not need to provide a detailed background on a topic when presenting to groups already familiar with the topic. Supporters of a political party will not expect a columnist supporting the rival party to provide a nuanced or unbiased account of a key poll issue.

Cultural context

A documentary set in the sixties will connect more easily with viewers who are intimately familiar with the social behaviors and speech of that era. Millennials may find it hard to understand the colloquial speech and slang of earlier generations.

Readers based in India may find it easier to follow a news article on the issue of dowry deaths than counterparts in the west, where the dowry system has never existed.

The topic is the piece of communication, whether that occurs verbally or in writing.

What is an example of a rhetorical situation?

You’re surrounded by rhetoric . It’s in YouTube videos, newspaper ads, television commercials, billboards, political speeches, literary essays, songs, and graphic novels, to name some.

The examples below highlight the components of the rhetorical situation.

1. Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby delivered the funeral eulogy for Queen Elizabeth II.

The exigence is that it is customary to publicly reflect on a Head of State’s life and achievements
The audience comprises the British public and people from all over the world
The purpose is to highlight the Queen’s life of public service
In the west, it is customary to conduct a eulogy to pay tribute to someone who has died
The topic is the sermon the archbishop delivered at the Queen’s funeral at Westminster Abbey

2. Inaugural address by President Joseph Biden.

The exigence is that it is customary for the elected President of the United States to deliver an inaugural address
The audience is Americans although the inaugural address is shown on all international news channels
The purpose is to share the President’s vision for America and promise to the American people
The inaugural address is part of the customary ceremony to mark the commencement of a new four-year term of the President of the United States.
The topic is the inaugural speech by the President.

Use rhetorical analysis to shape messages and gain a detailed understanding of content

Breaking down the rhetorical situation is helpful for writers, speakers, and content creators. A rhetorical analysis of content is useful to identify the improvements needed to make it more appealing to its audience and meet its goals. As a reader, rhetorical analysis is a tool to effectively understand, critique, or enjoy different types of content. Use this model today to enhance your writing and interpretation skills.

Inside this article

Fact checked: Content is rigorously reviewed by a team of qualified and experienced fact checkers. Fact checkers review articles for factual accuracy, relevance, and timeliness. Learn more.

About the author

Dalia Y.: Dalia is an English Major and linguistics expert with an additional degree in Psychology. Dalia has featured articles on Forbes, Inc, Fast Company, Grammarly, and many more. She covers English, ESL, and all things grammar on GrammarBrain.

Core lessons

Abstract Noun
Accusative Case
Active Sentence
Alliteration
Adjective Clause
Adjective Phrase
Adverbial Clause
Appositive Phrase
Body Paragraph
Compound Adjective
Complex Sentence
Compound Words
Compound Predicate
Common Noun
Comparative Adjective
Comparative and Superlative
Compound Noun
Compound Subject
Compound Sentence
Copular Verb
Collective Noun
Colloquialism
Conciseness
Conditional
Concrete Noun
Conjunction
Conjugation
Conditional Sentence
Comma Splice
Correlative Conjunction
Coordinating Conjunction
Coordinate Adjective
Cumulative Adjective
Dative Case
Declarative Statement
Direct Object Pronoun
Direct Object
Dangling Modifier
Demonstrative Pronoun
Demonstrative Adjective
Direct Characterization
Definite Article
Doublespeak
Equivocation Fallacy
Future Perfect Progressive
Future Simple
Future Perfect Continuous
Future Perfect
First Conditional
Gerund Phrase
Genitive Case
Helping Verb
Irregular Adjective
Irregular Verb
Imperative Sentence
Indefinite Article
Intransitive Verb
Introductory Phrase
Indefinite Pronoun
Indirect Characterization
Interrogative Sentence
Intensive Pronoun
Inanimate Object
Indefinite Tense
Infinitive Phrase
Interjection
Intensifier
Indicative Mood
Juxtaposition
Linking Verb
Misplaced Modifier
Nominative Case
Noun Adjective
Object Pronoun
Object Complement
Order of Adjectives
Parallelism
Prepositional Phrase
Past Simple Tense
Past Continuous Tense
Past Perfect Tense
Past Progressive Tense
Present Simple Tense
Present Perfect Tense
Personal Pronoun
Personification
Persuasive Writing
Parallel Structure
Phrasal Verb
Predicate Adjective
Predicate Nominative
Phonetic Language
Plural Noun
Punctuation
Punctuation Marks
Preposition
Preposition of Place
Parts of Speech
Possessive Adjective
Possessive Determiner
Possessive Case
Possessive Noun
Proper Adjective
Proper Noun
Present Participle
Quotation Marks
Relative Pronoun
Reflexive Pronoun
Reciprocal Pronoun
Subordinating Conjunction
Simple Future Tense
Stative Verb
Subjunctive
Subject Complement
Subject of a Sentence
Sentence Variety
Second Conditional
Superlative Adjective
Slash Symbol
Topic Sentence
Types of Nouns
Types of Sentences
Uncountable Noun
Vowels and Consonants

Popular lessons

Stay awhile. Your weekly dose of grammar and English fun.

The world's best online resource for learning English. Understand words, phrases, slang terms, and all other variations of the English language.

Abbreviations
Editorial Policy

Ace the Presentation

The 5 Different Types of Speech Styles

Human beings have different ways of communicating . No two people speak the same (and nor should they). In fact, if you’ve paid any attention to people’s speeches around you, you might have already noticed that they vary from speaker to speaker, according to the context. Those variations aren’t merely coincidental.

The 5 Different Types of Speech Styles (Table)

Martin Joos, a famous german linguist and professor, was the first one to organize the speeches according to their variations, having come up with five speech styles, depending on their degree of formality:

1. Frozen Style (or Fixed speech)

A speech style is characterized by the use of certain grammar and vocabulary particular to a certain field, one in which the speaker is inserted. The language in this speech style is very formal and static, making it one of the highest forms of speech styles. It’s usually done in a format where the speaker talks and the audience listens without actually being given the space to respond.

Application: It’s generally reserved for formal settings such as important ceremonies (for instance, a ceremony at the royal palace or one in which a country’s president is present), weddings, funerals, etc.

Examples: a presidential speech, an anthem, and a school creed.

2. Formal Style

This style, just like the previous one, is also characterized by a formal (agreed upon and even documented) vocabulary and choice of words, yet it’s more universal as it doesn’t necessarily require expertise in any field and it’s not as rigid as the frozen style.

The language in this speech is respectful and rejects the use of slang, contractions, ellipses and qualifying modal adverbials. Oftentimes the speaker must plan the sentences before delivering them.

Application: Although it’s often used in writing, it also applies to speaking, especially to medium to large-sized groups. It’s also the type of speech that should be used when communicating with strangers and others such as older people, elders, professionals, and figures of authority.

Examples: meetings (corporate or other formal meetings), court, class, interview, speech, or presentation.

3. Consultative Style

The third level of communication it’s a style characterized by a semi-formal vocabulary, often unplanned and reliant on the listener ’s responses and overall participation.

Application: any type of two-way communication, dialogue, whether between two people or more, where there’s no intimacy or any acquaintanceship.

Examples: group discussions, teacher-student communication, expert-apprentice, communication between work colleagues or even between employer-employee, and talking to a stranger.

4. Casual Style (or Informal Style)

As the name says, this style is characterized by its casualty, with a flexible and informal vocabulary that may include slang. It’s usually unplanned, pretty relaxed, and reliant on the fluid back and forth between those involved, without any particular order.

Application: used between people with a sense of familiarity and a relatively close relationship, whether in a group or in a one-on-one scenario.

Examples: chats with friends and family, casual phone calls, or text messages.

5. Intimate Style

This is the speech style that’s reserved for people who have a really close connection. It’s casual and relaxed and goes beyond words, as it incorporates nonverbal communication and even personal language codes, such as terms of endearment and expressions whose meaning are only understood by the participants, besides slang.

Application: used between people who share an intimate bond.

Examples: chats between best friends, boyfriend and girlfriend, siblings and other family members, whether in messages, phone calls, or personally.

Here are some of our top recommended Articles to Check next!

The 4 Methods or Types of Speech Delivery

What Makes a Great Presenter? 9 Key Qualities to Look for!

Types of Speech & Kinds of speech & Types of Speeches

An Easy Guide to All 15 Types of Speech

4 factors that influence speech styles.

Although knowing the definition and some examples of situations in which each speech style might apply is helpful, there are four important factors that are key in speech styles. These factors help the speakers understand when it is appropriate to use one style instead of the other. They are:

1. The Setting

The setting is essentially the context in which the speech shall take place. It’s probably the most important factor to be considered when choosing which speech style to use as nothing could be more harmful than applying the wrong speech style to the wrong setting.

Although it’s a factor that’s exhausted and diverse, to make things simple for you, I’ve divided them in three main categories:

Formal Settings:
Casual Settings:

In these settings, people are more relaxed and less uptight than in formal settings. Since there’s a degree of familiarity between those speaking, even though people are not necessarily intimate, the speaker can apply either consultative or casual speech styles. Some examples of these settings include weddings, company or team meetings, and school classes.

Informal Settings:

These settings are more open than casual ones as there are almost no rules to how people should interact. Everyone in it either has a deep degree of familiarity or intimacy. The styles of speeches that are used in these settings are Casual and Intimate. A few examples of these settings are family and friends gatherings, private conversations, etc.

Misreading the setting can be really embarrassing and have devastating consequences. If, for instance, you make inappropriate jokes in a work meeting or use slang words, you could be perceived as unprofessional and disrespectful, and that could cost you your job.

2. The Participants

Your audience, the people to whom your speech is directed, or the people you interact with are decisive factors when choosing your speech style.

To put it simply:

Reserve Frozen and Formal styles for people whom you respect and are not intimate or even familiar with , either because of their position in society or because of their position in relation to you. These can be authority figures or even superiors in your workplace and strangers.
Use Consultative and Casual speech styles with people who, even though they are familiar to you (either because you both know each other or interact often), still owe them a certain level of respect . These can be people in your workplace such as your colleagues and business partners, people in school, elders and older family members, neighbors, acquaintances and even strangers .
Feel free to use Intimate speech styles with anyone who you share an intimate bond with . These can be your friends and your immediate and extended family members .

3. The Topic

Speech styles can give appropriate weight to serious topics, just as they can help alleviate the heaviness of certain topics. There’s no specific rule of which style to use with each topic, actually, when it comes to topics, the choice should be more intuitive and keep in mind the other factors.

For example, sometimes, when making a presentation about a serious topic at a conference, you might want to mix formal speech with a more consultative or casual speech by sliding in a joke or two in between your presentation, as this helps lighten up the mood.

4. The Purpose of The Discourse or Conversation

The purpose of your discourse is your main motivation for speaking. Just like with the topic, when it comes to choosing the speech style taking into account the purpose, the choice is mostly intuitive and keeps in mind the other factors.

You should remember never to mix a business-centered discussion, where the purpose is mostly professional and formal, with a mainly informal speech of speaking.

Speaker Styles

Content-rich speaker:

A content-rich speaker is one whose aim is to use the speech to inform. He is factual and very objective and focused on providing all the information the audience or receptor of the message needs.

A man speaking in a presentation could be an example of this, or even a lawyer defending a case in court.

Funny or humorous speakers:

As the name already suggests, this type of speaker uses humor as a tool to help them deliver their message. Even when delivering facts, they make jokes to lighten things up and break the tension.

Stand-up comedians are a great example of this type of speaker.

Storyteller:

This type of speaker usually relies on the story format to deliver his message; whether it’s factual or not is not relevant as long as the main message behind the story is relevant to the receptor.

Usually, the type of speaker is not fixed in each speech style; one person can be many types of speakers depending on the speech style that they are using and keeping in mind the factors that influence the choice of the speech style.

Make sure you weigh all factors equally before choosing a speech style. You don’t want to be THAT person bringing up an intimate subject to a friend in front of a group of strangers during a business meeting where the subject has nothing to do with whatever you’re talking about.

What’s The Importance of Speech Styles In Communication

Using and knowing speech styles is the key to effective communication. Choosing the right way to communicate in different settings and with different people is what separates a good communicator from a bad communicator.

Knowing the speech styles and the rules that apply to each of them saves you from embarrassment and positions you as someone of principles and respectful, especially in formal and conservative settings.

Besides that, people tend to gravitate more towards and get influenced by good communicators; therefore, learning something new in that area and improving the quality of your speech and presentations will only benefit you.

Extemporaneous Presentation: Definition and Actionable tips

There are several forms or methods of speech delivery out there and it can be impromptu (with no warning, more improvisation required), or the most common case: extemporaneous presentations. EXTEMPORANEOUS PRESENTATION DEFINITION We need to define this properly and make sure people don’t get confused here. Because from a literal sense extemporaneous and impromptu have…

Why Mastering Public Speaking Skills Will Improve Your Life – 4 Examples.

Public speaking skills are the most important skills for all those who intend to inspire, influence, lead, support and educate others. It’s perhaps the oldest and most respected skill in our history as a species, and that alone tells you how important it is to keep improving your public speaking skills. Public Speaking Skills and…

An Engaging Business presentation? Read This!

You find yourself spending endless hours in tools like Microsoft Teams or Zoom or around a table discussing strategic agendas, busy schedules from beginning to end of the day with conversations about different projects. All this, not infrequently, leaves you exhausted. However, it doesn’t have to be that way! The problem, mind you, is not…

8 Simple Ways to Work out some Self-Confidence to Speak in Public

To have self-confidence is to see the potentialities, even when difficulties or complex challenges arise in the work environment. It’s about transmitting safety and setting an example to others. Even with experience and knowledge, many professionals do not know how to have the self-confidence to speak in public when they need to present themselves before…

How to Create a Mind Map to Organize and Remember your Presentation

Clarity when communicating is one of the essential characteristics of a good oratory. Well-organized speech inspires, informs, convinces, persuades. It is, therefore, necessary to find resources to organize your content, create a logical order between the information and convey a powerful and impactful message. Mind mapping is one of the most efficient content organization techniques….

How to Become a Confident Public Speaker – 6 Tips

Ever wondered what it feels like to command a room filled with people just with the way you speak? How to Become a Confident Public Speaker ? No, it’s not a gift (in case you are wondering); rather, it takes practice and time for you to master the art of public speaking. This simply means…

Want to create or adapt books like this? Learn more about how Pressbooks supports open publishing practices.

11.2 Persuasive Speaking

Learning objectives.

Explain how claims, evidence, and warrants function to create an argument.
Identify strategies for choosing a persuasive speech topic.
Identify strategies for adapting a persuasive speech based on an audience’s orientation to the proposition.
Distinguish among propositions of fact, value, and policy.
Choose an organizational pattern that is fitting for a persuasive speech topic.

We produce and receive persuasive messages daily, but we don’t often stop to think about how we make the arguments we do or the quality of the arguments that we receive. In this section, we’ll learn the components of an argument, how to choose a good persuasive speech topic, and how to adapt and organize a persuasive message.

Foundation of Persuasion

Persuasive speaking seeks to influence the beliefs, attitudes, values, or behaviors of audience members. In order to persuade, a speaker has to construct arguments that appeal to audience members. Arguments form around three components: claim, evidence, and warrant. The claim is the statement that will be supported by evidence. Your thesis statement is the overarching claim for your speech, but you will make other claims within the speech to support the larger thesis. Evidence , also called grounds, supports the claim. The main points of your persuasive speech and the supporting material you include serve as evidence. For example, a speaker may make the following claim: “There should be a national law against texting while driving.” The speaker could then support the claim by providing the following evidence: “Research from the US Department of Transportation has found that texting while driving creates a crash risk that is twenty-three times worse than driving while not distracted.” The warrant is the underlying justification that connects the claim and the evidence. One warrant for the claim and evidence cited in this example is that the US Department of Transportation is an institution that funds research conducted by credible experts. An additional and more implicit warrant is that people shouldn’t do things they know are unsafe.

Figure 11.2 Components of an Argument

The quality of your evidence often impacts the strength of your warrant, and some warrants are stronger than others. A speaker could also provide evidence to support their claim advocating for a national ban on texting and driving by saying, “I have personally seen people almost wreck while trying to text.” While this type of evidence can also be persuasive, it provides a different type and strength of warrant since it is based on personal experience. In general, the anecdotal evidence from personal experience would be given a weaker warrant than the evidence from the national research report. The same process works in our legal system when a judge evaluates the connection between a claim and evidence. If someone steals my car, I could say to the police, “I’m pretty sure Mario did it because when I said hi to him on campus the other day, he didn’t say hi back, which proves he’s mad at me.” A judge faced with that evidence is unlikely to issue a warrant for Mario’s arrest. Fingerprint evidence from the steering wheel that has been matched with a suspect is much more likely to warrant arrest.

As you put together a persuasive argument, you act as the judge. You can evaluate arguments that you come across in your research by analyzing the connection (the warrant) between the claim and the evidence. If the warrant is strong, you may want to highlight that argument in your speech. You may also be able to point out a weak warrant in an argument that goes against your position, which you could then include in your speech. Every argument starts by putting together a claim and evidence, but arguments grow to include many interrelated units.

Choosing a Persuasive Speech Topic

As with any speech, topic selection is important and is influenced by many factors. Good persuasive speech topics are current, controversial, and have important implications for society. If your topic is currently being discussed on television, in newspapers, in the lounges in your dorm, or around your family’s dinner table, then it’s a current topic. A persuasive speech aimed at getting audience members to wear seat belts in cars wouldn’t have much current relevance, given that statistics consistently show that most people wear seat belts. Giving the same speech would have been much more timely in the 1970s when there was a huge movement to increase seat-belt use.

Many topics that are current are also controversial, which is what gets them attention by the media and citizens. Current and controversial topics will be more engaging for your audience. A persuasive speech to encourage audience members to donate blood or recycle wouldn’t be very controversial, since the benefits of both practices are widely agreed on. However, arguing that the restrictions on blood donation by men who have had sexual relations with men be lifted would be controversial. I must caution here that controversial is not the same as inflammatory. An inflammatory topic is one that evokes strong reactions from an audience for the sake of provoking a reaction. Being provocative for no good reason or choosing a topic that is extremist will damage your credibility and prevent you from achieving your speech goals.

You should also choose a topic that is important to you and to society as a whole. As we have already discussed in this book, our voices are powerful, as it is through communication that we participate and make change in society. Therefore we should take seriously opportunities to use our voices to speak publicly. Choosing a speech topic that has implications for society is probably a better application of your public speaking skills than choosing to persuade the audience that Lebron James is the best basketball player in the world or that Superman is a better hero than Spiderman. Although those topics may be very important to you, they don’t carry the same social weight as many other topics you could choose to discuss. Remember that speakers have ethical obligations to the audience and should take the opportunity to speak seriously.

You will also want to choose a topic that connects to your own interests and passions. If you are an education major, it might make more sense to do a persuasive speech about funding for public education than the death penalty. If there are hot-button issues for you that make you get fired up and veins bulge out in your neck, then it may be a good idea to avoid those when speaking in an academic or professional context.

Choose a persuasive speech topic that you’re passionate about but still able to approach and deliver in an ethical manner.

Michael Vadon – Nigel Farage – CC BY-SA 2.0.

Choosing such topics may interfere with your ability to deliver a speech in a competent and ethical manner. You want to care about your topic, but you also want to be able to approach it in a way that’s going to make people want to listen to you. Most people tune out speakers they perceive to be too ideologically entrenched and write them off as extremists or zealots.

You also want to ensure that your topic is actually persuasive. Draft your thesis statement as an “I believe” statement so your stance on an issue is clear. Also, think of your main points as reasons to support your thesis. Students end up with speeches that aren’t very persuasive in nature if they don’t think of their main points as reasons. Identifying arguments that counter your thesis is also a good exercise to help ensure your topic is persuasive. If you can clearly and easily identify a competing thesis statement and supporting reasons, then your topic and approach are arguable.

Review of Tips for Choosing a Persuasive Speech Topic

Not current. People should use seat belts.
Current. People should not text while driving.
Not controversial. People should recycle.
Controversial. Recycling should be mandatory by law.
Not as impactful. Superman is the best superhero.
Impactful. Colleges and universities should adopt zero-tolerance bullying policies.
Unclear thesis. Homeschooling is common in the United States.
Clear, argumentative thesis with stance. Homeschooling does not provide the same benefits of traditional education and should be strictly monitored and limited.

Adapting Persuasive Messages

Competent speakers should consider their audience throughout the speech-making process. Given that persuasive messages seek to directly influence the audience in some way, audience adaptation becomes even more important. If possible, poll your audience to find out their orientation toward your thesis. I read my students’ thesis statements aloud and have the class indicate whether they agree with, disagree with, or are neutral in regards to the proposition. It is unlikely that you will have a homogenous audience, meaning that there will probably be some who agree, some who disagree, and some who are neutral. So you may employ all of the following strategies, in varying degrees, in your persuasive speech.

When you have audience members who already agree with your proposition, you should focus on intensifying their agreement. You can also assume that they have foundational background knowledge of the topic, which means you can take the time to inform them about lesser-known aspects of a topic or cause to further reinforce their agreement. Rather than move these audience members from disagreement to agreement, you can focus on moving them from agreement to action. Remember, calls to action should be as specific as possible to help you capitalize on audience members’ motivation in the moment so they are more likely to follow through on the action.

There are two main reasons audience members may be neutral in regards to your topic: (1) they are uninformed about the topic or (2) they do not think the topic affects them. In this case, you should focus on instilling a concern for the topic. Uninformed audiences may need background information before they can decide if they agree or disagree with your proposition. If the issue is familiar but audience members are neutral because they don’t see how the topic affects them, focus on getting the audience’s attention and demonstrating relevance. Remember that concrete and proxemic supporting materials will help an audience find relevance in a topic. Students who pick narrow or unfamiliar topics will have to work harder to persuade their audience, but neutral audiences often provide the most chance of achieving your speech goal since even a small change may move them into agreement.

When audience members disagree with your proposition, you should focus on changing their minds. To effectively persuade, you must be seen as a credible speaker. When an audience is hostile to your proposition, establishing credibility is even more important, as audience members may be quick to discount or discredit someone who doesn’t appear prepared or doesn’t present well-researched and supported information. Don’t give an audience a chance to write you off before you even get to share your best evidence. When facing a disagreeable audience, the goal should also be small change. You may not be able to switch someone’s position completely, but influencing him or her is still a success. Aside from establishing your credibility, you should also establish common ground with an audience.

Build common ground with disagreeable audiences and acknowledge areas of disagreement.

Chris-Havard Berge – Shaking Hands – CC BY-NC 2.0.

Acknowledging areas of disagreement and logically refuting counterarguments in your speech is also a way to approach persuading an audience in disagreement, as it shows that you are open-minded enough to engage with other perspectives.

Determining Your Proposition

The proposition of your speech is the overall direction of the content and how that relates to the speech goal. A persuasive speech will fall primarily into one of three categories: propositions of fact, value, or policy. A speech may have elements of any of the three propositions, but you can usually determine the overall proposition of a speech from the specific purpose and thesis statements.

Propositions of fact focus on beliefs and try to establish that something “is or isn’t.” Propositions of value focus on persuading audience members that something is “good or bad,” “right or wrong,” or “desirable or undesirable.” Propositions of policy advocate that something “should or shouldn’t” be done. Since most persuasive speech topics can be approached as propositions of fact, value, or policy, it is a good idea to start thinking about what kind of proposition you want to make, as it will influence how you go about your research and writing. As you can see in the following example using the topic of global warming, the type of proposition changes the types of supporting materials you would need:

Proposition of fact. Global warming is caused by increased greenhouse gases related to human activity.
Proposition of value. America’s disproportionately large amount of pollution relative to other countries is wrong .
Proposition of policy. There should be stricter emission restrictions on individual cars.

To support propositions of fact, you would want to present a logical argument based on objective facts that can then be used to build persuasive arguments. Propositions of value may require you to appeal more to your audience’s emotions and cite expert and lay testimony. Persuasive speeches about policy usually require you to research existing and previous laws or procedures and determine if any relevant legislation or propositions are currently being considered.

“Getting Critical”

Persuasion and Masculinity

The traditional view of rhetoric that started in ancient Greece and still informs much of our views on persuasion today has been critiqued for containing Western and masculine biases. Traditional persuasion has been linked to Western and masculine values of domination, competition, and change, which have been critiqued as coercive and violent (Gearhart, 1979).

Communication scholars proposed an alternative to traditional persuasive rhetoric in the form of invitational rhetoric. Invitational rhetoric differs from a traditional view of persuasive rhetoric that “attempts to win over an opponent, or to advocate the correctness of a single position in a very complex issue” (Bone et al., 2008). Instead, invitational rhetoric proposes a model of reaching consensus through dialogue. The goal is to create a climate in which growth and change can occur but isn’t required for one person to “win” an argument over another. Each person in a communication situation is acknowledged to have a standpoint that is valid but can still be influenced through the offering of alternative perspectives and the invitation to engage with and discuss these standpoints (Ryan & Natalle, 2001). Safety, value, and freedom are three important parts of invitational rhetoric. Safety involves a feeling of security in which audience members and speakers feel like their ideas and contributions will not be denigrated. Value refers to the notion that each person in a communication encounter is worthy of recognition and that people are willing to step outside their own perspectives to better understand others. Last, freedom is present in communication when communicators do not limit the thinking or decisions of others, allowing all participants to speak up (Bone et al., 2008).

Invitational rhetoric doesn’t claim that all persuasive rhetoric is violent. Instead, it acknowledges that some persuasion is violent and that the connection between persuasion and violence is worth exploring. Invitational rhetoric has the potential to contribute to the civility of communication in our society. When we are civil, we are capable of engaging with and appreciating different perspectives while still understanding our own. People aren’t attacked or reviled because their views diverge from ours. Rather than reducing the world to “us against them, black or white, and right or wrong,” invitational rhetoric encourages us to acknowledge human perspectives in all their complexity (Bone et al., 2008).

What is your reaction to the claim that persuasion includes Western and masculine biases?
What are some strengths and weaknesses of the proposed alternatives to traditional persuasion?
In what situations might an invitational approach to persuasion be useful? In what situations might you want to rely on traditional models of persuasion?

Organizing a Persuasive Speech

We have already discussed several patterns for organizing your speech, but some organization strategies are specific to persuasive speaking. Some persuasive speech topics lend themselves to a topical organization pattern, which breaks the larger topic up into logical divisions. Earlier, in Chapter 9 “Preparing a Speech” , we discussed recency and primacy, and in this chapter we discussed adapting a persuasive speech based on the audience’s orientation toward the proposition. These concepts can be connected when organizing a persuasive speech topically. Primacy means putting your strongest information first and is based on the idea that audience members put more weight on what they hear first. This strategy can be especially useful when addressing an audience that disagrees with your proposition, as you can try to win them over early. Recency means putting your strongest information last to leave a powerful impression. This can be useful when you are building to a climax in your speech, specifically if you include a call to action.

Putting your strongest argument last can help motivate an audience to action.

Celestine Chua – The Change – CC BY 2.0.

The problem-solution pattern is an organizational pattern that advocates for a particular approach to solve a problem. You would provide evidence to show that a problem exists and then propose a solution with additional evidence or reasoning to justify the course of action. One main point addressing the problem and one main point addressing the solution may be sufficient, but you are not limited to two. You could add a main point between the problem and solution that outlines other solutions that have failed. You can also combine the problem-solution pattern with the cause-effect pattern or expand the speech to fit with Monroe’s Motivated Sequence.

As was mentioned in Chapter 9 “Preparing a Speech” , the cause-effect pattern can be used for informative speaking when the relationship between the cause and effect is not contested. The pattern is more fitting for persuasive speeches when the relationship between the cause and effect is controversial or unclear. There are several ways to use causes and effects to structure a speech. You could have a two-point speech that argues from cause to effect or from effect to cause. You could also have more than one cause that lead to the same effect or a single cause that leads to multiple effects. The following are some examples of thesis statements that correspond to various organizational patterns. As you can see, the same general topic area, prison overcrowding, is used for each example. This illustrates the importance of considering your organizational options early in the speech-making process, since the pattern you choose will influence your researching and writing.

Persuasive Speech Thesis Statements by Organizational Pattern

Problem-solution. Prison overcrowding is a serious problem that we can solve by finding alternative rehabilitation for nonviolent offenders.
Problem–failed solution–proposed solution. Prison overcrowding is a serious problem that shouldn’t be solved by building more prisons; instead, we should support alternative rehabilitation for nonviolent offenders.
Cause-effect. Prisons are overcrowded with nonviolent offenders, which leads to lesser sentences for violent criminals.
Cause-cause-effect. State budgets are being slashed and prisons are overcrowded with nonviolent offenders, which leads to lesser sentences for violent criminals.
Cause-effect-effect. Prisons are overcrowded with nonviolent offenders, which leads to increased behavioral problems among inmates and lesser sentences for violent criminals.
Cause-effect-solution. Prisons are overcrowded with nonviolent offenders, which leads to lesser sentences for violent criminals; therefore we need to find alternative rehabilitation for nonviolent offenders.

Monroe’s Motivated Sequence is an organizational pattern designed for persuasive speaking that appeals to audience members’ needs and motivates them to action. If your persuasive speaking goals include a call to action, you may want to consider this organizational pattern. We already learned about the five steps of Monroe’s Motivated Sequence in Chapter 9 “Preparing a Speech” , but we will review them here with an example:

Hook the audience by making the topic relevant to them.
Imagine living a full life, retiring, and slipping into your golden years. As you get older you become more dependent on others and move into an assisted-living facility. Although you think life will be easier, things get worse as you experience abuse and mistreatment from the staff. You report the abuse to a nurse and wait, but nothing happens and the abuse continues. Elder abuse is a common occurrence, and unlike child abuse, there are no laws in our state that mandate complaints of elder abuse be reported or investigated.
Cite evidence to support the fact that the issue needs to be addressed.
According to the American Psychological Association, one to two million elderly US Americans have been abused by their caretakers. In our state, those in the medical, psychiatric, and social work field are required to report suspicion of child abuse but are not mandated to report suspicions of elder abuse.
Offer a solution and persuade the audience that it is feasible and well thought out.
There should be a federal law mandating that suspicion of elder abuse be reported and that all claims of elder abuse be investigated.
Take the audience beyond your solution and help them visualize the positive results of implementing it or the negative consequences of not.
Elderly people should not have to live in fear during their golden years. A mandatory reporting law for elderly abuse will help ensure that the voices of our elderly loved ones will be heard.
Call your audience to action by giving them concrete steps to follow to engage in a particular action or to change a thought or behavior.
I urge you to take action in two ways. First, raise awareness about this issue by talking to your own friends and family. Second, contact your representatives at the state and national level to let them know that elder abuse should be taken seriously and given the same level of importance as other forms of abuse. I brought cards with the contact information for our state and national representatives for this area. Please take one at the end of my speech. A short e-mail or phone call can help end the silence surrounding elder abuse.

Key Takeaways

Arguments are formed by making claims that are supported by evidence. The underlying justification that connects the claim and evidence is the warrant. Arguments can have strong or weak warrants, which will make them more or less persuasive.
Good persuasive speech topics are current, controversial (but not inflammatory), and important to the speaker and society.
When audience members agree with the proposal, focus on intensifying their agreement and moving them to action.
When audience members are neutral in regards to the proposition, provide background information to better inform them about the issue and present information that demonstrates the relevance of the topic to the audience.
When audience members disagree with the proposal, focus on establishing your credibility, build common ground with the audience, and incorporate counterarguments and refute them.
Propositions of fact focus on establishing that something “is or isn’t” or is “true or false.”
Propositions of value focus on persuading an audience that something is “good or bad,” “right or wrong,” or “desirable or undesirable.”
Propositions of policy advocate that something “should or shouldn’t” be done.
Persuasive speeches can be organized using the following patterns: problem-solution, cause-effect, cause-effect-solution, or Monroe’s Motivated Sequence.
Getting integrated: Give an example of persuasive messages that you might need to create in each of the following contexts: academic, professional, personal, and civic. Then do the same thing for persuasive messages you may receive.
To help ensure that your persuasive speech topic is persuasive and not informative, identify the claims, evidence, and warrants you may use in your argument. In addition, write a thesis statement that refutes your topic idea and identify evidence and warrants that could support that counterargument.
Determine if your speech is primarily a proposition of fact, value, or policy. How can you tell? Identify an organizational pattern that you think will work well for your speech topic, draft one sentence for each of your main points, and arrange them according to the pattern you chose.

Bone, J. E., Cindy L. Griffin, and T. M. Linda Scholz, “Beyond Traditional Conceptualizations of Rhetoric: Invitational Rhetoric and a Move toward Civility,” Western Journal of Communication 72 (2008): 436.

Gearhart, S. M., “The Womanization of Rhetoric,” Women’s Studies International Quarterly 2 (1979): 195–201.

Ryan, K. J., and Elizabeth J. Natalle, “Fusing Horizons: Standpoint Hermenutics and Invitational Rhetoric,” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 31 (2001): 69–90.

Communication in the Real World Copyright © 2016 by University of Minnesota is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License , except where otherwise noted.

Module 6: Organizing and Outlining Your Speech

Methods of speech delivery, learning objectives.

Identify the four types of speech delivery methods and when to use them.

There are four basic methods of speech delivery: manuscript, memorized, impromptu, and extemporaneous. We’ll look at each method and discuss the advantages and disadvantages of each.

George W. Bush’s manuscript page is lightly edited with a pen. It reads “Today our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature. And we responded with the best of America, with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring of strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any small way they could. Immediately following the first attack, I implemented our government’s emergency response plans. Our military is powerful and prepared. Our emergency teams are working in New York City and Washington to help with local rescue efforts. Our first priority is to get help to those who have been injured, and to take every precaution to protect our citizens at home and around the world from further attacks. The functions of our government continue without interruption. Federal agencies in Washington which had to be evacuated today are reopening for essential personnel tonight and will be open to business tomorrow. Our financial institutions remain strong and the American economy will be open for business as well. The search is underway for those who are behind these evil acts. I have directed the full resources of our intelligence and law enforcement communities to find those responsible and bring them to justice. We will make no distinction between the terrorists who committed these acts and those who harbor them.

A manuscript page from President George W. Bush’s address to the nation on the day of the 9/11 attacks in 2001.

A manuscript speech is when the speaker writes down every word they will speak during the speech. When they deliver the speech, they have each word planned and in front of them on the page, much like a newscaster who reads from a teleprompter.

The advantage of using a manuscript is that the speaker has access to every word they’ve prepared in advance. There is no guesswork or memorization needed. This method comforts some speakers’ nerves as they don’t have to worry about that moment where they might freeze and forget what they’ve planned to say. They also are able to make exact quotes from their source material.

When the exact wording of an idea is crucial, speakers often read from a manuscript, for instance in communicating public statements from a company.

However, the disadvantage with a manuscript is that the speakers have MANY words in front of them on the page. This prohibits one of the most important aspects of delivery, eye contact. When many words are on the page, the speakers will find themselves looking down at those words more frequently because they will need the help. If they do look up at the audience, they often cannot find their place when the eye returns to the page. Also, when nerves come into play, speakers with manuscripts often default to reading from the page and forget that they are not making eye contact or engaging their audience. Therefore, manuscript is a very difficult delivery method and not ideal. Above all, the speakers should remember to rehearse with the script so that they practice looking up often.

Public Speaking in History

The fall of the Berlin Wall on November 9, 1989, owed in large part to a momentary error made by an East German government spokesperson. At a live press conference, Günter Schabowski tried to explain new rules relaxing East Germany’s severe travel restrictions. A reporter asked, “when do these new rules go into effect?” Visibly flustered, Schabowski said, “As far as I know, it takes effect immediately, without delay.” In fact, the new visa application procedure was supposed to begin the following day, and with a lot of bureaucracy and red tape. Instead, thousands of East Berliners arrived within minutes at the border crossings, demanding to pass through immediately. The rest is history.

The outcome of this particular public-relations blunder was welcomed by the vast majority of East and West German citizens, and hastened the collapse of communism in Eastern and Central Europe. It’s probably good, then, that Schabowski ran this particular press conference extemporaneously, rather than reading from a manuscript.

You can view the transcript for “The mistake that toppled the Berlin Wall” here (opens in new window) .

A memorized speech is also fully prepared in advance and one in which the speaker does not use any notes. In the case of an occasion speech like a quick toast, a brief dedication, or a short eulogy, word-for-word memorization might make sense. Usually, though, it doesn’t involve committing each and every word to memory, Memorizing a speech isn’t like memorizing a poem where you need to remember every word exactly as written. Don’t memorize a manuscript! Work with your outline instead. Practice with the outline until you can recall the content and order of your main points without effort. Then it’s just a matter of practicing until you’re able to elaborate on your key points in a natural and seamless manner. Ideally, a memorized speech will sound like an off-the-cuff statement by someone who is a really eloquent speaker and an exceptionally organized thinker!

The advantage of a memorized speech is that the speaker can fully face their audience and make lots of eye contact. The problem with a memorized speech is that speakers may get nervous and forget the parts they’ve memorized. Without any notes to lean on, the speaker may hesitate and leave lots of dead air in the room while trying to recall what was planned. Sometimes, the speaker can’t remember or find his or her place in the speech and are forced to go get the notes or go back to the PowerPoint in some capacity to try to trigger his or her memory. This can be an embarrassing and uncomfortable moment for the speaker and the audience, and is a moment which could be easily avoided by using a different speaking method.

How to: memorize a speech

There are lots of tips out there about how to memorize speeches. Here’s one that loosely follows an ancient memorization strategy called the method of loci or “memory palace,” which uses visualizations of familiar spatial environments in order to enhance the recall of information.

You can view the transcript for “How to Memorize a Speech” here (opens in new window) .

An impromptu speech is one for which there is little to no preparation. There is often not a warning even that the person may be asked to speak. For example, your speech teacher may ask you to deliver a speech on your worst pet peeve. You may or may not be given a few minutes to organize your thoughts. What should you do? DO NOT PANIC. Even under pressure, you can create a basic speech that follows the formula of an introduction, body, and conclusion. If you have a few minutes, jot down some notes that fit into each part of the speech. (In fact, the phrase “speaking off the cuff,” which means speaking without preparation, probably refers to the idea that one would jot a few notes on one’s shirt cuff before speaking impromptu.) [1] ) An introduction should include an attention getter, introduction of the topic, speaker credibility, and forecasting of main points. The body should have two or three main points. The conclusion should have a summary, call to action, and final thought. If you can organize your thoughts into those three parts, you will sound like a polished speaker. Even if you only hit two of them, it will still help you to think about the speech in those parts. For example, if a speech is being given on a pet peeve of chewed gum being left under desks in classrooms, it might be organized like this.

Introduction : Speaker chews gum loudly and then puts it under a desk (attention getter, demonstration). Speaker introduces themselves and the topic and why they’re qualified to speak on it (topic introduction and credibility). “I’m Katie Smith and I’ve been a student at this school for three years and witnessed this gum problem the entire time.”
Body : Speaker states three main points of why we shouldn’t leave gum on desks: it’s rude, it makes custodians have to work harder, it affects the next student who gets nastiness on their seat (forecast of order). Speaker then discusses those three points
Conclusion : Speaker summarizes those three points (summary, part 1 of conclusion), calls on the audience to pledge to never do this again (call to action), and gives a quote from Michael Jordan about respecting property (final thought).

While an impromptu speech can be challenging, the advantage is that it can also be thrilling as the speaker thinks off the cuff and says what they’re most passionate about in the moment. A speaker should not be afraid to use notes during an impromptu speech if they were given any time to organize their thoughts.

The disadvantage is that there is no time for preparation, so finding research to support claims such as quotes or facts cannot be included. The lack of preparation makes some speakers more nervous and they may struggle to engage the audience due to their nerves.

Extemporaneous

The last method of delivery we’ll look at is extemporaneous. When speaking extemporaneously, speakers prepare some notes in advance that help trigger their memory of what they planned to say. These notes are often placed on notecards. A 4”x6” notecard or 5”x7” size card works well. This size of notecards can be purchased at any office supply store. Speakers should determine what needs to go on each card by reading through their speech notes and giving themselves phrases to say out loud. These notes are not full sentences, but help the speakers, who turn them into a full sentence when spoken aloud. Note that if a quote is being used, listing that quote verbatim is fine.

The advantage of extemporaneous speaking is that the speakers are able to speak in a more conversational tone by letting the cards guide them, but not dictate every word they say. This method allows for the speakers to make more eye contact with the audience. The shorter note forms also prevent speakers from getting lost in their words. Numbering these cards also helps if one gets out of order. Also, these notes are not ones the teacher sees or collects. While you may be required to turn in your speech outline, your extemporaneous notecards are not seen by anyone but you. Therefore, you can also write yourself notes to speak up, slow down, emphasize a point, go to the next slide, etc.

The disadvantage to extemporaneous is the speakers may forget what else was planned to say or find a card to be out of order. This problem can be avoided through rehearsal and double-checking the note order before speaking.

Many speakers consider the extemporaneous method to be the ideal speaking method because it allows them to be prepared, keeps the audience engaged, and makes the speakers more natural in their delivery. In your public speaking class, most of your speeches will probably be delivered extemporaneously.

As per the Oxford English Dictionary' s entry for "Off the Cuff." See an extensive discussion at Mark Liberman's Language Log here: https://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/?p=4130 ↵
Method of loci definition. Provided by : Wikipedia. Located at : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Method_of_loci . License : CC BY-SA: Attribution-ShareAlike
The mistake that toppled the Berlin Wall. Provided by : Vox. Located at : https://youtu.be/Mn4VDwaV-oo . License : Other . License Terms : Standard YouTube License
How to Memorize a Speech. Authored by : Memorize Academy. Located at : https://youtu.be/rvBw__VNrsc . License : Other . License Terms : Standard YouTube License
Address to the Nation. Provided by : U.S. National Archives. Located at : https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2011/09/06/911-an-address-to-the-nation/ . License : Public Domain: No Known Copyright
Methods of Speech Delivery. Authored by : Misti Wills with Lumen Learning. License : CC BY: Attribution

Academia.edu no longer supports Internet Explorer.

To browse Academia.edu and the wider internet faster and more securely, please take a few seconds to upgrade your browser .

Enter the email address you signed up with and we'll email you a reset link.

We're Hiring!
Help Center

The Components of Speech Events and Speech Situation

The use of linguistics has become an important part of the teaching and learning process in and out of the class. It gives knowledge of the rules which controls of language as a system of communication.The speech events are motivating because the contextual factors relation includes. Knowing only grammar is not enough. So language must be appropriate to the condition and contributors. Although people from different social groups interrelate differently, the participants in each group are expected to adopt a specific "way of speaking". The use of language allows one to maintain relationship with other people in an interaction. However, language is a complex phenomenon. In other words, it is not enough just to recognize the meaning of the sentences spoken, but the context of situation and the context of the culture must be tacit, such as it is public or private, formalor informal, whois being spoken, and who might be hear the sentences.By studying sociolinguistics, we can interact politely studying and appropriately in social situations.

Related Papers

LiNGUA: Jurnal Ilmu Bahasa dan Sastra

Syafiyah Syafiyah

Aliran Sociolinguistik sebagai respon dari aliran linguistik yang dipelopori oleh Chomsky memberikan pandangan baru terhadap hakekat bahasa. Menurut aliran ini bahasa tidak dipandang sebagai aturan-aturan gramatikal formal semata, tetapi lebih sebagai alat komunikasi. Memahami bahasa manusia berarti memahami bagaimana manusia berkomunikasi satu sama lain dan bagaimana proses komunikasi terjadi. Memahami hakekat bahasa sama saja dengan memahami bagaimana bahasa itu berfungsi di tengah masyarakat. Menguasai bahasa berarti memiliki kompetensi komunikatif, yaitu kemampuan untuk menggunakan bahasa dengan benar dan tepat sesuai dengan konteks sosial. Kompetensi komunikatif meliputi kompetensi linguistik, kompetensi sosiolinguistik, kompetensi wacana dan kompetensi strategis. Dalam ranah metodologi pembelajaran bahasa, aliran tersebut melahirkan pendekatan pembelajaran bahasa komunikatif )Communicative Approach(. <br />

Ahmad faizin

Pengajaranbahasaberkaitandengansosiolinguistikdalamberbagaicara. Faktorsosial yang berbedamempengaruhipengajarandanpembelajaranbahasa.Tulisaninimengkajihubunganantarasosialinguistikdanpengajaranbahasa.Beberapafaktorsosialsepertisituasikonteks, dan settingsosialmemilikiperandalampembelajaranbahasa.Sosiolinguistikmenjelaskantentangfaktor-faktorutama yang mempengaruhipemilihanlinguisticdanmenjelaskanseberapabaikpengajaransaatinidalammemanfaatkanfaktor-faktortersebut.Sosiolinguistikjugamenelaahberbagaivariasidalampenggunaanbahasayang digunakanoleh orang yang memilikiberbagaikarakter.

Syifa Anindya

Language in Society

Blackfish Tata

Nur Fadhilah bahar

Fitri Fatika Astini

Fitri Fatika

Praise be to the presence of Allah SWT who has given grace and guidance so that we can complete the paper assignment entitled "The relationship between language and social context of society" on time. The aim of writing this paper is to fulfill the assignment of Mam Yuliana S. Pd, M.Pd in the Second Language Acquisition course. Apart from that, this paper also aims to increase insight into Sociolinguistics for readers and writers. We would like to thank Mam Yuliana S.Pd, M.Pd as the Lecturer in the Second Language Acquisition Course who has given us this assignment so that we can increase our knowledge and insight according to the field of study we are studying. We realize that the paper we wrote is still far from perfect. Therefore, we look forward to constructive criticism and suggestions for the perfection of this paper.

Arah Manialung

Saeed Rezaei

Kinh Tế Học

Bibliography

Academic tools.

Friends PDF Preview
Author and Citation Info
Back to Top

Speech Acts

We are attuned in everyday conversation not primarily to the sentences we utter to one another, but to the speech acts that those utterances are used to perform: requests, warnings, invitations, promises, apologies, predictions, and the like. Such acts are staples of communicative life, but only became a topic of sustained investigation, at least in the English-speaking world, in the middle of the twentieth century. [ 1 ] Since that time “speech act theory” has become influential not only within philosophy, but also in linguistics, psychology, legal theory, artificial intelligence, literary theory, and feminist thought among other scholarly disciplines. [ 2 ] Recognition of the significance of speech acts has illuminated the ability of language to do other things than describe reality. In the process the boundaries among the philosophy of language, the philosophy of action, aesthetics, the philosophy of mind, political philosophy, and ethics have become less sharp. In addition, an appreciation of speech acts has helped lay bare a normative structure implicit in linguistic practice, including even that part of this practice concerned with describing reality. Much recent research aims at an accurate characterization of this normative structure underlying linguistic practice.

1. Introduction

2.1 the independence of force and content, 2.2 can saying make it so, 2.3 theories of performativity, 3.1 direction of fit, 3.2 conditions of satisfaction, 3.3 seven components of illocutionary force, 3.4 direct and indirect force, 4.1 force conventionalism, 4.2 a biosemantic species of force conventionalism.

4.3 An Intentionalist Alternative to Force Conventionalism

5.1 Grice’s Account of Speaker Meaning

5.2 objections to grice’s account, 5.3 force as an aspect of speaker meaning, 6.1 speech acts and conversations, 6.2 speech acts and scorekeeping, 7. force-indicators and the logically perfect language, 8. do speech acts have a logic, 9. speech acts and social issues, further reading, other internet resources, related entries.

Bertrand Russell’s Theory of Descriptions was a paradigm for many philosophers in the twentieth century. One reason for this is that it suggested a way to respond to longstanding philosophical problems by showing them to be specious. Russell argued that such sentences as ‘The present King of Singapore is bald,’ and, ‘The round square is impossible,’ possess superficial grammatical forms that are misleading as to their underlying logical structure. In so doing he showed how such sentences can be meaningful without this fact obliging us to posit current Singaporean monarchs or round squares. Many philosophers in what came to be known as the Ordinary Language movement were inspired by this achievement to argue that classic philosophical problems (e.g., of free will, the relation of mind to body, truth, the nature of knowledge, and of right and wrong) likewise rested on a misunderstanding of the language in which these problem are couched. In How to Do Things with Words , J.L. Austin for instance writes,

…in recent years, many things which would once have been accepted without question as ‘statements’ by both philosophers and grammarians have been scrutinized with new care… It has come to be commonly held that many utterances which look like statements are either not intended at all, or only intended in part, to record or impart straightforward information about the facts…Along these lines it has by now been shown piecemeal, or at least made to look likely, that many traditional philosophical perplexities have arisen through a mistake-the mistake of taking as straightforward statements of fact utterances which are either (in interesting non-grammatical ways) nonsensical or else intended as something quite different. Whatever we may think of any particular one of these views and suggestions…it cannot be doubted that they are producing a revolution in philosophy. (Austin 1962, pp. 1–2)

The Ordinary Language movement, with its broad claim that the meaning of an expression should be equated with its use, and its desire to transcend traditional philosophical perplexities, did not achieve the revolution of which Austin speaks. Nonetheless one of its enduring legacies is the notion of a speech act.

One way of appreciating the distinctive features of speech acts is in contrast with other well-established phenomena within the philosophy of language and linguistics. Accordingly in this entry we will consider the relations among speech acts and: semantic content, grammatical mood, speaker-meaning, logically perfect languages, perlocutions, performatives, presuppositions , and implicature . This will enable us to situate speech acts within their ecological niche.

2. Content, Force, and How Saying Can Make It So

Whereas an act of speech is any act of uttering [ 3 ] meaningful words, ‘speech act’ is a term of art. As a first approximation, speech acts are those acts that can (though need not) be performed by saying that one is doing so. On this conception, resigning, promising, asserting and asking are all speech acts, while convincing, insulting and growing six inches are not. One can, for instance, resign by saying, “I resign…”, although one can also resign from a position without describing oneself as doing so. However, this conception is too inclusive, since it also counts whispering as a speech act even though one can whisper a string of nonsense words without meaning anything. Instead a more accurate characterization of speech acts builds on Grice’s notion of speaker meaning. This notion is discussed further in Section 5 below, but for now it is enough to note that in looking at my watch, I might be trying to tell the time; or I might be trying to indicate to you that it’s time for us to leave. The latter (but not the former) is a case of speaker meaning.

Accordingly, a speech act is a type of act that can be performed by speaker meaning that one is doing so. This conception still counts resigning, promising, asserting and asking as speech acts, while ruling out convincing, insulting and whispering. This definition leaves open the possibility of speech acts being performed wordlessly, as well as speech acts being performed without saying that you are doing so. Our characterization of speech acts captures this fact in emphasizing speaker meaning rather than the uttering of any words.

Speech acts are thus also to be distinguished from performatives. ‘Performative’ is another technical term, and as used here it refers in the first instance to a kind of sentence. A performative sentence is in the first person, present tense, indicative mood, active voice, that describes its speaker as performing a speech act. ‘I assert that George is the culprit,’ is a performative sentence by this test. As we have seen, one can perform a speech act without uttering a performative. Further, since it is merely a type of sentence, one can utter a performative without performing a speech act. For instance, while talking in my sleep I might say, “I hereby promise to climb the Eiffel Tower,” without thereby making any promise. We may also define a performative utterance as an utterance of a performative sentence that is also a speech act. [ 4 ]

More nomenclature: ‘Speech act’ and ‘illocution’ will here be used synonymously. The latter term is due to Austin, who used ‘illocutionary force’ to refer to a dimension of communicative acts. (It is nowadays common also to use ‘illocute’ as a verb meaning ‘to perform a speech act.’) Austin’s reason for using ‘force’ begins with the observation that, construed as a bit of observable behavior, the communicative significance of an act may be underdetermined by what has been said or observably done. I bow deeply before you. So far you may not know whether I am paying obeisance, responding to indigestion, or looking for a wayward contact lens. So too, an utterance of a meaningful sentence (which Austin calls a locutionary act ) such as ‘You’ll be more punctual in the future,’ may leave you wondering whether I am making a prediction or issuing a command or even a threat. The colloquial question, “What is the force of those words?” is often used to elicit an answer. In asking such a question we acknowledge a grasp of those words’ meaning but seek to know how that meaning is to be taken–as a threat, as a prediction, or as a command.

Or so it seems. In an early challenge to Austin, Cohen (1964) argues that the notion of illocutionary force is otiose provided we already have in place the notion of a sentence’s meaning (Austin’s locutionary meaning). Cohen contends that for a performative sentence such as ‘I promise to read that novel,’ its meaning already guarantees that it is a promise. On the other hand, for a sentence that is not a performative, such as ‘I will read that novel,’ if it is understood as being used to make a promise, the promise is still implicit in the sentence’s meaning. In either case, Cohen concludes, meaning already guarantees force and so we do not require an extra-semantic notion to do so.

Cohen’s reasoning assumes that any utterance of ‘I promise to read that novel’ is a promise. But as we have seen with the case of the somniloquist, neither a sentence, nor even the utterance of a sentence, is sufficient on its own for the performance of a speech act, be it a promise or some other. In a similar spirit to that of Cohen, Searle (1968, p. 407) observes that a serious and literal utterance of ‘I promise to read that novel,’ made under what he terms “conditions of successful utterance”, also counts as a promise. Searle concludes from this that some locutionary acts are also illocutionary acts, and infers from this in turn that for some sentences, their locutionary meaning determines their illocutionary force. This last inference is, however, a non sequitur . As we have seen, the aforementioned sentence’s meaning does not determine the illocutionary force with which it is uttered. Rather, when that sentence is uttered in such a way as to constitute a promise, what determines that force is the meaning of the sentence together with such factors as the speaker’s being serious and other contextual conditions being met.

We may thus agree with Searle that some locutionary acts are also illocutionary acts, without losing sight of our earlier observation that locutionary meaning underdetermines illocutionary force. This fact about underdetermination is implied by Davidson’s Thesis of the Autonomy of Linguistic Meaning, according to which once a bit of language has acquired a conventional meaning, it can be used for any of a variety of extra-linguistic purposes (Davidson, 1979). Green 1997 argues for a qualification of Davidson’s Autonomy Thesis to recognize sentences having the feature that if they are used in a speech act all, then there is at least one other illocutionary force that their utterance must have. Even in light of this qualified version of the Autonomy Thesis, the most that can be said of, ‘I promise to climb the Eiffel Tower,’ is that it is designed to be used to make promises, just as common nouns are designed to be used to refer to things and predicates are designed to characterize things referred to. Below (Section 6.3) we shall consider the view that force is a component of meaning, albeit not of a sentence’s meaning. [ 5 ]

Let us return, then, to an elucidation of our distinction between what a speaker says and the force of her utterance. A grammatical sentence composed of meaningful words is commonly thought to express a “content,” which is determined by what that sentence literally means together with features of the context of utterance. Suppose I say to someone in a crowded subway, “You’re standing on my foot.” I am most likely trying to convey the message that he should move. However, what I literally say is only that the addressee in question is standing on my foot. This is the content of my utterance. Many if not most utterances of grammatical sentences composed of meaningful words express more than those sentences’ contents. Pragmaticians, however, commonly distinguish content from other aspects of meaning conveyed by an utterance. On this way of thinking, two intertranslatable sentences of different languages will express the same content, and certain transformations of a sentence within a language are commonly thought to express the same content. Thus, ‘Mary saw John,’ and ‘John was seen by Mary,’ will express the same content even if a speaker’s use of one rather than another of these will carry a distinctive suggestion. For indicative sentences, such contents are typically called Propositions . (In what follows I will capitalize this term to signify that it is in part technical.) Propositions, then, are the contents of indicative sentences, are what such sentences express, and, further, are often thought to be the primary bearers of truth value.

Illocutionary force and semantic content are often taken to be distinct from one another, not just in the way that your left and right hand are distinct, but rather by virtue of falling into different categories. Stenius 1967 elucidates this distinction, noting that in chemical parlance a radical is a group of atoms normally incapable of independent existence, whereas a functional group is the grouping of those atoms in a compound that is responsible for certain of that compound’s properties. Analogously, a Proposition is itself communicatively inert. For instance, merely expressing the Proposition that it is snowing is not to make a move in a “language game”. Rather, such a move is only made by putting forth a Proposition with an illocutionary force such as assertion, conjecture, command, etc. The chemical analogy gains further support from the fact that just as a chemist might isolate radicals held in common among various compounds, the student of language may isolate a common element held among ‘Is the door shut?’, ‘Shut the door!’, and ‘The door is shut’. This common element is the Proposition that the door is shut, queried in the first sentence, commanded to be made true in the second, and asserted in the third. According to the chemical analogy, then:

Illocutionary force : Propositional content :: functional group : radical

In light of this analogy we may see, following Stenius, that just as the grouping of a set of atoms is not itself another atom or set of atoms, so too the forwarding of a Proposition with a particular illocutionary force is not itself a further component of Propositional content.

Encouraged by the chemical analogy, a central tenet in the study of speech acts is that content may remain fixed while force varies. The force of an utterance also underdetermines its content: Just from the fact that a speaker has made a promise, we cannot deduce what she has promised to do. For these reasons, students of speech acts contend that a given communicative act may be analyzed into two components: force and content. While semantics studies the contents of communicative acts, pragmatics studies their force.

The force/content distinction also finds parallels in our understanding of mentality. Speech acts are not only moves in a “language game.” They also often purport to express of states of mind with analogous structural properties. An assertion that it is snowing purports to express the speaker’s belief that it is snowing. A promise to read Middlemarch purports to express the speaker’s intention to read Middlemarch . We find evidence for these relationships in the fact that it is in some sense absurd to say, ‘It’s snowing, but I don’t believe that it is,’ and ‘I promise to read Middlemarch , but I have no intention of doing so.’ [ 6 ] Further, just as we may distinguish between an assert ing and what is assert ed (the so-called “ing/ed ambiguity” for verbs such as ‘assert’), and a promis ing from what is promis ed , we may also distinguish between a state of believing and what is believed, and a state or act of intending and what is intended. Searle 1983 delineates structural analogies between speech acts and the mental states they express. Pendlebury 1986 succinctly explains the merits of this approach.

In spite of these structural analogies, we may still wonder why an elucidation of the notion of force is important for a theory of communication. That A is an important component of communication, and that A underdetermines B , do not justify the conclusion that B is an important component of communication. Content also underdetermines the decibel level at which we speak but this fact does not justify adding decibel level to our repertoire of core concepts for pragmatics or the philosophy of language. Why should force be thought any more worthy of admission to this set of core concepts than decibel level? One reason for an asymmetry in our treatment of force and decibel level is that the former, but not the latter, seems to be a component of speaker meaning: Force is a feature not of what is said but of how what is said is meant; decibel level, by contrast, is a feature at most of the way in which something is said. This point is developed in Section 5 below.

We have spoken thus far as if the contents of speech acts must be Propositions, and indeed Searle routinely analyzes speech acts as having the form F ( p ) (e.g., 1975, p. 344), where ‘ F ’ is the force component and ‘ p ’ the Propositional content component. However, in the last two decades linguistic semantics has developed formal representations of contents for the two other major grammatical moods besides the indicative, namely the interrogative and the imperative. On the strength of the analyses of Hamblin (1958), Bell (1975), Pendlebury (1986) and others, one strategy for the semantics of interrogatives is to construe them as expressing sets of propositions rather than a single proposition, where each element of the putative set is a complete answer to the question at issue. Thus the content expressed by ‘How many doors are shut?’ will be {<No doors are shut>, <One door is shut>, …} where the ellipsis will be filled by as many other Propositions as it is reasonable to interpret the questioner as asking after. Call such a set an Interrogative . A complete answer to an Interrogative is an element of the set by which it is defined; a partial answer is a subset of that set containing two or more members, as would naturally be expressed by the sentence ‘Between two and four doors are shut.’ On the present conceptualization, just as we may distinguish between expressing and asserting a Propositional content, we may also distinguish between expressing an Interrogative and asking a question. One merely expresses an Interrogative in such an utterance as, ‘John wonders how many doors are shut.’ In fact, a single utterance may express two Interrogatives while asking neither, as in ‘How many doors are shut will depend on how many customers are trying on clothes.’ Asking a question is no less substantial a conversational move than is making an assertion.

Similarly, work by Hamblin (1987), Belnap (1990), Portner (2004) and others suggests semantic analyses for sentences in the imperative mood: on one approach an imperative expresses a property, and when one speaker issues an imperative that her addressee accepts, that property is added to her “to do list”, itself a parameter of what we will later describe as conversational score (Section 7).

In light of the above liberalization of the notion of sentential content to accommodate the contents of non-indicative sentences, we may rephrase Stenius’s chemical analogy as follows:

Illocutionary force : sentential content :: functional group : radical

with the understanding that different types of sentential content will correspond to the different grammatical moods. This refined analogy would in turn require there to be different types of radical. [ 7 ]

In some cases we can make something the case by saying that it is. Alas, I cannot lose ten pounds by saying that I am doing so, nor can I persuade you of a claim by saying that I am doing so. On the other hand I can promise to meet you tomorrow by uttering the words, “I promise to meet you tomorrow,” and if I have the authority to do so, I can even appoint you to an office by saying, “I hereby appoint you.” (I can also appoint you without making the force of my act explicit: I might just say, “You are now Treasurer of the Corporation.”) Only an appropriate authority, speaking at the appropriate time and place, can: christen a ship, pronounce a couple married, appoint someone to an administrative post, declare the proceedings open, or rescind an offer. Austin, in How To Do Things With Words, details the conditions that must be met for a given speech act to be performed felicitously .

Failures of felicity fall into two classes: misfires and abuses . The former are cases in which the putative speech act fails to be performed at all. If I utter, before the QEII, “I declare this ship the Noam Chomsky,” I have not succeeded in naming anything because I lack the authority to do so. My act thus misfires in that I’ve performed an act of speech but no speech act. Other attempts at speech acts might misfire because their addressee fails to respond with an appropriate uptake : I cannot bet you $100 on who will win the election unless you accept that bet. If you do not accept that bet, then I have tried to bet but have not succeeded in betting. As we will see in Section 9, a systematic unwillingness on the part of a speaker’s interlocutors to respond with the requisite uptake may compromise that speaker’s freedom of speech.

Some speech acts can be performed–that is, not misfire—while still being less than felicitous. I promise to meet you for lunch tomorrow, but haven’t the least intention of making good. Here I have promised all right, but the act is not felicitous because it is not sincere. My act is, more precisely, an abuse because although it is a speech act, it fails to live up to a standard appropriate for speech acts of its kind. Sincerity is a paradigm condition for the felicity of speech acts. Austin foresaw a program of research in which thousands of types of speech act would be studied in detail, with felicity conditions elucidated for each. [ 8 ]

As observed by Sbisà 2007, not only can I perform a speech act by speaker meaning that I am doing so, I can also subsequently rescind that act. I cannot, it would seem, change the past, and so nothing I can do on Wednesday can change the fact that I made a promise or assertion on Monday. However, on Wednesday I may be able to retract a claim I made on Monday. I can’t take back a punch or a burp; the most I can do is apologize for one of these infractions, and perhaps make amends. By contrast, not only can I apologize or make amends for a claim I now regret; I can also withdraw it. Likewise, you may allow me on Wednesday to retract the promise I made to you on Monday. In both these cases of assertion and promise, I am now no longer beholden to the commitments that the speech acts engender in spite of the fact that the past is fixed. Just as one can, under appropriate conditions, perform a speech act by speaker meaning that one is doing so, so too one can, under the right conditions, retract that very speech act.

Austin famously denied that performatives are statements (1962, p. 6). This may be taken either as the denial that performative sentences, even those in the indicative grammatical mood, have truth value; or instead as the denial that utterances of performative sentences, even when such sentences have truth value, are assertions. One can consistently hold that an indicative sentence has truth value, and even that it may be uttered in such a way as to say something true, while denying that its utterance is an assertion. (Testing a microphone in a windowless room, I utter, “It’s raining,” and it happens to be raining outside. Here I have said something true but have made no assertion.)

Lemmon 1962 argues that performative utterances are true on the ground that they are instances of a wider class of sentences whose utterance guarantees their truth. If sound, this argument would show that performatives have truth value, but not that they are assertions. It also leaves unanswered the question why some verb phrases such as ‘I promise’ may be used performatively while others cannot be so used. Sinnott-Armstrong 1994 also argues that performatives can have truth value without addressing the question whether they are also used to make assertions. Reimer 1995 argues that while performatives have truth values, they are not also assertions. Adopting a similar strategy, Jary 2007 aims to explain how utterances of such sentences as “I order you to clean the kitchen,” can succeed in being orders. In so doing he draws on Green’s 2007 analysis of showing to argue that such utterances show (rather than merely describe) the force of the speaker’s utterance. Because ‘show’ is factive, if such an utterance shows its force, then it must have that force.

Most challenges to Austin, however, construe performatives as assertions and attempt to explain their properties in that light. Ginet 1979 argues that performative verbs (‘promise,’ ‘appoint’, etc.) name the kinds of acts that one can perform by asserting that one is doing so, and elaborates on why this is so. In this way he offers an account of how performatives work that depends on the assumption that performative utterances are assertions. Starting from that same assumption, Bach 1975 contends that ‘I order you to clean the kitchen’ is an assertion, and proceeds to explain on this basis how the speaker is indirectly also issuing an order. This explanation depends on the speaker’s being able to count on the addressee’s ability to discern the speaker’s communicative intention. In later work, such as Bach and Harnish 1978, and 1992, this view is refined with a notion of standardization, so that a sufficiently common practice of issuing assertions with performative effect enables speakers and hearers to bypass complex inferential reasoning and jump by default to a conclusion about the illocution being performed. Reimer 1995 challenges Bach and Harnish on the ground that hearers do not seem to impute assertoric force to the indicative sentences speakers utter with performative effect; her criticism would evidently carry over to Ginet’s proposal. Instead Reimer contends that performative utterances rest on systems of what she terms illocutionary conventions to achieve their performative effects.

Searle 1969, p. 62–4, had argued that a performative formula such as “I promise to…” is an “illocutionary force indicator” in the sense that it is a device whose role is to make explicit the force of the speaker’s utterance. Making something explicit, however, would seem to involve characterizing an independent event or state of affairs, and as a result Searle’s account presupposes that speakers can imbue their utterances with the force of demotions and excommunications; yet this is what was to be explained. Realizing this, Searle and Vanderveken (1985) characterize performatives as speech acts having the force of declarations. Uncontroversial examples of this speech act are declaring war or adjourning a meeting. Searle 1989 then acknowledges that this account pushes us back to the question how certain expressions come to have the power to make declarations. In that same work he offers an answer that depends on the view that in uttering a sentence with a performative prefix, a speaker manifests an intention to perform an act of a certain kind: in uttering the words, ‘I order you to close the door’, I manifest an intention to order you to close the door, etc. Searle also takes it that manifesting an intention to perform a speech act is sufficient for the performance of that act. On this basis, Searle goes on to attempt to derive the assertoric nature of performatives, holding that when uttered in such a way as to say something true, they are also assertions.

3. Aspects of Illocutionary Force

Austin distinguishes illocutionary acts into five categories: verdictives (in which a speaker gives a verdict, e.g. acquitting and diagnosing), exercitives (in which speakers exercise powers, rights or influence, e.g. excommunicating and resigning), commissives (in which speakers commit themselves to causes or courses of action, e.g. promising and betting), behabitives (concerning attitudes and social behavior, e.g. apologizing and toasting), and expositives (in which speakers clarify how their utterances fit into lines of reasoning, e.g., postulating and defining).

Searle (1975) criticizes Austin’s taxonomy on two central grounds. First, Austin’s methodology is unduly lexicographic, assuming that we can learn about the range and limits of illocutionary acts by studying illocutionary verbs in English or other natural languages. However, Searle observes, nothing rules out the possibility of there being illocutionary acts that are not named by a verb either in a particular language such as Swahili or Bengali, or indeed in any language at all; similarly, two non-synonymous illocutionary verbs may yet name one and the same illocutionary act.

Second, Searle argues that the principles of distinction among Austin’s categories are unclear. For instance, behavitives seem to be a heterogeneous group with little unifying principle. Similarly, ‘describe’ appears both as a verdictive and as an expositive whereas one would expect taxonomic categories to be mutually exclusive. More generally, Austin’s brief account of each category gives no direction as to why this way of delineating them does so along their most fundamental features. Searle offers a new categorization of speech acts based on relatively clear principles of distinction. To appreciate this it will help to explain some of the basic concepts he uses for this purpose.

Consider an example derived from Anscombe (1963): a woman sends her husband to the grocery store with a list of things to procure; unbeknownst to him he is also being trailed by a detective concerned to make a list of what the man buys. By the time the husband and detective are in the checkout line, their two lists contain exactly the same items. The contents of the two lists differ, however, along another dimension. For the contents of the husband’s list guide what he puts in his shopping cart. Insofar, his list exhibits world-to-word direction of fit : It is, so to speak, the job of the items in his cart to conform to what is on his list. By contrast, it is the job of the detective’s list to conform with the world, in particular to what is in the husband’s cart. As such, the detective’s list has word-to-world direction of fit : The onus is on those words to conform to how things are. Speech acts such as assertions and predictions have word-to-world direction of fit, while speech acts such as commands have world-to-word direction of fit.

Not all speech acts appear to have direction of fit. I can thank you by saying “Thank you,” and it is widely agreed that thanking is a speech act. However, thanking seems to have neither of the directions of fit we have discussed thus far. Similarly, asking who is at the door is a speech act, but it does not seem to have either of the directions of fit we have thus far mentioned. Some would respond by construing questions as a form of imperative (e.g., “Tell me who is at the door!”), and then ascribing the direction of fit characteristic of imperatives to questions. This leaves untouched, however, banal cases such as thanking or even, “Hooray for Arsenal!” Some authors, such as Searle and Vanderveken 1985, describe such cases as having “null” direction of fit. That characterization is evidently distinct from saying such speech acts have no direction of fit at all. [ 9 ]

Direction of fit is also not so fine-grained as to enable us to distinguish speech acts meriting different treatment. Consider asserting that the center of the Milky Way is inhabited by a black hole, as opposed to conjecturing that the center of the Milky Way is so inhabited. These two acts are subject to different norms: The former purports to be a manifestation of knowledge, while the latter does not. This is suggested by the fact that it is appropriate to reply to the assertion with, “How do you know?” (Williamson 1996), while that is not an appropriate response to the conjecture (Green 2017). Nevertheless, both the assertion and conjecture have word-to-world direction of fit. Might there be other notions enabling us to mark differences between speech acts with the same direction of fit?

One suggestion might come from the related notion of conditions of satisfaction . This notion generalizes that of truth. As we saw in 2.3, it is internal to the activity of assertion that it aims to capture how things are. When an assertion does so, not only is it true, it has hit its target; the aim of the assertion has been met. A similar point may be made of imperatives: it is internal to the activity of issuing an imperative that the world is enjoined to conform to it. The imperative is satisfied just in case it is fulfilled. Assertions and imperatives both have conditions of satisfaction—truth in the first place, and conformity in the second. In addition, it might be held that questions have answerhood as their conditions of satisfaction: A question hits its target just in case it finds an answer, often in a speech act, such as an assertion, that answers the question posed. Like the notion of direction of fit, however, the notion of conditions of satisfaction is too coarse-grained to enable us to make some valuable distinctions among speech acts. Just to use our earlier case again: an assertion and a conjecture that P have identical conditions of satisfaction, namely that P be the case. May we discern features distinguishing these two speech acts, in a way enabling us to make finer-grained distinctions among other speech acts as well? I shall return to this question in Sections 6–7.

In an attempt to systematize and deepen Austin’s approach, Searle and Vanderveken 1985 distinguish between those illocutionary forces employed by speakers within a given linguistic community, and the set of all possible illocutionary forces. While a certain linguistic community may make no use of forces such as conjecturing or appointing, these two are among the set of all possible forces. (These authors appear to assume that while the set of possible forces may be infinite, it has a definite cardinality.) Searle and Vanderveken go on to define illocutionary force in terms of seven features, namely:

Illocutionary point : This is the characteristic aim of each type of speech act. For instance, the characteristic aim of an assertion is to describe how things are, and perhaps also to bring about belief in an addressee; the characteristic aim of a promise is to commit oneself to a future course of action.
Degree of strength of the illocutionary point : Two illocutions can have the same point but differ along the dimension of strength. For instance, requesting and insisting that the addressee do something both have the point of attempting to get the addressee to do that thing; however, the latter is stronger than the former.
Mode of achievement : This is the special way, if any, in which the illocutionary point of a speech act must be achieved. Testifying and asserting both have the point of describing how things are; however, the former also involves invoking one’s authority as a witness while the latter does not. To testify is to assert in one’s capacity as a witness. Commanding and requesting both aim to get the addressee to do something; yet only someone issuing a command does so in her capacity as a person in a position of authority.
Content conditions : Some illocutions can only be achieved with an appropriate propositional content. For instance, I can only promise what is in the future and under my control; or, at least, I cannot promise to do anything that it is obvious to myself and my promissee that I cannot do. So too, I can only apologize for what is in some sense under my control and already the case. (In light of our discussion above of semantics for non-indicative contents, this condition could be recast in terms of imperatival, interrogative, and propositional content conditions.)
Preparatory conditions : These are all other conditions that must be met for the speech act not to misfire. Such conditions often concern the social status of interlocutors. For instance, a person cannot bequeath an object unless she already owns it or has power of attorney; a person cannot marry a couple unless she is legally invested with the authority to do so.
Sincerity conditions : Many speech acts involve the expression of a psychological state. Assertion expresses belief; apology expresses regret, a promise expresses an intention, and so on. A speech act is sincere only if the speaker is in the psychological state that her speech act expresses.
Degree of strength of the sincerity conditions : Two speech acts might be the same along other dimensions, but express psychological states that differ from one another in the dimension of strength. Requesting and imploring both express desires, and are identical along the other six dimensions above; however, the latter expresses a stronger desire than the former.

Searle and Vanderveken (1985) suggest, in light of these seven characteristics, that each illocutionary force may be defined as a septuple of values, each of which is a “setting” of a value within one of the seven characteristics. It follows, according to this suggestion, that two illocutionary forces F 1 and F 2 are identical just in case they correspond to the same septuple.

I cannot slow the expansion of the universe or convince you of the truth of a claim by saying that I am doing so. However, these two cases differ in that the latter, but not the former, is a characteristic aim of a speech act. One characteristic aim of assertion is the production of belief in an addressee, whereas there is no speech act one of whose characteristic aims is the slowing of the universe’s expansion. A type of speech act can have a characteristic aim without each speech act of that type being issued with that aim: Speakers sometimes make assertions without aiming to produce belief in anyone, even themselves. Instead, the view that a speech act-type has a characteristic aim is akin to the view that a biological trait has a function. The characteristic role of wings is to aid in flight even though some flightless creatures are winged.

Austin called these characteristic aims of speech acts perlocutions (1962, p. 101). I can both urge and persuade you to shut the door, yet the former is an illocution while the latter is a perlocution. How can we tell the difference? We can do so by noting that under the right conditions, one can urge just by saying and speaker meaning, “I hereby urge you to shut the door,” while there are no circumstances in which I can persuade you just by saying, “I hereby persuade you to shut the door.” A characteristic aim of urging is, nevertheless, the production of a resolution to act (1962, p. 107). Cohen (1973) develops the idea of perlocutions as characteristic aims of speech acts.

Perlocutions are characteristic aims of one or more illocution, but are not themselves illocutions. Nevertheless, one speech act can be performed by means of the performance of another. For instance, my remark that you are standing on my foot is normally taken as, in addition, a demand that you move; my question whether you can pass the salt is normally taken as a request that you do so. These are examples of so-called indirect speech acts (Searle 1979). Phrases that are commonly used in service of indirect speech acts are, ‘Would you mind terribly if I…,’ ‘Might I suggest…,’ and ‘It seems to me that…’, or simply ‘please’, as in ‘Can you pass the salt, please?’ Observe that this last sentence, with its appended tag-question, cannot be interpreted as a request for information (about the addressee’s salt-passing abilities), but can only be understood as a request. Asher and Lascarides (2001) provide a formal model of indirect speech acts on which some are conventionalized while others require Gricean reasoning for their interpretation.

While indirect communication is ubiquitous, indirect speech acts are less common than might first appear. In asking whether you intend to quit smoking, I might be taken as well to be suggesting that you quit. However, while the embattled smoker might jump to this interpretation, we do well to consider what evidence would mandate it. After all, while I probably would not have asked whether you intended to quit smoking unless I hoped you would quit, I can evince such a hope without performing the speech act of suggesting. Evincing a psychological state, even if done intentionally, arguably does not constitute a speech act. Instead, intentionally evincing a psychological state may be understood as simply expressing that state (See Green 2020, ch. 2).

Whether, in addition to a given speech act, I am also performing an indirect speech act would seem to depend on my intentions. My question whether you can pass the salt is also a request that you do so only if I intend to be so understood. What is more, this intention must be feasibly discernible on the part of one’s audience. Even if, in remarking on the fine weather, I intend as well to request that you pass the salt, I will not have issued a request unless I have made that intention manifest in some way.

How might I do this? One way is by making an inference to the best explanation. Perhaps the best explanation of my asking whether you can pass the salt is that I mean to be requesting that you do so, and perhaps the best explanation of my remarking that you are standing on my foot, particularly if I use a stentorian tone of voice, is that I mean to be demanding that you desist. By contrast, it is doubtful that the best explanation of my asking whether you intend to quit smoking is that I intend to suggest that you do so. Another explanation at least as plausible is my hope, or expression of hope, that you do so. Bertolet 1994 develops a more skeptical position than that suggested here, arguing that any alleged case of an indirect speech act can be construed just as an indication, by means of contextual clues, of the speaker’s intentional state—hope, desire, etc., as the case may be. Postulation of a further speech act beyond what has been (relatively) explicitly performed is, he contends, explanatorily unmotivated. McGowan et al . (2009) reply by offering three conditions they take to be sufficient for a case of what they term linguistic communication. They would also argue that in, for instance, the smoking case, the speaker meets those three conditions, and thus counts as suggesting that the addressee quit smoking. Bertolet (2017) replies that these three conditions are not sufficient for an instance of speaker meaning, and given that (as we have seen) speaker meaning is a necessary condition for (non-conventional) speech acts, concludes that McGowan et al . have not established that the cases that concern them are indirect speech acts.

These considerations suggest that indirect speech acts, if they do occur at all, can be explained within the framework of conversational implicature–that process by which we mean more (and on some occasions less) than we say, but in a way not due exclusively to the conventional meanings of our words. Conversational implicature, too, depends both upon communicative intentions and the availability of inference to the best explanation (Grice, 1989). In fact, Searle’s 1979 influential account of indirect speech acts is couched in terms of conversational implicature (although he does not use this phrase). The study of speech acts is in this respect intertwined with the study of conversations; we return to this theme in Section 6. [ 10 ]

4. Mood, Force and Convention

Not only does content underdetermine force; content together with grammatical mood does so as well. ‘You’ll be more punctual in the future’ is in the indicative grammatical mood, but as we have seen, that fact does not determine its force. The same may be said of other grammatical moods. Although I overhear you utter the words, ‘shut the door’, I cannot infer yet that you are issuing a command. Perhaps instead you are simply describing your own intention, in the course of saying, “I intend to shut the door.” If so, you’ve used the imperative mood without issuing a command. So too with the interrogative mood: I overhear your words, ‘who is on the phone.’ Thus far I don’t know whether you’ve asked a question, since you may have so spoken in the course of stating, “John wonders who is on the phone.” Might either or both of initial capitalization or final punctuation settle the issue? Apparently not: What puzzles Meredith is the following question: Who is on the phone?

Mood together with content underdetermine force. On the other hand it is a plausible hypothesis that grammatical mood is one of the devices we use (together with contextual clues, intonation, and the like) to indicate the force with which we are expressing a content. Understood in this weak way, it is unexceptionable to construe the interrogative mood as used for asking questions, the imperatival mood as used for issuing commands, and so on. So understood, we might go on to ask how speakers indicate the force of their speech acts given that grammatical mood and content cannot be relied on alone to do so.

One well known answer we may term force conventionalism . According to a strong version of this view, for every speech act that is performed, there is some convention that will have been invoked in order to make that speech act occur. This convention transcends those imbuing words with their literal meaning. Thus, force conventionalism implies that in order for use of ‘I promise to meet you tomorrow at noon,’ to constitute a promise, not only must the words used possess their standard conventional meanings, there must also exist a convention to the effect that the use, under the right conditions, of some such words as these constitutes a promise. Austin seems to have held this view. For instance in his characterization of “felicity conditions” for speech acts, Austin holds that for each speech act

There must exist an accepted conventional procedure having a certain conventional effect, that procedure to include the uttering of certain words by certain persons in certain circumstances… (1962, p. 14).

Austin’s student Searle follows him in this, writing

…utterance acts stand to propositional and illocutionary acts in the way in which, e.g., making an X on a ballot paper stands to voting. (1969, p. 24)

Searle goes on to clarify this commitment in averring,

…the semantic structure of a language may be regarded as a conventional realization of a series of sets of underlying constitutive rules, and …speech acts are acts characteristically performed by uttering sentences in accordance with these sets of constitutive rules. (1969, p. 37)

Searle espouses a weaker form of force conventionalism than does Austin in leaving open the possibility that some speech acts can be performed without constitutive rules; Searle considers the case of a dog requesting to be let outside (1969, p. 39). Nevertheless Searle does contend that speech acts are characteristically performed by invoking constitutive rules.

Millikan (1998) espouses a parsimonious conception of conventions that she terms ‘natural conventions,’ and on the assumption that natural conventions are a type of convention, one would expect this strategy to make it easier to defend the view that speech acts are inherently conventional. For Millikan, a natural convention is constituted by patterns that are reproduced by virtue of the weight of precedent. [ 11 ] A pattern is reproduced just in case it has a form that derives from a previous entity having, in certain respects, the same form, and in such a way that had the previous form been different in those respects, the current form would be different in those respects as well (1998, p. 163). Photocopying is one form of reproduction meeting these criteria; the retinotopic mapping from patterns of stimulation on the retina to patterns of stimulation in the visual cortex is evidently another. Millikan would not treat retinotopic mapping as a type of convention, however, since it would not seem to be perpetuated by virtue of the weight of precedent. The point is difficult to discern, however, since in her discussion of the matter Millikan discusses the conditions under which a pattern is taken to be conventional, rather than for it to be conventional, writing

To be thought of as conventional, a reproduced pattern must be perceived as proliferated due, in important part, to weight of precedent, not to its intrinsically superior capacity to produce a desired result, or due, say, to ignorance of alternatives (ibid, p. 166).

Millikan thus seems to characterize what it is for a pattern to have weight of precedent in terms of that pattern’s being perceived to have such weight. This notion is not itself elucidated, and as a result the notion of weight of precedent is left obscure in her account. Nonetheless, she tells us that just as the conventions of chess dictate that when one’s king is in check, one does what one can to get him out of check; so too the conventions of language dictate that when A tells B that p , B responds by believing that p . Millikan describes the hearer’s response as a hidden, inner act that is not under B ’s voluntary control. Millikan also describes this response as being learned in the way that we learn what she calls “natural sign patterns,” such as our learning that the sound of crashing waves is an indication of a nearby coastline.

On Millikan’s view, then, A ’s assertion of p being followed by B ’s belief that p is a process that is not intrinsically superior to others that might have been followed. This may be doubted, however. What, after, all would be viable alternative responses? Dis believing p ? Remaining neutral on the question of p ? Scratching one’s left earlobe? Any of these responses would tend to undermine the use of language as a means for transmission of information. What is more, if belief formation is not under the voluntary control of addressees, it is obscure how this aspect of communication could be conventional, any more than the pattern of stimulation of our visual cortex is conventional when that pattern results from an isomorphic pattern on the retina.

4.3. An Intentionalist Alternative to Force Conventionalism

Force-conventionalism as espoused by Austin and later Searle has been challenged by Strawson , who writes,

I do not want to deny that there may be conventional postures or procedures for entreating: one can, for example, kneel down, raise one’s arms, and say, “I entreat you.” But I do want to deny that an act of entreaty can be performed only as conforming to such conventions….[T]o suppose that there is always and necessarily a convention conformed to would be like supposing that there could be no love affairs which did not proceed on lines laid down in the Roman de la Rose or that every dispute between men must follow the pattern specified in Touchstone’s speech about the countercheck quarrelsome and the lie direct. (1964, p. 444)

Strawson contends that rather than appealing to a series of extra-semantic conventions to account for the possibility of speech acts, we explain that possibility in terms of our ability to discern one another’s communicative intentions. What makes an utterance of a sentence in the indicative mood a prediction rather than a command, for instance, is that it manifests an intention to be so taken; likewise for promises rather than predictions. This position is compatible with holding that in special cases linguistic communities have instituted conventions for particular speech acts such as appointing and excommunicating. So too, as Skinner (1970) observes, understanding the utterances of an historical figure crucially depends on sensitivity to conventions of the society in which they are made.

Intending to make an assertion, promise, or request, however, is not enough to perform one of these acts. Those intentions must be efficacious. The same point applies to cases of trying to perform a speech act, even when what one is trying to do is clear to others. This fact emerges from reflecting on an oft-quoted passage from Searle:

Human communication has some extraordinary properties, not shared by most other kinds of human behavior. One of the most extraordinary is this: If I am trying to tell someone something, then (assuming certain conditions are satisfied) as soon as he recognizes that I am trying to tell him something and exactly what it is I am trying to tell him, I have succeeded in telling it to him. (1969, p. 47.)

As Green 2013 observes, the point may be doubted. Suppose I am trying to work up the courage to ask Sidney’s hand in marriage. Sidney recognizes this fact on the basis of background knowledge, my visible embarrassment, and my fumbling in my pocket for an engagement ring. Here we cannot infer that I have succeeded in asking Sidney anything. Nothing short of coming out and saying it will do. Similarly, it might be common knowledge that my moribund uncle is trying, as he breathes his last, to bequeath me his fortune; still, I won’t inherit a penny if he expires before saying what he was trying to. [ 12 ] Closer to Searle’s example, even if you were to find, on the basis of fMRI analysis of my neural activity, that I was trying to tell you that it’s going to rain tomorrow, I still have not asserted anything about tomorrow’s weather. (If I were completely paralyzed as a result of Locked-In Syndrome, then making such a neural effort might be the most I can hope to do; in that case, your fMRI information might be enough to justify you in taking me to have performed a speech act.)

The gist of these examples is not the requirement that words be uttered in every speech act—we have already observed that speech acts can be performed silently. Rather, their gist is that speech acts involve intentional undertaking of a publicly accessible commitment; further, that commitment is not undertaken simply by virtue of my intending to undertake it, even when it is common knowledge that this is what I am trying to do. Can we, however, give a more illuminating characterization of the relevant intentions than merely saying that, for instance, to assert P one must intentionally put forth P as an assertion? Strawson (1964) proposes that we can do so with aid of the notion of speaker meaning—to which we now turn.

5. Speaker-Meaning and Force

As we have seen, that A is an important component of communication, and that A underdetermines B , do not justify the conclusion that B is an important component of communication. One reason for an asymmetry in our treatment of force and decibel level is that the former, but not the latter, seems crucial to how I mean what I say. I intend to speak at a certain volume, and sometimes succeed, but in most cases it is no part of how I mean what I say that I happen to be speaking at that volume. On the other hand, the force of my utterance is an aspect of what I mean. It is not, as we have seen, any aspect of what I say—that notion being closely associated with content. However, whether I mean what I say as an assertion, a conjecture, a promise or something else will be crucial to how I mean what I do.

In his influential 1957 article, Grice distinguished between two uses of ‘mean’. One use is exemplified by remarks such as ‘Those clouds mean rain,’ and ‘Those spots mean measles.’ The notion of meaning in play in such cases Grice dubs ‘natural meaning’. Grice suggests that we may distinguish this use of ‘mean’ from another use of the word more relevant to communication, exemplified in such utterances as

In saying “You make a better door than a window”, George meant that you should move,

In gesticulating that way, Salvatore means that there’s quicksand over there,

Grice used the term ‘non-natural meaning’ for this use of ‘mean’, and in more recent literature this jargon has been replaced with the term ‘speaker meaning’. [ 13 ] After distinguishing between natural and (what we shall hereafter call) speaker meaning, Grice attempts to characterize the latter. It is not enough that I do something that influences the beliefs of an observer: In putting on a coat I might lead an observer to conclude that I am going for a walk. Yet in such a case it is not plausible that I mean that I am going for a walk in the sense germane to speaker meaning. Might performing an action with an intention of influencing someone’s beliefs be sufficient for speaker meaning? No: I might secretly leave Smith’s handkerchief at the crime scene to make the police think that Smith is the culprit. However, whether or not I am successful in getting the authorities to think that Smith is the culprit, in this case it is not plausible that I mean that Smith is the culprit.

What is missing in the handkerchief example is the element of overtness. This suggests another criterion: Performing an action with the, or an, intention of influencing someone’s beliefs, while intending that this very intention be recognized. Grice contends that even here we do not have enough for speaker meaning. Herod presents Salome with St. John’s severed head on a charger, intending that she discern that St. John is dead and intending that this very intention of his be recognized. Grice observes that in so doing Herod is not telling Salome anything, but is instead deliberately and openly letting her know something. Grice concludes that Herod’s action is not a case of speaker meaning either. The problem is not that Herod is not using words; we have already considered communicators who mean things wordlessly. The problem seems to be that to infer what Herod intends her to, Salome does not have to take his word for anything. She can see the severed head for herself if she can bring herself to look. By contrast, in its central uses, telling requires a speaker to intend to convey information (or alleged information) in a way that relies crucially upon taking her at her word. Grice appears to assume that at least for the case in which what is meant is a proposition (rather than a question or an imperative), speaker meaning requires a telling in this central sense. What is more, this last example is a case of performing an action with an intention of influencing someone’s beliefs, even while intending that this very intention be recognized; yet it is not a case of telling. Grice infers that it is not a case of speaker meaning either.

Grice holds that for speaker meaning to occur, not only must one (a) intend to produce an effect on an audience, and (b) intend that this very intention be recognized by that audience, but also (c) intend this effect on the audience to be produced at least in part by their recognition of the speaker’s intention. The intention to produce a belief or other attitude by means (at least in part) of recognition of this very intention, has come to be called a reflexive communicative intention .

It may be doubted that speaker meaning requires reflexive communicative intentions. After all, a mathematics teacher who proves a theorem T for her class likely wants her pupils to believe T on the strength of her proof rather than their recognition of her intention that they come to believe T. (Vlach 1981) It may even be doubted that speaker meaning requires intentions to produce cognitive effects on addressees at all: Davis (1992) provides a range of cases such as speaking to pre-linguistic infants, uncooperative photocopy machines, and photos of deceased loved ones. [ 14 ] , [ 15 ] Instead of intentions to produce psychological effects in an addressee, some authors have advocated a construal of speaker meaning as overtly manifesting an aspect of one’s commitments or state of mind (Green 2019). Compare my going to the closet to take out my overcoat (not a case of speaker meaning), with the following case: After heatedly arguing about the weather, I march to the closet while beadily meeting your stare, then storm out the front door while ostentatiously donning the coat. Here it is more plausible that I mean that it is raining outside, and the reason seems to be that I am making some attitude of mine overt: I am not only showing it, I am making clear my intention to do just that.

How does this detour through speaker meaning help to elucidate the notion of force? One way of asserting that P , it seems, is overtly to manifest my commitment to P , and indeed commitment of a particular kind: commitment to defend P in response to challenges of the form, “How do you know that?” I must also overtly manifest my liability to be either right or wrong on the issue of P depending on whether P is the case. By contrast, I conjecture P by overtly manifesting my commitment to P in this same “liability to error” way, but I am not committed to responding to challenges demanding full justification. I must, however, give some reason for believing P ; this much cannot, however, be said of a guess.

We perform a speech act, then, when we overtly commit ourselves in a certain way to a content—where that way is an aspect of how we speaker-mean that content. One way to do that is to invoke a convention for undertaking commitment; another way is overtly to manifest one’s intention to be so committed. We may elucidate the relevant forms of commitment by spelling out the norms underlying them. We have already adumbrated such an approach in our discussion of the differences among asserting and conjecturing. Developing that discussion a bit further, compare

conjecturing

All three of these acts have word-to-world direction of fit, and all three have conditions of satisfaction mandating that they are satisfied just in case the world is as their content says it is. Further, one who asserts, conjectures, or guesses that P is right or wrong on the issue of P depending on whether P is in fact so. However, as we move down the list we find a decreasing order of stringency in commitment. One who asserts P lays herself open to the challenge, “How do you know that?”, and she is obliged to retract P if she is unable to respond to that challenge adequately. By contrast, this challenge is inappropriate for either a conjecture or a guess. On the other hand, we may justifiably demand of the conjecturer that she give some reason for her conjecture; yet not even this much may be said of one who makes a guess. (The “educated guess” is intermediate between these two cases.)

This illocutionary dimension of speaker meaning characterizes not what is meant, but rather how it is meant. Just as we may consider your remark, directed toward me, “You’re tired,” and my remark, “I’m tired,” as having said the same thing but in different ways; so too we may consider my assertion of P , followed by a retraction and then followed by a conjecture of P , as two consecutive cases in which I speaker-mean that P but do so in different ways. This idea will be developed further in Section 8 under the rubric of “mode” of illocutionary commitment. [ 16 ]

Speaker meaning, then, encompasses not just content but also force, and we may elucidate this in light of the normative structure characteristic of each speech act: When you overtly display a commitment characteristic of that speech act, you have performed that speech act. Is this a necessary condition as well? That depends on whether I can perform a speech act without intending to do so—a topic for Section 9 below. For now, however, compare the view at which we have arrived with Searle’s view that one performs a speech act when others become aware of one’s intention to perform that act. What is missing from Searle’s characterization is the notion of overtness: The agent in question must not only make her intention to undertake a certain commitment manifest; she must also intend that that very intention be manifest. There is more to overtness than wearing one’s heart (or mind) on one’s sleeve.

6. Force, Norms, and Conversation

In elucidating this normative dimension of force, we have sought to characterize speech acts in terms of their conversational roles. That is not to say that speech acts can only be performed in the setting of a conversation: I can approach you, point out that your vehicle is blocking mine, and storm off. Here I have made an assertion but have not engaged in a conversation. Perhaps I can ask myself a question in the privacy of my study and leave it at that–not continuing into a conversation with myself. However, a speech act’s “ecological niche” may nevertheless be the conversation. In that spirit, while we may be able to remove a speech act type from its environment and scrutinize it in isolated captivity, doing so may blind us to some of its distinctive features.

This ecological analogy sheds light on a dispute over the question whether speech acts can profitably be studied in isolation from the conversations in which they occur. An empiricist framework, exemplified in John Stuart Mill’s A System of Logic , suggests attempting to discern the meaning of a word, for instance a proper name, in isolation. By contrast, Gottlob Frege (1884) enjoins us to understand a word’s meaning in terms of the contribution it makes to an entire sentence. Such a method is indispensable for a proper treatment of such expressions as quantifiers, and represents a major advance over empiricist approaches. Yet students of speech acts have espoused going even further, insisting that the unit of significance is not the proposition but the speech act. Vanderveken writes,

Illocutionary acts are important for the purpose of philosophical semantics because they are the primary units of meaning in the use and comprehension of natural language. (Vanderveken, 1990, p. 1.)

Why not go even further, since speech acts characteristically occur in conversations? Is the unit of significance really the debate, the colloquy, the interrogation?

Students of conversation analysis have contended precisely this, remarking that many speech acts fall naturally into pairs. [ 17 ] For instance, questions pair naturally with assertions when the latter purport to be answers to those questions. Likewise, offers pair naturally with acceptances or rejections, and it is easy to multiply examples. Searle, who favors studying speech acts in isolation, has replied to these considerations (Searle 1992). There he issues a challenge to students of conversation to provide an account of conversations parallel to that of speech acts, arguing as well that the prospects for such an account are dim. One of his reasons is that unlike speech acts conversations do not as such have a point or purpose. Green 1999 rejoins that many conversations may indeed be construed in teleological terms. For instance, many conversations may be construed as aimed at answering a question, even when that question concerns something as banal as the afternoon’s weather or the location of the nearest subway station. Asher and Lascardes (2003) develop a systematic treatment of speech acts in their conversational setting that also responds to Searle’s challenge. Additionally, Roberts (2004, 2012) develops a model of conversational kinematics according to which conversations are invariably aimed at answering what she terms a question under discussion (QUD). This view is best appreciated within the framework of the “scorekeeping model” of conversation, to which we now turn.

Much literature concerned with speech acts is curiously disconnected from research in the semantics of natural language emphasizing pragmatic factors. For instance, Stalnaker (1972, 1973, 1974), Lewis (1979, 1980), Thomason (1990) and others have developed models of the kinematics of conversations aimed at understanding the role of quantification, presupposition (both semantic and pragmatic), anaphora, deixis, and vagueness in discourse. Such models typically construe conversations as involving an ever-developing set of Propositions that can be presupposed by interlocutors. This set of Propositions is the conversational common ground , defined as that set of Propositions that all interlocutors take to be true, while also taking it that all other interlocutors take them to be true. If a Proposition p is in a conversation’s common ground, then a speaker may felicitously presuppose p’s truth. Suppose then that the Proposition that Singapore has a unique King is in a conversation’s common ground at given point; then a speaker may felicitously utter a sentence such as ‘The present King of Singapore is wise,’ or ‘Singapore’s king is sleeping’. Other parameters characterizing a conversation at a given point include the domain of discourse, a set of salient perceptible objects, standards of precision, time, world or situation, speaker, and addressee. The set of all values for these items at a given conversational moment is often referred to as “conversational score”.

“Scorekeeping” approaches to language use typically construe a contribution to a conversation as a Proposition: If that “assertion” is accepted, then the score is updated by having the Proposition entered into common ground. In this spirit, MacFarlane (2011) considers an account of the speech act of assertion in terms an utterance’s capacity to update conversational score. Such an approach will, however, face a difficulty in explaining how two speech acts with the same content, such as an assertion that the Milky Way contains a black hole, and a conjecture that it does, will make different conversational contributions. An enrichment of the scorekeeping model would include sensitivity to differences such as these.

Another development in the scorekeeping model refines the teleological picture adumbrated above to incorporate Questions, construed (along the lines of Section 2.1) as sets of Propositions. When an interlocutor proffers an assertion that is not met with objections by others in the conversation, the Propositional content of that illocution will enter into common ground. When an interlocutor poses a question that is accepted by others, we may represent the change as an addition to Common Ground of the set of propositions that is the Interrogative content of that illocution. The presence of that Interrogative obliges interlocutors to work to rule all but one Proposition that is a complete answer to the Interrogative. Because Interrogatives stand in inferential relations to one another (Q1 entails Q2 just in case any answer to Q1 is an answer to Q2), one strategy for answering a question is to divide it into tractable questions that it entails: ‘How many covered bridges are there in Japan?’ can be answered by answering that question for each of that country’s 47 prefectures. Roberts (2004, 2012) develops the Question Under Discussion model of conversational dynamics according to which common ground contains a partially ordered set of Interrogatives in addition to a set of Propositions. This teleological approach to conversation bids fair to enrich our understanding of the relations of speech acts to other central topics within pragmatics such as presupposition and implicature. [ 18 ]

Frege’s Begriffsschrift (1879) constitutes history’s first thoroughgoing attempt to formulate a rigorous formal system in which to carry out deductive reasoning. However, Frege did not see his Begriffsschrift as merely a tool for assessing the validity of arguments. Rather, he appears to have seen it as an organon for the acquisition of knowledge from unquestionable first principles; in addition he wanted to use it in order to help make clear the epistemic foundations on which our knowledge rests. To this end his formal system contains not only symbols indicating the content of propositions (including logical constants), but also symbols indicating the force with which they are put forth. In particular, Frege insists that when using his formal system to acquire new knowledge from propositions already known, we use an assertion sign to indicate our acknowledgment of the truth of the proposition used as axioms or inferred therefrom. Frege thus employs what would now be called a force indicator : an expression whose use indicates the force with which an associated proposition is being put forth (Green 2002).

Reichenbach expands upon Frege’s idea in his 1947. In addition to using an assertion sign, Reichenbach also uses indicators of interrogative and imperatival force. Hare similarly introduces force indicators to lay bare the way in which ethical and cognate utterances are made (Hare 1970). Davidson (1979), however, challenges the value of this entire enterprise of introducing force-indicating devices into languages, formal or otherwise. Davidson’s reason is that since natural language already contains many devices for indicating the force of one’s speech act, the only interest a force indicator could have would be if it could guarantee the force of one’s speech act. But nothing could do this: Any device purporting to be, say, an infallible indicator of assertoric force is liable to being used by a joker or actor to heighten the realism of their performance. Referring to the putative force-indicating device as a ‘strengthened mood,’ he writes,

It is apparent that merely speaking the sentence in the strengthened mood cannot be counted on to result in an assertion: every joker, storyteller, and actor will immediately take advantage of the strengthened mood to simulate assertion. There is no point, then, in the strengthened mood; the available indicative does as well as language can do in the service of assertion (Davidson 1979, p. 311).

Hare 1989 replies that there could be a society with a convention that utterance of a certain expression constituted performance of a certain illocutionary act, even those utterances that occur on stage or as used by jokers or storytellers. Green 1997 questions the relevance of this observation to asserting, which as we have seen, which as we have seen, seem to require intentions for their performance. Just as no convention could make it the case that I believe that P , so too no convention could make it the case that I intend to put forth a certain sentence as an assertion.

On the other hand, Green 1997 and Green 2000 also observe that even if there can be no force indicator in the sense Davidson criticizes, nothing prevents natural language from containing devices that indicate force conditional upon one’s performing a speech act: such a force indicator would not show whether one is performing a speech act, but, given that one is doing so, it would show which speech act one is performing. For instance, parenthetical expressions such as, ‘as is the case’ can occur in the antecedent of conditionals, as in: ‘If, as is the case, the globe is warming, then Antarctica will melt.’ Use of the parenthetical cannot guarantee that the sentence or any part of it is being asserted, but if the entire sentence is being asserted, then, Green claims, use of the parenthetical guarantees that the speaker is also committed to the content of the antecedent. If this claim is correct, natural language already contains force indicators in this qualified sense. Whether it is worth introducing such force indicators into a logical notation remains an open question.

Subsequent to Austin’s introduction of the notion of a performative, it has also been suggested that what we might call performative sentential frames behave like force indicators: ‘I claim that it is sunny,’ seems to be a prolix way of saying that it is sunny, where the ‘I claim’ seems only to indicate how what follows is to be taken. On the approach of Urmson (1952), for instance, such a sentence should be understood on the model of ‘It is sunny, I claim.’ Support for such an analysis may be found in the fact that a potential reply to that utterance is ‘No it isn’t; it’s pouring outside!’, while ‘No you don’t’ is not. Again, if the speaker does not believe it is sunny outside, she cannot dodge, she cannot dodge the accusation of lying by remarking that what she had asserted was that she claimed that it is sunny, and not anything about the weather.

Nonetheless, drawing on Cohen 1964, Lycan 2018 objects to the view that such performative frames make no contribution to sentence or utterance meaning. If Marissa felicitously utters, ‘I claim that it is sunny,’ while Abdul felicitously utters, ‘I conjecture that it is sunny,’ the view implies that their utterances mean the same. The two speakers have clearly said different things, however. On the other hand, if we hold that the performative frame does contribute to the content of what Marissa and Abdul said, then, Lycan points out, it will be difficult to explain how their utterances commit either of them to any position about the weather. It evidently won’t do to posit inference rules such as ‘I state that p ,‘ ergo , ‘ p ’. We will consider a solution to what Lycan terms “Cohen’s Problem” after developing a notion of illocutionary inference in the next section.

Students of speech acts contend, as we have seen, that the unit of communicative significance is the Illocution rather than the Proposition. This attitude prompts the question whether logic itself might be enriched by incorporating inferential relations among speech acts rather than just inferential relations among Propositions. Just as two event-types E 1 and E 2 (such as running quickly and running) could be logically related to one another in that it is not possible for one to occur without the other; so too speech act types S 1 and S 2 could be inferentially related to one another if it is not possible to perform one without performing the other. A warning that the bull is about to charge is also an assertion that the bull is about to charge but the converse is not true. This is in spite of the fact that these two speech acts have the same propositional content: That the bull is about to charge. If, therefore, warning implies asserting but not vice versa, then that inferential relation is not to be caught within the net of inferential relations among propositions.

In their Foundations of Illocutionary Logic (1985), Searle and Vanderveken attempt a general treatment of logical relations among speech acts. They describe their central question in terms of commitment:

A theory of illocutionary logic of the sort we are describing is essentially a theory of illocutionary commitment as determined by illocutionary force. The single most important question it must answer is this: Given that a speaker in a certain context of utterance performs a successful illocutionary act of a certain form, what other illocutions does the performance of that act commit him to? (1985, p. 6)

To explicate their notion of illocutionary commitment, these authors invoke their definition of illocutionary force in terms of the seven values mentioned in Section 2.3 above. On the basis of this definition, they define two notions pertinent to entailment relations among speech acts, namely strong illocutionary commitment and weak illocutionary commitment . According to the former definition, an illocutionary act S 1 commits a speaker to another illocutionary act S 2 iff it is not possible to perform S 1 without performing S 2 . Whether that relation holds between a pair of illocutionary acts depends on the particular septuples with which they are identified. Thus suppose that S 1 is identical with <IP 1 , Str 1 , Mode 1 , Cont 1 , Prep 1 , Sinc 1 , Stresinc 1 > (corresponding to illocutionary point, strength, mode of achievement, propositional content, preparatory condition, sincerity condition, and strength of sincerity condition, respectively); and suppose that S 2 is identical with <IP 1 , Str 2 , Mode 1 , Cont 1 , Prep 1 , Sinc 1 , Stresinc 1 >. Suppose further that Str 1 and Str 2 differ only in that 1 is stronger than 2. Then it will not be possible to perform S 1 without performing S 2 ; whence the former strongly illocutionarily implies the latter. (This definition of strong illocutionary commitment generalizes in a straightforward way to the case in which a set of speech acts S 1 , …, S n −1 implies a speech act S n .)

Searle and Vanderveken also define a notion of weak illocutionary commitment such that S 1 weakly illocutionarily implies S 2 iff every performance of S 1 commits an agent to meeting the conditions laid down in the septuple identical to S 2 (1985, p. 24). Searle and Vanderveken infer that this implies that if P logically entails Q , and an agent asserts P , then she is committed to believing that Q . These authors stress, however, that this does not mean that the agent who asserts P is committed to cultivating the belief Q when P implies Q . In lieu of that explication, however, it is unclear just what notion of commitment is at issue. It is unclear, for instance, what it could mean to be committed to believing Q (rather than just being committed to Q ) if this is not to be explicated as being committed to cultivating the belief that Q .

Other approaches attempt to circumvent such problems by reductively defining the notion of commitment in terms of obligations to action and liability to error and/or vindication. Performance of a speech act or set of speech acts can commit an agent to a distinct content, and do so relative to some force. If P and Q jointly imply R , then my asserting both P and Q commits me to R . That is not to say that I have also asserted R : if assertion were closed under deductive consequence I would assert infinitely many things just by virtue of asserting one. By contrast, if I conjecture P and Q , then I am once again committed to R but not in the way that I would have been had I asserted P and Q . For instance, in the assertion case, once my further commitment to R is made clear, it is within the rights of my addressee to ask how I know that R holds; this would not have been an acceptable reply to my merely conjecturing P and Q . Developing this theme, let S be an arbitrary speaker, <Δ l A l , …, Δ n A n , Δ B > a sequence of force/content pairs; then:

<Δ l A l , …, Δ n A n , Δ B > is illocutionarily valid iff if speaker S is committed to each A i under mode Δ i , then S is committed to B under mode Δ. [ 19 ]

Because it concerns what force/content pairs commit an agent to what others, illocutionary validity is an essentially deontic notion: It will be cashed out in terms either of obligation to use a content in a certain way conversationally, or liability to error or vindication depending upon how the world is.

Our discussion of the possibility of an illocutionary logic answers one question posed at the end of Section 6.3, namely whether it is possible to perform a speech act without intending to do so. This seems likely given Searle and Vanderveken’s definition of strong illocutionary commitment: We need only imagine an agent performing some large number of speech acts, S 1 , …, S n −1 , which, unbeknownst to her, jointly guarantee that she fulfills the seven conditions defining another speech act S n . Even in such a case she performs S n only by virtue of intentionally performing some other set of speech acts S 1 , …, S n −1 ; it is difficult to see how one can perform S n while having no intention of performing a speech act at all.

We are also in a position to make headway on Cohen’s Problem as formulated by Lycan. As argued in Green 2000, in an assertion of ‘I (hereby) assert that p ’, a speaker commits herself to p even though her words do not logically entail that Proposition; nor do they presuppose, or either conversationally or conventionally imply it. They do, however, illocutionarily entail it: anyone committed to ‘I assert that p ’ assertorically is thereby committed to p assertorically. By contrast, one committed to ‘I assert that p ’ as a supposition for the sake of argument is not thereby committed to p . Accordingly, such a phrase as ‘I assert that’ is semantically opaque (making a non-trivial contribution to the truth conditions of the sentences in which it occurs) but pragmatically transparent in the sense that a speaker who undertakes assertoric commitment to a sentence in which it has widest scope is also assertorically committed to its complement. Analogous remarks apply to ‘I conjecture that’ and the like.

In a paradigmatic illocutionary event, a speaker has a choice of which if any speech act to perform and her addressee will do her charitable best to discern that speaker’s intentions and, where necessary, which conventions she may be invoking. Pratt (1986) observes that this paradigm is not true to the facts of many areas of communicative life, writing

An account of linguistic interaction based on the idea of exchange glosses over the very basic facts that, to put it crudely, some people get to do more talking than others, some are supposed to do more listening, and not everybody’s words are worth the same. (1986, p. 68)

Although Pratt intends this remark as a critique of speech act theory, it also suggests a way in which this theory might shed light on subtle forms of oppression. We saw in Section 2.2 that a putative bet can misfire if it is not accepted. In such a case the speaker attempts to bet but fails in that effort due to a lack of audience uptake. So too, a person may not be in the correct social position to, say, excommunicate or appoint, and her attempts to perform such illocutions will misfire. More momentously, a pattern of abuses of speech act institutions might deprive a person of an ability to perform speech acts: the inveterate promise-breaker will, in time, lead others in his community to be unwilling to accept any promises he tries to make. He can perform countless locutionary acts but will be unable to perform the illocutionary act of promising, at least in this community.

A pattern of culpable behavior could make a speaker unable to perform one speech act type. Could a pattern of culpable behavior–intentional or inadvertent—on the part of others in a speaker’s community achieve the same effect? This could happen if enough such speakers decide never to accept one person’s bets, warnings, or promises. Beyond such hypothetical cases, it has been argued that patterns of social inequality can prevent members of certain groups from performing the speech acts they would choose to. Building on and refining McKinnon’s (1993) claim that pornography silences women, Langton (1993), and Hornsby and Langton (1998) argue that the industry and consumption of pornography deprive women of the ability to perform the speech act of refusing sexual advances. Refusing is a speech act, but if large enough numbers of men deny uptake (with such thoughts as, “By ‘no’ she really means ‘yes’,” etc.) then, these authors argue, women’s attempts to refuse sexual advances will be characteristically inert with respect to the speech act of refusal. Women will still be able to attempt to refuse sexual advances, and can still try to prevent them by physical means, but a crucial illocutionary form of protection will be closed to them. So too, apartheid, Jim Crow, and even patterns of discrimination of which the perpetrators are not consciously aware, can deprive racial, religious, and ethnic minority groups of the ability to perform speech-act types requiring uptake. These phenomena are generally referred to as illocutionary silencing .

Bird (2002) denies that the speech act of refusal requires uptake. Such an illocution is, he contends, like inviting and surrendering, which can occur whether or not their intended audiences grasp or accept the proffered illocutions. Similarly denying that the “silencing” argument should be cast in terms of speech acts, Maitra 2009 argues that the institution of pornography prevents speaker-meant instances of refusal from being understood. One can speaker-mean that she refuses, for instance, but patterns of cognitive and affective response will systematically prevent that refusal from being grasped. Broadening the scope of investigations of the interaction of injustice and illocutionary phenomena, McGowan 2009 argues that some speech acts can not only cause but also constitute instances of oppression. Anderson, Haslanger and Langton (2012) provide overviews of research on racial, gender and related forms of oppression as they relate to speech acts.

Although not inherently culpable, the practice of dogwhistling has also recently gained the interest of theorists of speech acts. As suggested by the metaphor, an agent dogwhistles just in case one or more dimensions of a speech act she performs is readily intelligible only to a proper subset of her addressees. Saul 2018 notes that in contemporary American politics, stating one’s opposition to the Supreme Court case of Dred Scott seems to be a way of signaling one’s anti-abortion sympathies. For those not in the know, however, a speaker’s opposition to the Dred Scott appears to be an uncontroversial act of rejecting racism. The phenomenon of dogwhistling provides an apparent challenge to conceptions of speaker meaning in terms of overtness, since the dogwhistler would seem to speaker mean a content that is cryptic to all but her insider audience: is her utterance both overt and covert? Instead of adopting such a view, one who construes speech acts in terms of overtness could refine the notion of manifestness occuring in her account. What is manifest to one addressee may not be manifest to another, and a speaker may exploit this fact. Accordingly, someone who avows, “I’m against Dred Scott,” may speaker-mean that she is both against Dred Scott and pro-life to one part of her audience, but only that she is against Dred Scott to another part.

Alston, W., 2000. Illocutionary acts and sentence meaning , Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
–––, 1994. ‘Illocutionary acts and linguistic meaning,’ in Tsohatzidis (ed.), pp. 29–49.
Anderson, L, S. Haslanger, and R. Langton, 2012. ‘Language and race,’ in D. Fara and G. Russell (eds.), Routledge Companion to the Philosophy of Language (London: Routledge), pp. 753–767.
Anscombe, G.E.M., 1963. Intention, 2 nd Edition. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Armstrong, D., 1971. ‘Meaning and communication,’ The Philosophical Review , 80: 427–47.
Asher, N. and A. Lascarides, 2001. ‘Indirect Speech Acts,’ Synthese , 128: 183–228.
–––, 2003. Logics of conversation , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Austin, J.L., 1962. How to do Things with Words , 2 nd edition, J.O. Urmson and M. Sbisá (eds.), Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
–––, 1970. Philosophical Papers , Edited by J. Urmson, and G. Warnock. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Avramides, A., 1989. Meaning and Mind: An Examination of the Gricean Account of Language , Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Bach, K., 1975. ‘Performatives are statements too,’ Philosophical Studies , 28: 229–36.
–––, 1994. ‘Conversational impliciture,’ Mind and Language , 9: 124–162.
––– and R. Harnish, 1979. Linguistic Communication and Speech Acts , Cambridge: M.I.T. Press.
Bell, M., 1975. ‘Questioning,’ The Philosophical Quarterly , 25: 193–212.
Belnap, N., 1990. ‘Declaratives are not enough,’ Philosophical Studies , 59: 1–30.
Bennett, J., 1976. Linguistic Behaviour , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Bertolet, R., 1994. ‘Are there indirect speech acts?’ in in S. Tsohatzidis (ed.) Foundations of Speech Act Theory: Philosophical and Linguistic Perspectives (London: Routledge), pp. 335–49.
–––, 2017. ‘On the arguments for indirect speech ats,’ Philosophia vol. 45, pp. 533–40.
Bird, A., 2002. ‘Illocutionary silencing,’ Pacific Philosophical Quarterly , 83: 1–15.
Brandom, R., 1983. ‘Asserting,’ Noûs 17: 637–650.
–––, 1994. Making It Explicit , Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Callon, M., 2006. ‘What does it mean to say that economics is performative?’ Working Paper Series , Centre de Sociologie de L’Innovation, Ecole des Mines de Paris.
Carston, R., 2003. Thoughts and Utterances , Oxford: Blackwell.
Clark, H., 1996. Using Language , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Cohen, L.J., 1964. ‘Do illocutionary forces exist?’ The Philosophical Quarterly , 14: 118–137.
Cohen, P., J. Morgan, and M. Pollack (eds.), 1990. Intentions in Communication , Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Cohen, T., 1973. ‘Illocutions and perlocutions,’ Foundations of Language , 9: 492–503.
Davidson, D., 1979. ‘Moods and performances,’ reprinted in Davidson (1984) Inquiries into Truth and Interpretation , Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Davis, W., 1992. ‘Speaker meaning,’ Linguistics and Philosophy , 15: 223–53.
–––, 2003. Meaning, Expression and Thought , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Dummett, M.A.E., 1973. Frege: Philosophy of Language. London: Duckworth.
–––, 1993. ‘Mood, force and convention,’ in his The Seas of Language (Oxford: Oxford University Press), pp. 202–23.
Forguson, L.W., 1973. ‘Locutionary and illocutionary acts,’ in G. Warnock (ed.), Essays on J. L. Austin , Oxford: Clarendon Press, 160–185.
Frege, G., 1879. Begriffsschrift in van Heijenoort (ed.) From Frege to Gödel: A Sourcebook in Mathematical Logic. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1976, pp. 1–82.
Frege, G., 1884. The Foundations of Arithmetic , trans. J.L. Austen. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
–––, Posthumous Writings H. Hermes, F. Kambartel and F. Kaulbach (eds.), Oxford: Blackwell, 1979.
–––, Philosophical and Mathematical Correspondence , G. Gabriel, et al . (eds.), Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
–––, ‘The thought: a logical inquiry,’ Collected Papers on Mathematics Logic and Philosophy , edited by B. McGuinness, trans. by M. Black et al ., Oxford: Blackwell, 1984.
Frye, M., 1976. ‘On saying,’ American Philosophical Quarterly 13: 123–127.
–––, 1973. ‘Force and meaning,’ Journal of Philosophy , 70: 281–94.
Geach, P., 1972. ‘Assertion,’ reprinted in his Logic Matters , Oxford: Blackwell: pp. 254–269.
Ginet, C., 1979. ‘Performativity,’ Linguistics and Philosophy , 3: 245–65.
Gorman, D., 1999. ‘The use and abuse of speech-act theory in criticism,’ Poetics Today , 20: 93–119.
Green, M., 1997. ‘On the autonomy of linguistic meaning,’ Mind , 106: 217–244.
–––, 1999. ‘Illocutions, implicata, and what a conversation requires,’ Pragmatics & Cognition , 7: 65–92.
–––, 2000. ‘Illocutionary force and semantic content,’ Linguistics and Philosophy , 23: 435–473.
–––, 2002. ‘The inferential significance of Frege’s assertion sign,’ Facta Philosophica , 4: 201–29.
–––, 2007. Self-Expression , Oxford: Oxford University Press.
–––, 2017. ‘Assertion,’ in Oxford Handbooks Online , Oxford: Oxford University Press, doi:10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199935314.013.8
–––, 2019. ‘Assertions,’ in M. Sbisà and K. Turner (eds.) Handbook of Pragmatics, Vol. II: Pragmatics of Speech Actions (de Gruyter-Mouton), 387–410.
–––, 2020, The Philosophy of Language , Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Green, M. and J. Williams, 2007. ‘Editor’s introduction,’ in Green and Williams (eds.) Moore’s Paradox: New Essays on Belief, Rationality and the First Person (Oxford).
Grice, H.P., 1957. ‘Meaning,’ The Philosophical Review 66, No. 3: 377–88.
–––, 1989. Studies in the Way of Words. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Hamblin, C.L., 1987. Imperatives , Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
–––, 1973. ‘Questions in Montague english,’ Foundations of Language , 10: 41–53.
–––, 1958. ‘Questions,’ Australasian Journal of Philosophy , 36: 159–68.
Hajdin, M., 1991. ‘Is there more to speech acts than illocutionary force and propositional content?’ Noûs , 25: 353–7.
Hare, R., 1970. ‘Meaning and Speech Acts,’ The Philosophical Review , 79: 3–24.
–––, 1989. ‘Some Subatomic Particles of Logic,’ Mind , 98: 23–37.
Harrah, D., 1980. ‘On speech acts and their logic,’ Pacific Philosophical Quarterly , 61: 204–11.
–––, 1994. ‘On the vectoring of speech acts,’ in S. Tsohatzidis (ed.) Foundations of Speech Act Theory: Philosophical and Linguistic Perspectives (London: Routledge), pp. 374–392.
Holdcroft, D., 1994. ‘Indirect speech acts and propositional content,’ in S. Tsohatzidis (ed.) Foundations of Speech Act Theory: Philosophical and Linguistic Perspectives (London: Routledge), pp. 350–64.
Hornsby, J. and R. Langton, 1998. ‘Free speech and illocution,’ Legal Theory , 4: 21–37.
Humberstone, L., 1992. ‘Direction of fit,’ Mind , 101: 59–83.
Katz, J., 1977. Propositional Structure and Illocutionary Force , New York: Crowell.
Kearns, J., 1997. ‘Propositional logic of supposition and assertion,’ Notre Dame Journal of Formal Logic , 38: 325–349.
–––, 1999. ‘An illocutionary logical explanation of the surprise execution,’ History and Philosophy of Logic , 20: 195–214.
–––, 2006. ‘Conditional assertion, denial, and supposition as illocutionary acts,’ Linguistics and Philosophy , 29: 455–85.
König, E. and P. Seimund, 2007. ‘Speech act distinctions in grammar,’ in T. Shopen (ed.) Language Typology and Semantic Description , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 276–324.
Lakoff, G., 1972. ‘Linguistics and natural logic,’ in Davidson and Harman (eds.), Semantics of Natural Language , Dordrecht: Reidel.
Langton, R., 1993. ‘Speech acts and unspeakable acts,’ Philosophy and Public Affairs , 22: 293–330.
Lewis, D., 1979. ‘Scorekeeping in a Language Game,’ Journal of Philosophical Logic , 8: 339–59; reprinted in Lewis 1983.
–––, 1980. ‘Index, context, and content,’ in Stig Kanger and Sven Ohman (eds.), Philosophy and Grammar , Dordrecht: Reidel; reprinted in David Lewis, 1998, Papers in Philosophical Logic, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
–––, 1983. Philosophical Papers (Volume I), Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Lycan, W., 2018. Philosophy of Language: A Contemporary Introduction , 3 rd edition, London: Routledge.
Maitra, I. 2009. ‘Silencing speech,’, Canadian Journal of Philosophy , vol. 39, pp. 309–38.
McDowell, J., 1980. ‘Meaning, communication, and knowledge,’ reprinted in Meaning, Knowledge and Reality , Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
MacFarlane, J., 2011. ‘What is assertion?’ in Brown and Cappelen (eds.) Assertion: New Philosophical Essays , Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 79–96.
McKinnon, S., 1993. Only Words , Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press).
McGowan, M., Tam, S., and Hall, M. 2009. ‘On indirect speech and linguistic communication: a response to Bertolet,’ Philosophy vol. 84, pp. 495–513.
Miller, J.H., 2007. ‘Performativity as Performance/Performativity as speech act: Derrida’s special theory of performativity,’ South Atlantic Quarterly , 106: 219–35.
Millikan, R., 1998. ‘Language conventions made simple,’ Journal of Philosophy , 95: 161–80.
Mulligan, K. (ed.), 1987. Speech Act and Sachverhalt: Reinach and the Foundations of Realist Phenomenology , Dordrecht: Martinus Nijhof.
Parret, H. and J. Verschueren (eds.), 1991. (On) Searle on Conversation , Amsterdam: J. Benjamins.
Pendlebury, M., 1986. ‘Against the power of force: reflections on the meaning of mood,’ Mind , 95: 361–372.
Portner, P., 2004. ‘The semantics of imperatives within a theory of clause types,’ in R. Young (ed.) SALT XIV : 232–52.
Pratt, M.L., 1986. ‘Ideology and speech-act theory,’ Poetics Today , 7: 59–72.
Recanati, F., 1987. Meaning and Force: The Pragmatics of Performative Utterances , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Reichenbach, H., 1947. Elements of Symbolic Logic , New York: Macmillan.
Reinach, A., 1913. ‘Die apriorischen Grundlagen des bürgerlichen Rechts,’ Jahrbuch fur Philosophie und phänomenologische Forschung , 2: 685–847.
Roberts, C., 2012. ‘Information structure in discourse: towards an integrated formal theory of pragmatics,’ Semantics and Pragmatics , 5: 1–69.
–––, 2004. ‘Context in dynamic interpretation,’ in Horn and Ward (eds.) The Handbook of Pragmatics , London: Routledge: 197–220.
Sadock, J., 1974. Toward a Theory of Linguistic Speech Acts , New York: Academic Press.
Saul, J, 2018. ‘Dogwhistles, political manipulation, and the philosophy of language,’ in D. Fogal, D. Harris, and M. Moss (eds.) New Work on Speech Acts , Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 360–83.
Sbisà, M., 2007. ‘How to read Austin,’ Pragmatics , 17: 461–73.
–––, 1995. ‘Speech act theory,’ in J. Verschueren, J. Östman, and J. Blommaert (eds.) Handbook of Pragmatics , New York: John Benjamins, 495–506.
Schiffer, S., 1972. Meaning , Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Schuhmann, K. and Smith, B., 1990. ‘Elements of speech act theory in the philosophy of Thomas Reid,’ History of Philosophy Quarterly , 7: 47–66.
Searle, J., 1968. ‘Austin on locutionary and illocutionary acts,’ The Philosophical Review , 77: 405–424.
–––, 1969. Speech acts: an essay in the philosophy of language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
–––, 1975. ‘A taxonomy of illocutionary acts,’ in K. Gunderson (ed.), Language, Mind and Knowledge , Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 344–369.
–––, 1979. ‘Indirect speech acts,’ in his Expression and Meaning: Studies in the Theory of Speech Acts , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
–––, 1983. Intentionality: An Essay in the Philosophy of Mind , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
–––, 1986a. ‘Meaning, communication, and representation,’ in R. Grandy and R. Warner (eds.), Philosophical Grounds of Rationality: Intentions, Categories, Ends , Oxford: Clarendon Press, 209–226.
–––, 1986b. ‘Notes on conversation,’ in D.G. Ellis and W. A. Donohue (eds.), Contemporary Issues in Language and Discourse Processes , Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates 7–19.
–––, 1989. ‘How performatives work,’ Linguistics and Philosophy , 12: 535–558.
–––, 1992. ‘Conversation,’ in H. Parrett and J. Verschueren (eds.), (On) Searle on Conversation , New York: Benjamins, 7–30.
–––, 1999. Mind, Language, and Society: Doing Philosophy in the Real World , London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson.
–––, and D. Vanderveken, 1985. Foundations of Illocutionary Logic , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Shoham, Y., 1993. ‘Agent-Oriented Programming,’ Artificial Intelligence , 60: 51–92.
Skinner, Q., 1970. ‘Conventions and the understanding of speech acts,’ The Philosophical Quarterly , 20: 118–38.
Smith, B., 1990. ‘Toward a history of speech act theory,’ in A. Burkhardt (ed.), Speech Acts, Meaning and Intentions: Critical Approaches to the Philosophy of John Searle , Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 29–61.
––– (ed.), 2003. John Searle , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Stalnaker, R., 1972. ‘Pragmatics,’ in D. Davidson and G. Harman (eds.), Semantics of Natural Language , Dordrecht: D. Reidel, 380–397.
–––, 1973. ‘Presuppositions,’ Journal of Philosophical Logic , 2: 447–457.
–––, 1974. ‘Pragmatic presuppositions,’ in M. Munitz and P. Unger (eds.), Semantics and Philosophy , New York: NYU Press, 197–213.
–––, 1984. Inquiry , Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.
Stenius, E., 1967. ‘Mood and language-game,’ Synthese , 17: 254–274.
Strawson, P., 1950. ‘On referring,’ Mind , 59: 320–44.
–––, 1964. ‘Intention and convention in speech acts,’ The Philosophical Review , 73: 439–60, reprinted in Strawson, Logico-Linguistic Papers , London: Methuen, 1971.
–––, 1970. ‘Meaning and truth,’ reprinted in Strawson, Logico-Linguistic Papers , London: Methuen.
–––, 1973. ‘Austin and “locutionary meaning”,’ in G. Warnock (ed.), Essays on J. L. Austin , Oxford: Clarendon Press, 46–68.
Thomason, R., 1990. ‘Accommodation, meaning and implicature: interdisciplinary foundations for pragmatics,’ in Cohen, Morgan and Pollock (eds.), Intentions in Communication , Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, pp. 325–364.
Tsohatzidis, S.L. (ed.), 1994. Foundations of Speech Act Theory: Philosophical and Linguistic Perspectives , London: Routledge.
Urmson, J.O., 1952. ‘Parenthetical verbs,’ Mind , 61(244): 480–496.
Vanderveken, D., 1990. Meaning and Speech Acts, Vols I and II , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Vendler, Z., 1972. Res Cogitans , Ithaca: Cornell.
Vlach, F., 1981. ‘Speaker meaning,’ Linguistics and Philosophy , vol. 4, pp. 359–91.
Watson, G., 2004. ‘Asserting and promising,’ Philosophical Studies , 117: 57–77.
Williamson, T., 1996. ‘Knowing and asserting,’ The Philosophical Review , 105: 489–523.
Dummett, M., 1996. Origins of Analytic Philosophy , Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Furberg, M., 1971. Saying and Meaning: A Main Theme in J. L. Austin’s Philosophy , Oxford: Blackwell.
Grewendorf, G. and G. Meggle (eds.), 2002. Speech Acts, Mind and Social Reality , Dordrecht: Kluwer.
Holdcroft, D., 1978. Words and Deeds: Problems in the Theory of Speech Acts , Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Lepore, E. and van Gulick, R. (eds.), 1991. John Searle and his Critics , Oxford: Blackwell.
Tsohatzidis, S. (ed.), 2007. John Searle’s Philosophy of Language: Force, Meaning and Mind , Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Warnock, G. (ed.), 1973. Essays on J. L. Austin , Oxford: Oxford University Press.
–––, 1989. J. L. Austin , New York: Routledge.

How to cite this entry . Preview the PDF version of this entry at the Friends of the SEP Society . Look up topics and thinkers related to this entry at the Internet Philosophy Ontology Project (InPhO). Enhanced bibliography for this entry at PhilPapers , with links to its database.

Research project in the philosophy of language , maintained at the University of Berne, Switzerland. This site is devoted to some main themes of research stemming from Grices’ work on speaker meaning and implicature.
Working Papers in Linguistics , University College London.
Question Under Discussion , collecting research germane to this approach to conversational kinematics. .
‘ Toward a history of speech act theory ,’ a paper by Barry Smith (SUNY/Buffalo).
‘ J.L. Austin ,’ an annotated bibliography by Guy Longworth, Oxford Bibliographies Online .
‘ Pragmatics ,’ an annotated bibliography by Mitchell S. Green, Oxford Bibliographies Online .

Accessibility

Support SEP

Mirror sites.

View this site from another server:

Info about mirror sites

Library of Congress Catalog Data: ISSN 1095-5054

More from M-W
To save this word, you'll need to log in. Log In

Definition of speech

declamation

Examples of speech in a Sentence

These examples are programmatically compiled from various online sources to illustrate current usage of the word 'speech.' Any opinions expressed in the examples do not represent those of Merriam-Webster or its editors. Send us feedback about these examples.

Word History

Middle English speche , from Old English sprǣc, spǣc ; akin to Old English sprecan to speak — more at speak

before the 12th century, in the meaning defined at sense 1a

Phrases Containing speech

acceptance speech
figure of speech
freedom of speech
free speech
hate speech
part of speech
polite speech

speech community

speech form
speech impediment
speech therapy
stump speech
visible speech

Dictionary Entries Near speech

Cite this entry.

“Speech.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary , Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/speech. Accessed 25 May. 2024.

Kids Definition

Kids definition of speech, medical definition, medical definition of speech, legal definition, legal definition of speech, more from merriam-webster on speech.

Nglish: Translation of speech for Spanish Speakers

Britannica English: Translation of speech for Arabic Speakers

Britannica.com: Encyclopedia article about speech

Subscribe to America's largest dictionary and get thousands more definitions and advanced search—ad free!

Play Quordle: Guess all four words in a limited number of tries. Each of your guesses must be a real 5-letter word.

Can you solve 4 words at once?

Word of the day, countermand.

See Definitions and Examples »

Get Word of the Day daily email!

Popular in Grammar & Usage

More commonly misspelled words, your vs. you're: how to use them correctly, every letter is silent, sometimes: a-z list of examples, more commonly mispronounced words, how to use em dashes (—), en dashes (–) , and hyphens (-), popular in wordplay, the words of the week - may 24, flower etymologies for your spring garden, birds say the darndest things, a great big list of bread words, 10 scrabble words without any vowels, games & quizzes.

Play Blossom: Solve today's spelling word game by finding as many words as you can using just 7 letters. Longer words score more points.

Daily Crossword
Word Puzzle
Word Finder
Word of the Day
Synonym of the Day
Word of the Year
Language stories
All featured
Gender and sexuality
All pop culture
Writing hub
Grammar essentials
Commonly confused
All writing tips
Pop culture
Writing tips

[ sich-oo- ey -sh uh n ]

The situation of the house allowed for a beautiful view.

Synonyms: site

a place or locality.

He is in a desperate situation.

The present international situation is dangerous.

a position or post of employment; job.
a state of affairs of special or critical significance in the course of a play, novel, etc.
Sociology. the aggregate of biological, psychological, and sociocultural factors acting on an individual or group to condition behavioral patterns.

/ ˌsɪtjʊˈeɪʃən /

physical placement, esp with regard to the surroundings
state of affairs; combination of circumstances
a complex or critical state of affairs in a novel, play, etc
social or financial status, position, or circumstances
a position of employment; post

Discover More

Derived forms.

ˌsituˈational , adjective

Other Words From

situ·ation·al adjective
situ·ation·al·ly adverb

Word History and Origins

Origin of situation 1

Idioms and Phrases

Synonym study, example sentences.

I believe this is likely what is happening with a data rights and ownership situation between Google and advertisers.

Both Sharon Whitehurst-Payne, the school board member who represents the area, and Barrera acknowledged the school did not handle the situation well.

To anyone who lives here, or anyone who’s watching, the situation is maddening and seems utterly unsustainable.

That’s certainly a situation that no one wants to be put in.

Other situations could give a magnetar a halo of electrons, but protons would come only from the magnetar itself.

Her slight miscalculation of how to fix the situation leads to her driving around the gas pump.

When the problem is already political, when the intolerable situation is the status quo?

The girls send a cry for help…the situation of these girls is distressing.

Among whites, the situation is also bad — in some ways, even worse.

She had no say in it, but now is being forced to deal with an already challenging situation in front of strangers.

We should have to admit that the new law does little or nothing to relieve such a situation.

In this situation we waited the motion of the enemy, without perceiving any advancement they made towards us.

He could not bear to open his dreadful situation to his Uncle David, nor to kill himself, nor to defy the vengeance of Longcluse.

He saw that the situation was worse than even he had bargained for, and all his irresolution began to return upon him.

And this fact seemed pregnant with evidence as to Gordon's state of mind; it did not appear to simplify the situation.

Related Words

Definitions and idiom definitions from Dictionary.com Unabridged, based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2023

Search Menu
Sign in through your institution
Browse content in Arts and Humanities
Browse content in Archaeology
Anglo-Saxon and Medieval Archaeology
Archaeological Methodology and Techniques
Archaeology by Region
Archaeology of Religion
Archaeology of Trade and Exchange
Biblical Archaeology
Contemporary and Public Archaeology
Environmental Archaeology
Historical Archaeology
History and Theory of Archaeology
Industrial Archaeology
Landscape Archaeology
Mortuary Archaeology
Prehistoric Archaeology
Underwater Archaeology
Urban Archaeology
Zooarchaeology
Browse content in Architecture
Architectural Structure and Design
History of Architecture
Residential and Domestic Buildings
Theory of Architecture
Browse content in Art
Art Subjects and Themes
History of Art
Industrial and Commercial Art
Theory of Art
Biographical Studies
Byzantine Studies
Browse content in Classical Studies
Classical Literature
Classical Reception
Classical History
Classical Philosophy
Classical Mythology
Classical Art and Architecture
Classical Oratory and Rhetoric
Greek and Roman Archaeology
Greek and Roman Epigraphy
Greek and Roman Law
Greek and Roman Papyrology
Late Antiquity
Religion in the Ancient World
Digital Humanities
Browse content in History
Colonialism and Imperialism
Diplomatic History
Environmental History
Genealogy, Heraldry, Names, and Honours
Genocide and Ethnic Cleansing
Historical Geography
History by Period
History of Agriculture
History of Education
History of Emotions
History of Gender and Sexuality
Industrial History
Intellectual History
International History
Labour History
Legal and Constitutional History
Local and Family History
Maritime History
Military History
National Liberation and Post-Colonialism
Oral History
Political History
Public History
Regional and National History
Revolutions and Rebellions
Slavery and Abolition of Slavery
Social and Cultural History
Theory, Methods, and Historiography
Urban History
World History
Browse content in Language Teaching and Learning
Language Learning (Specific Skills)
Language Teaching Theory and Methods
Browse content in Linguistics
Applied Linguistics
Cognitive Linguistics
Computational Linguistics
Forensic Linguistics
Grammar, Syntax and Morphology
Historical and Diachronic Linguistics
History of English
Language Variation
Language Families
Language Acquisition
Language Evolution
Language Reference
Lexicography
Linguistic Theories
Linguistic Typology
Linguistic Anthropology
Phonetics and Phonology
Psycholinguistics
Sociolinguistics
Translation and Interpretation
Writing Systems
Browse content in Literature
Bibliography
Children's Literature Studies
Literary Studies (Modernism)
Literary Studies (Asian)
Literary Studies (European)
Literary Studies (Eco-criticism)
Literary Studies (Romanticism)
Literary Studies (American)
Literary Studies - World
Literary Studies (1500 to 1800)
Literary Studies (19th Century)
Literary Studies (20th Century onwards)
Literary Studies (African American Literature)
Literary Studies (British and Irish)
Literary Studies (Early and Medieval)
Literary Studies (Fiction, Novelists, and Prose Writers)
Literary Studies (Gender Studies)
Literary Studies (Graphic Novels)
Literary Studies (History of the Book)
Literary Studies (Plays and Playwrights)
Literary Studies (Poetry and Poets)
Literary Studies (Postcolonial Literature)
Literary Studies (Queer Studies)
Literary Studies (Science Fiction)
Literary Studies (Travel Literature)
Literary Studies (War Literature)
Literary Studies (Women's Writing)
Literary Theory and Cultural Studies
Mythology and Folklore
Shakespeare Studies and Criticism
Browse content in Media Studies
Browse content in Music
Applied Music
Dance and Music
Ethics in Music
Ethnomusicology
Gender and Sexuality in Music
Medicine and Music
Music Cultures
Music and Culture
Music and Religion
Music and Media
Music Education and Pedagogy
Music Theory and Analysis
Musical Scores, Lyrics, and Libretti
Musical Structures, Styles, and Techniques
Musicology and Music History
Performance Practice and Studies
Race and Ethnicity in Music
Sound Studies
Browse content in Performing Arts
Browse content in Philosophy
Aesthetics and Philosophy of Art
Epistemology
Feminist Philosophy
History of Western Philosophy
Metaphysics
Moral Philosophy
Non-Western Philosophy
Philosophy of Action
Philosophy of Law
Philosophy of Religion
Philosophy of Science
Philosophy of Language
Philosophy of Mind
Philosophy of Perception
Philosophy of Mathematics and Logic
Practical Ethics
Social and Political Philosophy
Browse content in Religion
Biblical Studies
Christianity
East Asian Religions
History of Religion
Judaism and Jewish Studies
Qumran Studies
Religion and Education
Religion and Health
Religion and Politics
Religion and Science
Religion and Law
Religion and Art, Literature, and Music
Religious Studies
Browse content in Society and Culture
Cookery, Food, and Drink
Cultural Studies
Customs and Traditions
Ethical Issues and Debates
Hobbies, Games, Arts and Crafts
Natural world, Country Life, and Pets
Popular Beliefs and Controversial Knowledge
Sports and Outdoor Recreation
Technology and Society
Travel and Holiday
Visual Culture
Browse content in Law
Arbitration
Browse content in Company and Commercial Law
Commercial Law
Company Law
Browse content in Comparative Law
Systems of Law
Competition Law
Browse content in Constitutional and Administrative Law
Government Powers
Judicial Review
Local Government Law
Military and Defence Law
Parliamentary and Legislative Practice
Construction Law
Contract Law
Browse content in Criminal Law
Criminal Procedure
Criminal Evidence Law
Sentencing and Punishment
Employment and Labour Law
Environment and Energy Law
Browse content in Financial Law
Banking Law
Insolvency Law
History of Law
Human Rights and Immigration
Intellectual Property Law
Browse content in International Law
Private International Law and Conflict of Laws
Public International Law
IT and Communications Law
Jurisprudence and Philosophy of Law
Law and Society
Law and Politics
Browse content in Legal System and Practice
Courts and Procedure
Legal Skills and Practice
Primary Sources of Law
Regulation of Legal Profession
Medical and Healthcare Law
Browse content in Policing
Criminal Investigation and Detection
Police and Security Services
Police Procedure and Law
Police Regional Planning
Browse content in Property Law
Personal Property Law
Study and Revision
Terrorism and National Security Law
Browse content in Trusts Law
Wills and Probate or Succession
Browse content in Medicine and Health
Browse content in Allied Health Professions
Arts Therapies
Clinical Science
Dietetics and Nutrition
Occupational Therapy
Operating Department Practice
Physiotherapy
Radiography
Speech and Language Therapy
Browse content in Anaesthetics
General Anaesthesia
Neuroanaesthesia
Browse content in Clinical Medicine
Acute Medicine
Cardiovascular Medicine
Clinical Genetics
Clinical Pharmacology and Therapeutics
Dermatology
Endocrinology and Diabetes
Gastroenterology
Genito-urinary Medicine
Geriatric Medicine
Infectious Diseases
Medical Oncology
Medical Toxicology
Pain Medicine
Palliative Medicine
Rehabilitation Medicine
Respiratory Medicine and Pulmonology
Rheumatology
Sleep Medicine
Sports and Exercise Medicine
Clinical Neuroscience
Community Medical Services
Critical Care
Emergency Medicine
Forensic Medicine
Haematology
History of Medicine
Medical Ethics
Browse content in Medical Dentistry
Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery
Paediatric Dentistry
Restorative Dentistry and Orthodontics
Surgical Dentistry
Browse content in Medical Skills
Clinical Skills
Communication Skills
Nursing Skills
Surgical Skills
Medical Statistics and Methodology
Browse content in Neurology
Clinical Neurophysiology
Neuropathology
Nursing Studies
Browse content in Obstetrics and Gynaecology
Gynaecology
Occupational Medicine
Ophthalmology
Otolaryngology (ENT)
Browse content in Paediatrics
Neonatology
Browse content in Pathology
Chemical Pathology
Clinical Cytogenetics and Molecular Genetics
Histopathology
Medical Microbiology and Virology
Patient Education and Information
Browse content in Pharmacology
Psychopharmacology
Browse content in Popular Health
Caring for Others
Complementary and Alternative Medicine
Self-help and Personal Development
Browse content in Preclinical Medicine
Cell Biology
Molecular Biology and Genetics
Reproduction, Growth and Development
Primary Care
Professional Development in Medicine
Browse content in Psychiatry
Addiction Medicine
Child and Adolescent Psychiatry
Forensic Psychiatry
Learning Disabilities
Old Age Psychiatry
Psychotherapy
Browse content in Public Health and Epidemiology
Epidemiology
Public Health
Browse content in Radiology
Clinical Radiology
Interventional Radiology
Nuclear Medicine
Radiation Oncology
Reproductive Medicine
Browse content in Surgery
Cardiothoracic Surgery
Gastro-intestinal and Colorectal Surgery
General Surgery
Neurosurgery
Paediatric Surgery
Peri-operative Care
Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery
Surgical Oncology
Transplant Surgery
Trauma and Orthopaedic Surgery
Vascular Surgery
Browse content in Science and Mathematics
Browse content in Biological Sciences
Aquatic Biology
Biochemistry
Bioinformatics and Computational Biology
Developmental Biology
Ecology and Conservation
Evolutionary Biology
Genetics and Genomics
Microbiology
Molecular and Cell Biology
Natural History
Plant Sciences and Forestry
Research Methods in Life Sciences
Structural Biology
Systems Biology
Zoology and Animal Sciences
Browse content in Chemistry
Analytical Chemistry
Computational Chemistry
Crystallography
Environmental Chemistry
Industrial Chemistry
Inorganic Chemistry
Materials Chemistry
Medicinal Chemistry
Mineralogy and Gems
Organic Chemistry
Physical Chemistry
Polymer Chemistry
Study and Communication Skills in Chemistry
Theoretical Chemistry
Browse content in Computer Science
Artificial Intelligence
Computer Architecture and Logic Design
Game Studies
Human-Computer Interaction
Mathematical Theory of Computation
Programming Languages
Software Engineering
Systems Analysis and Design
Virtual Reality
Browse content in Computing
Business Applications
Computer Games
Computer Security
Computer Networking and Communications
Digital Lifestyle
Graphical and Digital Media Applications
Operating Systems
Browse content in Earth Sciences and Geography
Atmospheric Sciences
Environmental Geography
Geology and the Lithosphere
Maps and Map-making
Meteorology and Climatology
Oceanography and Hydrology
Palaeontology
Physical Geography and Topography
Regional Geography
Soil Science
Urban Geography
Browse content in Engineering and Technology
Agriculture and Farming
Biological Engineering
Civil Engineering, Surveying, and Building
Electronics and Communications Engineering
Energy Technology
Engineering (General)
Environmental Science, Engineering, and Technology
History of Engineering and Technology
Mechanical Engineering and Materials
Technology of Industrial Chemistry
Transport Technology and Trades
Browse content in Environmental Science
Applied Ecology (Environmental Science)
Conservation of the Environment (Environmental Science)
Environmental Sustainability
Environmentalist Thought and Ideology (Environmental Science)
Management of Land and Natural Resources (Environmental Science)
Natural Disasters (Environmental Science)
Nuclear Issues (Environmental Science)
Pollution and Threats to the Environment (Environmental Science)
Social Impact of Environmental Issues (Environmental Science)
History of Science and Technology
Browse content in Materials Science
Ceramics and Glasses
Composite Materials
Metals, Alloying, and Corrosion
Nanotechnology
Browse content in Mathematics
Applied Mathematics
Biomathematics and Statistics
History of Mathematics
Mathematical Education
Mathematical Finance
Mathematical Analysis
Numerical and Computational Mathematics
Probability and Statistics
Pure Mathematics
Browse content in Neuroscience
Cognition and Behavioural Neuroscience
Development of the Nervous System
Disorders of the Nervous System
History of Neuroscience
Invertebrate Neurobiology
Molecular and Cellular Systems
Neuroendocrinology and Autonomic Nervous System
Neuroscientific Techniques
Sensory and Motor Systems
Browse content in Physics
Astronomy and Astrophysics
Atomic, Molecular, and Optical Physics
Biological and Medical Physics
Classical Mechanics
Computational Physics
Condensed Matter Physics
Electromagnetism, Optics, and Acoustics
History of Physics
Mathematical and Statistical Physics
Measurement Science
Nuclear Physics
Particles and Fields
Plasma Physics
Quantum Physics
Relativity and Gravitation
Semiconductor and Mesoscopic Physics
Browse content in Psychology
Affective Sciences
Clinical Psychology
Cognitive Neuroscience
Cognitive Psychology
Criminal and Forensic Psychology
Developmental Psychology
Educational Psychology
Evolutionary Psychology
Health Psychology
History and Systems in Psychology
Music Psychology
Neuropsychology
Organizational Psychology
Psychological Assessment and Testing
Psychology of Human-Technology Interaction
Psychology Professional Development and Training
Research Methods in Psychology
Social Psychology
Browse content in Social Sciences
Browse content in Anthropology
Anthropology of Religion
Human Evolution
Medical Anthropology
Physical Anthropology
Regional Anthropology
Social and Cultural Anthropology
Theory and Practice of Anthropology
Browse content in Business and Management
Business History
Business Strategy
Business Ethics
Business and Government
Business and Technology
Business and the Environment
Comparative Management
Corporate Governance
Corporate Social Responsibility
Entrepreneurship
Health Management
Human Resource Management
Industrial and Employment Relations
Industry Studies
Information and Communication Technologies
International Business
Knowledge Management
Management and Management Techniques
Operations Management
Organizational Theory and Behaviour
Pensions and Pension Management
Public and Nonprofit Management
Strategic Management
Supply Chain Management
Browse content in Criminology and Criminal Justice
Criminal Justice
Criminology
Forms of Crime
International and Comparative Criminology
Youth Violence and Juvenile Justice
Development Studies
Browse content in Economics
Agricultural, Environmental, and Natural Resource Economics
Asian Economics
Behavioural Finance
Behavioural Economics and Neuroeconomics
Econometrics and Mathematical Economics
Economic Methodology
Economic Systems
Economic History
Economic Development and Growth
Financial Markets
Financial Institutions and Services
General Economics and Teaching
Health, Education, and Welfare
History of Economic Thought
International Economics
Labour and Demographic Economics
Law and Economics
Macroeconomics and Monetary Economics
Microeconomics
Public Economics
Urban, Rural, and Regional Economics
Welfare Economics
Browse content in Education
Adult Education and Continuous Learning
Care and Counselling of Students
Early Childhood and Elementary Education
Educational Equipment and Technology
Educational Strategies and Policy
Higher and Further Education
Organization and Management of Education
Philosophy and Theory of Education
Schools Studies
Secondary Education
Teaching of a Specific Subject
Teaching of Specific Groups and Special Educational Needs
Teaching Skills and Techniques
Browse content in Environment
Applied Ecology (Social Science)
Climate Change
Conservation of the Environment (Social Science)
Environmentalist Thought and Ideology (Social Science)
Natural Disasters (Environment)
Social Impact of Environmental Issues (Social Science)
Browse content in Human Geography
Cultural Geography
Economic Geography
Political Geography
Browse content in Interdisciplinary Studies
Communication Studies
Museums, Libraries, and Information Sciences
Browse content in Politics
African Politics
Asian Politics
Chinese Politics
Comparative Politics
Conflict Politics
Elections and Electoral Studies
Environmental Politics
European Union
Foreign Policy
Gender and Politics
Human Rights and Politics
Indian Politics
International Relations
International Organization (Politics)
International Political Economy
Irish Politics
Latin American Politics
Middle Eastern Politics
Political Theory
Political Methodology
Political Communication
Political Philosophy
Political Sociology
Political Behaviour
Political Economy
Political Institutions
Politics and Law
Politics of Development
Public Administration
Public Policy
Quantitative Political Methodology
Regional Political Studies
Russian Politics
Security Studies
State and Local Government
UK Politics
US Politics
Browse content in Regional and Area Studies
African Studies
Asian Studies
East Asian Studies
Japanese Studies
Latin American Studies
Middle Eastern Studies
Native American Studies
Scottish Studies
Browse content in Research and Information
Research Methods
Browse content in Social Work
Addictions and Substance Misuse
Adoption and Fostering
Care of the Elderly
Child and Adolescent Social Work
Couple and Family Social Work
Direct Practice and Clinical Social Work
Emergency Services
Human Behaviour and the Social Environment
International and Global Issues in Social Work
Mental and Behavioural Health
Social Justice and Human Rights
Social Policy and Advocacy
Social Work and Crime and Justice
Social Work Macro Practice
Social Work Practice Settings
Social Work Research and Evidence-based Practice
Welfare and Benefit Systems
Browse content in Sociology
Childhood Studies
Community Development
Comparative and Historical Sociology
Economic Sociology
Gender and Sexuality
Gerontology and Ageing
Health, Illness, and Medicine
Marriage and the Family
Migration Studies
Occupations, Professions, and Work
Organizations
Population and Demography
Race and Ethnicity
Social Theory
Social Movements and Social Change
Social Research and Statistics
Social Stratification, Inequality, and Mobility
Sociology of Religion
Sociology of Education
Sport and Leisure
Urban and Rural Studies
Browse content in Warfare and Defence
Defence Strategy, Planning, and Research
Land Forces and Warfare
Military Administration
Military Life and Institutions
Naval Forces and Warfare
Other Warfare and Defence Issues
Peace Studies and Conflict Resolution
Weapons and Equipment

< Previous chapter
Next chapter >

10 Speech Acts

Stephen C. Levinson is Director of the Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics, and Professor of Comparative Linguistics at Radboud University, Nijmegen. He is the author of over 270 publications on language and cognition, including the books Politeness (Cambridge University Press, 1987, with Penelope Brown), Pragmatics (Cambridge University Press, 1983), Presumptive Meanings(MIT Press, 2000), Space in language and cognition (Cambridge University Press, 2003), and has edited the collections (with D. Wilkins) Grammars of space (Cambridge University Press), (with M. Bowerman) Language acquisition and conceptual development (Cambridge University Press), (with P. Jaisson) Culture and evolution (MIT Press), (with N. Enfield) Roots of sociality (Berg), (with P. Lee), new edition of Language, thought, and reality: selected writings of Benjamin Lee Whorf (MIT Press). His current research is focused on the cognitive foundations for communication, and the relation of language to general cognition. He is a Fellow of the British Academy and the Academia Europaea and has received a 5–year ERC Advanced Grant in 2011.

Published: 07 March 2016
Cite Icon Cite
Permissions Icon Permissions

The essential insight of speech act theory was that when we use language, we perform actions—in a more modern parlance, core language use in interaction is a form of joint action. Over the last thirty years, speech acts have been relatively neglected in linguistic pragmatics, although important work has been done especially in conversation analysis. Here we review the core issues—the identifying characteristics, the degree of universality, the problem of multiple functions, and the puzzle of speech act recognition. Special attention is drawn to the role of conversation structure, probabilistic linguistic cues, and plan or sequence inference in speech act recognition, and to the centrality of deep recursive structures in sequences of speech acts in conversation.

10.1 Introduction

The concept of speech act is one of the most important notions in pragmatics. The term denotes the sense in which utterances are not mere meaning-bearers, but rather in a very real sense do things, that is, perform actions. This is clear from a number of simple observations:

utterances in conversation (and that is the only kind considered in this article) respond not to the shape or meaning of what was said, but to the underlying ‘point’ or action performed by the prior turn at talk, which might have been expressed in any number of ways;

utterances often have non-verbal counterparts (cf. waving to saying hello; bidding at auction by hand or voice);

utterances interdigitate with non-verbal actions in action sequences (cf. ordering a sandwich in a service encounter);

utterances have real-world consequences just like non-verbal actions (a $1,000 bid at an auction commits you to paying; saying you have nothing to declare in an airport can get you a big fine).

These actions are on a different ontological plane than the actions of the vocal organs in speech, which of course activate the motor cortex just as much as reaching for a glass—speech acts are more like moves in chess, whose meanings are circumscribed by rules and expectations. Trying to understand how utterances can have these abstract action-like properties, how they are coded linguistically, and how we recognize them are some of the core issues in this domain.

Despite the fact that speech acts are clearly central to an understanding of language use, they have been largely off the linguistics agenda since the 1980s. As is often the case in science, research on speech acts boomed for a little over a decade (in the 1970s and 1980s), and then went out of fashion without the most fundamental issues being resolved at all. Amongst these unanswered questions are: How many types are there, and are they universal or culturally specific? How are they expressed in language? And how are they recognized or attributed in actual language use? These questions are addressed in sections 10.3–10.9 below.

10.2 A Brief History of the Concepts Leading to the Current State of the Art

In philosophy of language during the 1930s and 1940s the picture theory of meaning, and the broader correspondence theory of truth, began to be challenged by theories of language use being developed by the later Ludwig Wittgenstein at Cambridge and the ‘ordinary language’ philosophers like Gilbert Ryle and J. L. Austin in Oxford. It is Austin who is usually credited with the first developed theory of speech acts, although his influential lectures ‘How to do things with words’ were not published until 1962 after his death ( Austin 1962a ). Austin took the view that philosophy of language had wrongly concentrated on statements, or even just propositions, and in doing so had lost track of what language is mostly used for. Rather, he claimed, utterances attempt to do things, and just like other actions can fail for a range of reasons. He catalogued the kinds of actions performed, by noting that most speech acts (however colloquially expressed) can be paraphrased in the normal form ‘I hereby V performative ’ where a delimited set of verbs like order, promise, warn, congratulate could appear. He also classified the reasons for success or failure of speech acts, dubbed ‘felicity conditions’, noting that they often require appropriate subjective states (later called ‘sincerity conditions’ by Searle) as well as appropriate circumstances (Searle’s ‘preparatory conditions’). In this sort of way all the reasons for my bid at Christie’s for a Picasso not succeeding (I am not a registered bidder, lack the funds, don’t succeed in getting the attention of the auctioneer, etc.) can be spelled out. Speech acts can be understood on the analogy of ceremonies, like marriage or toasting the monarch’s health—in the same sort of way they are conventional arrangements for creating new states of affairs, and consequently are in principle open-ended in kind. Austin went on to notice that these success conditions not only parallel truth conditions, but actually subsume them; statements are therefore just a special class of speech acts with sincerity conditions of belief and presuppositions or preparatory conditions that must also be met. He also went to some pains to clarify all the different senses in which actions could be said to be performed by utterances: the ‘locutionary act’ is the saying of the words with the intended meanings, the ‘illocutionary act (or force)’ is the speech act proper (ordering, advising, warning, etc.), and the ‘perlocutionary act’ is the further act or consequences that are context-specific and not part of the specific conventions invoked (e.g. by asking your advice I might flatter you). Austin also developed a number of notions whose importance was not immediately realized—for example, the concept of ‘uptake’ (the ratified receipt and recognition by a recipient).

Austin’s work was influentially systematized by John Searle (1969) , who connected the theory to sociology and jurisprudence on the one hand (speech acts are built as constitutive rules, whereby doing X counts as constituting a new state of affairs, like scoring a goal, or being guilty of a specific crime), and to linguistics on the other hand. Noting, following Hare (1952) , that the same propositional content could occur across speech acts (as in ‘Pass the exam’, ‘Did you pass the exam?’, ‘Good luck with the exam’), he added a ‘propositional content condition’, so that the felicity conditions together now effectively defined the speech act. He went on to suggest that an exhaustive typology of speech acts could be arrived at by clustering types of felicity conditions, so that there can be seen to be just five main types: representatives (statements and the like), directives (questions, requests, orders), commissives (threats, promises, offers), expressives (thanking, apologizing, congratulating, etc.), and declarations (like christening, declaring war, firing, etc. which rely on elaborate institutional backgrounds). Searle’s theory was well articulated and proved attractive to linguists, as recounted below.

Meanwhile, other philosophers took a more psychological view of language use, chief among them Grice and Strawson, who both thought that speech acts should be thought about as specific classes of intention, e.g. intentions to cause beliefs in addressees, or intentions to get them to do things. Grice ( 1957 , 1975 ) reconstructed the notion of meaning along these lines, and characterized the use of language in conversation as guided by rational action between partners. Although he never laid this out in print, it is clear that he thought that felicity conditions simply follow from the specific classes of intention: if I want to get you to pass the water by saying ‘Could you pass the water?’, it would simply be irrational if I didn’t want the water, if the water is not in your reach, if you are deaf or otherwise preoccupied. This intentional perspective was followed up by work in natural-language processing that related speech act recognition to plan recognition (see section 10.7 ).

During the period of generative semantics, linguists became increasingly interested in language usage and how sentences might encode aspects of the contexts in which they are used. Searle and other theorists had not concentrated on the actualities of speech act coding, presuming instead that illocutionary force is coded in the major sentence types (imperatives, interrogatives, and declaratives) and in the explicit performative verbs when so used—these would be the ‘literal illocutionary forces’ of utterances. But as any practical grammarian of English or other languages knows, in fact one has to learn idiomatic means of expressing speech acts. Gordon and Lakoff (1971) noted for the first time that ‘indirect speech acts’ could also routinely be expressed by querying or stating a felicity condition: ‘Do you need that pencil?’, ‘Could I have that pencil’, ‘Is that your pencil?’, ‘I’d like that pencil’ all query or state a precondition on requesting. They also noted that adverbials like please or frankly might force a particular speech act reading (as in ‘Please could we begin on time?’). There followed a large literature on indirect speech acts, investigating the forms used especially for requests across cultures, the psychological processing (indirect speech acts seemed to be processed without any complex detour through a literal meaning), and the politeness reasons for the mismatch between direct and indirect speech act coding. By the end of the 1980s, however, linguistic interests had moved largely elsewhere.

Meanwhile, a completely different approach, unrelated to the linguistic and philosophical traditions, was being taken in sociology, where the empirical study of conversation was being born in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Unencumbered by theory, the conversation analysts (Harvey Sacks, Manny Schegloff, and Gail Jefferson especially) were observing all sorts of fundamental organizations for interactive language use: turn-taking, repair, and sequence organization (see e.g. Schegloff and Sacks 1973 , Schegloff 2007a , and this volume ). In doing so, they were finding speech acts that had no vernacular names, no associated performative verbs or (it seems) special markings, for example pre-closings (e.g. the exchange of well s before goodbyes in phone calls), assessments (evaluations of shared events or things), repair initiators (like excuse me? ), pre-invitations ( What are you doing on Friday night? ), and so forth. Such actions (as the conversational analysts call them, treated here as equivalent to the notion of speech act) can only be understood against the background of sequential position—that is, where they come with relation to prior or following turns. Despite the fact that many observations have now accrued about the sets of actions and their sequential placement, little systematic theory about actions has emerged from this work (for a survey see Levinson 2013a ; Drew 2013 ).

Although this brief review cannot do justice to the extensive work that has been done in the different disciplines interested in speech acts (linguistics, psychology, conversation analysis) (see Levinson 1983 , 2013a ), it serves as a pointer to the state of the art. There is general acceptance of the importance of the subject, but little recent research that advances our understanding of the fundamental questions.

10.3 The Essential Insight and the Leading Issues

In contrast to the emphasis in modern linguistics on language as a device for an endless sound–meaning correspondence, J. L. Austin’s core insight was that the central function of language is not to deliver meanings but to deliver speech acts. For the core ecological niche for language, and still its primary use and the locus of its acquisition, is conversation. Each of us produces on average perhaps 16 000 words and 1200 turns at talk a day—and each turn delivers a speech act: all in all we are participating in exchanges with something like 5000 speech act moves a day. In order to respond on time (within the c .200 ms allowed by the turn-taking system; Stivers et al. 2009 ) we need to decode or attribute speech acts at lightning speed, because it is the illocutionary force, not the meaning, that we primarily respond to. One of the central puzzles is that speech acts are not for the most part simply or directly coded in the linguistic form: for example, Where are you going? could be an idle question, or a challenge, or a reprimand, or a prelude (a pre-) to a request for a ride or to an offer to give you a ride, and the relevant response depends on the correct attribution. How then are speech acts recognized in the tight time-frame allowed? Is there a finite list of possible action types, or can they be created de novo ? Further, as just illustrated, an utterance or turn can perform more than one action simultaneously: in asking a question ( Where are you going? ) the speaker could also be transparently performing a pre-request in such a way that the addressee can make an offer in next turn ( Downtown, would you like a ride? ). How many acts can be performed at once?

These then are the central puzzles in this area, to be taken up below. Faced with these difficulties, to which current research yields no definitive answers, it is tempting for linguistic theory to simply hand over the can of worms to some other discipline (conversation analysis, for example) as e.g. Bierwisch (1980) recommended. However, as discussed in section 10.8 , there is a substantial intersection of speech acts and linguistic structure, which makes the topic of central importance for e.g. the study of syntax. Usage and structure in fact go hand in hand.

10.4 The Nature of the Beast: Identifying Speech Acts

In this section we consider the problem of identifying and cataloguing speech acts, given some problematic properties, like their implicit character and non-one-to-one mapping onto utterances.

There are four (three basic and one related) approaches to identifying or characterizing speech acts. First, one could rely on natural metalanguage, as in English offer, request, invitation, greeting , and so on. Austin’s own tack here, recollect, was to do the lexicography of performative verbs ( I hereby declare/choose/delegate/promise/undertake/bequeath … ). But there are many reasons to distrust natural metalanguage. Many speech acts have no vernacular names (such actions as pre-invitations, continuers, repair initiators, and the like), as discovered by the conversational analysts. In addition, while written languages often have large metalanguage resources of this kind, unwritten ones often do not, and they may have speech acts alien to us. So natural language terms are a poor guide.

A second approach is the use of felicity conditions to characterize speech acts, as in classical speech act theory. A problem here is that taken as necessary conditions jointly sufficient to define speech acts, it is hard to specify them right. Thus the conditions for genuine information-seeking questions, exam questions, questions checking facts, and questions used in repair will all be subtly different—they form a loose family of speech act types not easily captured by a definitive checklist of conditions.

A third approach favoured by conversation analysts is to use the character of responses to identify prior actions. For example, if a range of utterances X–Y–Z are all immediately responded to by fellow interactants passing the speaker something, then prima facie X–Y–Z are requests. The observation is that many speech acts come in pairs (‘adjacency pairs’), with an initiating action having a characteristic response, as in greetings followed by greetings, offers by acceptances (or declinings), questions by answers, and so forth ( Schegloff 2007a ; Stivers 2013 ). Thus if one can independently characterize the responding action, one can type the eliciting action. Conversation analysts argue that this is how we check that we are understood—we expect a response of a certain type. Consider, the following example, where the response marked by thanks and excuses suggests that for B , A’s turn appears to have been an offer, though that is not obvious from its structure or content:

A fourth, related approach is to appreciate that an utterance gets parts of its identity from the sequential position it occupies. Consider the following tokens of the utterance Okay , each doing entirely different things (labelled here with the action codings used in conversation analysis—see Schegloff 2007a ):

One aspect of speech acts thus highlighted is that they are necessarily interactional in character. Consider a proposal (say about going for a walk together)—for success, the action depends on the uptake: it takes two to tango. This is a fundamental aspect of speech acts neglected in Searlian analysis—almost all speech acts are joint actions ( Clark 1996 ). 1

Most analysis actually makes use of all four of these different kinds of identifying properties, trading on our vernacular terminology, trying to tighten it up by defining criteria, considering how participants themselves respond to utterances, and noting how utterances play different roles depending on their positioning vis-à-vis other speech acts.

10.5 The Inventory and its Universality

A natural question is how many kinds of speech acts are there? The question presumes a level of abstraction away from the specific propositional content, which may of course be unique: it’s a question about how many types of illocutionary force exist. Austin suggested an open-ended list, convention-based, so cultural in nature. In contrast Grice (in unpublished work: Grice 1973 ; see also Schiffer 1972 ) had suggested that complex speech act types could be built up from the two propositional attitudes of wanting and judging. His target was the ‘moods’ expressed in the major sentence types, namely declaratives, imperatives, and interrogatives. Most languages grammatically code at least two of these, which could be taken as a hint of a cross-cultural core of basic speech acts. However it is moot whether these forms really code speech acts since they are in practice used for diverse action types, while other minor sentence types like English expressives more directly code for force (see section 10.6 ). But the idea that speech acts fall into classes of intention is persistent (see e.g. Tomasello 2008 ).

Searle, taking an intermediate position, has argued that there are in fact just five large classes of things one can do with language—five major speech act types. The classification uses three parameters: the ‘essential conditions’ (Searle’s term for the intentional goal), the sincerity conditions, and ‘direction of fit’ (whether the words copy the world as in statements or the world copies the words as in promises). Searle’s classes are representatives (assertion-like), directives (questioning, requesting, etc.), commissives (promising, threatening, offering), expressives (thanking, apologizing, etc.), and declarations (blessing, christening, etc., which rely on special institutional backgrounds).

Searle’s classification cannot however be exhaustive. First it fails to accommodate many of the actions noted by the conversation analysts (e.g. the continuer hmhm , the pre-s, the repair initiators and the repair responses, and so forth). Second, it is culture-bound. Consider the following exchange simplified and in translation from the language Yélî Dnye ( Levinson 2005 ):

This is an adjacency pair of a special kind peculiar to this matrilineal Papuan culture, in which men make jokes by alluding to some unfortunate accident or event that befell the other man’s father-in-law, to which the response must be immediate and in kind (B’s father-in-law killed his wife and then himself with a bush-knife, while A’s father-in-law died falling from a mangrove tree; they are ostensibly commenting on a man yelling down a megaphone). These utterances are paired father-in-law jokes and they don’t describe states of affairs or express the feelings of the speakers or otherwise fall within Searle’s taxonomy. In addition, Searle’s classification is of course a higher-order grouping of types, so it will not help us understand the specifics of action and response in conversation.

Austin or Searle’s armchair classifications are based on intuitions about salient types of speech acts. These are nearly always first parts of (base) adjacency pairs (see Schegloff 2007a , this volume )—that is, the initiating actions (like questions, offers, invitations) to which responses are due (even then, many such initiatory actions have proved relatively unavailable to intuition, like repair initiators, continuers, assessments, and the like). But the actions that lead in to these initiators (e.g. pre-announcements, pre-closings) or the responses themselves (e.g. answers, agreements, continuers, counter-offers), or the actions that interpose between first part and second (e.g. clarification questions) escape proper treatment in classical speech act theory. Consider (with arrowed action labelling):

Describing line (1) as a question would miss its basic function, namely to check whether a news announcement should be made; line (2) makes clear it should (note the what ); line (3) sets up the topic of the announcement in such a way than no announcement proves necessary, for the recipient guesses in line (4). Thus although (1) and (2) could be said to be questions that is not their main function, which is as preliminaries to an announcement (see Levinson 1983 : 345–364; and Schegloff 2007a for more on pre-s). Recollect as mentioned above that conversation analysts have emphasized that it is the character of the response, or the locus in a sequence, that plays a major role in giving speech acts their identities.

To return to the central questions of this section: Is there a finite set of speech act types, and if so how big is it? The answers are that we really don’t know. Is the set universal in character? Not in the sense that all speech acts are pan-cultural (witness Yélî Dnye father-in-law jokes, or any of the institutionally circumscribed acts like finding guilty, proposing toasts, declaring war, etc.), but it is an open question as to whether there is a pan-cultural core with such plausibly general functions as telling, questioning, requesting, greeting, agreeing, or initiating repair.

10.6 The Multiple Action Problem

One particularly troubling feature of the mapping of speech acts onto utterances is that such a mapping is not necessarily, or even mostly, 1:1. Sometimes turns at talk have more than one constructional component, and each part can perform an action, as in the previous example (4) above and in (5):

But often a single constructional unit (whether or not it exhausts the turn) can do more than one action (as in (4) where Didju hear the terrible news? might be said to be a question, but carries with it the obligation to tell the news, conditional on the answer ‘no’). Consider the following example from a verbal tussle between a mother and her 14-year-old daughter Virginia wanting more allowance or pocket money:

Viriginia’s proposal is responded to by a question-like response, which has the form of an other-initiator of repair or OIR (i.e. is initiated by the responder, seeking repair on the prior turn). But it is a prosodically incredulous OIR, adumbrating an upcoming challenge (call it a pre-challenge), which after a go-ahead, is duly delivered ( Just to throw away? ) but again in the form of a question inviting repair. That extreme formulation of the question in turn prefigures a rejection (call the turn then a pre-rejection), and gets a defence. And so forth. But now notice we have multiple layers of function for each turn—up to four actions packed into the one subclausal turn in Just to throw away !

The question that arises is whether there is any limit to the number of actions that a single turn can bear. Notice that some of these might merely be a matter of granularity of description, e.g. a special kind of question is often used to ask for repair. But that is not the kind of relation between the question and, say, the challenge: notice how the response deals with both. The literature acknowledges the existence of turns performing two actions: on one account, a ‘literal speech act’ is used to deliver an ‘indirect speech act’ ( Searle 1975 ), and conversation analysts talk about one action being the vehicle for one other action ( Schegloff 2007a ). But there is no explanation for turns that perform three or more actions (see, however, the suggestions in terms of plan reconstruction at the end of the next section).

10.7 Bottom-Up and Top-Down Inference in Speech Act Recognition and Attribution

Speech acts, it has been suggested, are not easy to individuate or identify, are not known to come from a finite or universal set, and can be laminated one on top of another. These are problematic properties. But an even greater problem is how they are recognized (more properly attributed 2 ) under the extraordinary time pressures of spoken conversation (or any other interactional use of language). Here we concentrate on the comprehension problem. As already mentioned, on average across languages the gaps between turns are on the order of 200–300 ms ( Stivers et al. 2009 ; Levinson and Torreira 2015 ). Given that the fastest response from conception to word takes 600 + ms ( Levelt 1989 ; responses of any complexity, e.g. three or more words, take 900–1500 ms or more to prepare), it is clear that speakers in conversation predict the end of the incoming turn in order to launch their own response on time. But that response must ‘type’ the incoming turn, as e.g. a question, request, statement, before it has finished in order to compose the relevant response and launch it so it comes out on time. Probably this is done on average about halfway through the incoming turn (see Magyari et al. 2014 ).

This makes the speed at which speech acts are attributed appear quite miraculous. For, as already made clear, the coding of speech acts is for the most part not directly marked: most syntactic forms, even whole constructions like Why don’t you … , are multi-duty ( why don’t you turns out to code proposals, advice, invitations, and complaints, while Do you want codes requests, invitations, offers, and so forth; Couper-Kuhlen 2010 ).

Speech act recognition is similar to any perception problem, where pattern has to be discerned and categorized out of noise. Both ‘bottom-up’ information (in the signal) and ‘top-down’ information (expected categories) are usually involved, and the noisier the channel the greater the role for ‘top-down’ factors. Let us consider them in turn. Bottom-up information is whatever clues to speech act type can be found directly coded or cued in the signal, by lexical choice, construction, or prosody. Given the turn-taking facts, it is clear that signals early on in a turn are going to be more important than signals at the end of turns, since by then the choice of response must have already been made. This suggests that effective cues will be ‘front-loaded’, coming early in the turn (see Levinson 2013a ). Here the cross-linguistic facts are curious. Take the grammar of interrogatives, associated (though not exclusively) with the illocutionary force of questioning. First, wh - or content interrogatives are only grammatically initial in about one third of languages ( Dryer 2011b ); however, this is the dominant single strategy since the alternative positions are various, and Dryer notes that only ‘a few languages exhibit at least a weak tendency to place interrogative phrases at the end of sentences’ (he mentions two out of a sample of 900 languages). These facts are in line with the ‘front-loading’ prediction from the psycholinguistic facts, but only as a tendency. The prediction would be that languages with late (right-located) wh - words would have developed compensatory cues like prosody or particles positioned earlier in the clause.

Second, take polar (yes/no) questions ( Dryer 2011a ). The commonest coding strategy (60 per cent of languages) is by particle, and of these about 30 per cent are in initial or second position; however the commonest position of particles is final (50 per cent of all particle types). It is worth noting, however, that 30 per cent of languages have no lexical or morphosyntactic coding at all for polar questions, relying solely on intonation or prosody. These facts do not seem to be in line with the ‘front-loading’ expectation. Further light is thrown on these issues by studies of usage in corpora. In a study of ten languages, we found that those sentence-final particles are omitted or absent 40 per cent of the time in Lao and 70 per cent in Korean ( Enfield et al. 2010 ); two of the languages lacked any coding (including prosodic); and morphosyntactic coding as in English inversion is also mostly omitted. One can conclude that polar-question marking must carry low functional load, wherever it is located. These usage studies also showed that interrogatives (whether content or polar) only perform the function of seeking new information about 30 per cent of the time; around 40 per cent of them are involved in repair or checking or confirming just-given information, and the remaining 30 per cent perform many different functions, including offers, requests, and so on.

To summarize so far: there is no one-to-one match of form to function. Even where apparently dedicated morphosyntactic machinery exists to code speech acts (as in interrogatives), the coding may be omitted: about 60–70 per cent (in various corpora) of English polar questions are unmarked declaratives in form, and do not carry rising intonation ( Geluykens 1988 ). Cross-linguistically, the tendency is for two thirds or more of all questions (in a broad sense) to be polar questions (unpublished data from Stivers et al. 2009 ). Even though wh - or content questions would seem to require a wh -form, this is not necessarily true; many languages have indefinite quantifiers that double as interrogative words, and many allow gaps to code the variable (as in John is going to _? instead of Where is John going? ).

There are then distinct limits to the bottom-up coding and inference of speech act force. Nevertheless, some detailed studies suggest that underlying the apparent many-to-many correspondences between utterance forms and speech acts there might be a clockwork system. For example, in a study of requests in English telephone calls, it was found that the Can you/Could you/Would you … forms are used for requests where the speaker has clear rights or entitlements and knows what the request would involve; where the entitlements are low and the contingencies involved less clear, the I wonder if form is preferred ( Drew and Curl 2008 ). This suggests that where multiple forms are available, they may each carry subtly different presuppositions about background conditions.

Nevertheless, it is more likely that the cues to illocutionary force are multiple and probabilistic in character. Indeed, there is now considerable work in natural-language processing (NLP) that seems to show this. This work takes speech corpora, usually from task-oriented dialogues, and tags them by hand with a very constrained set of speech act categories that seem to reflect the functions in each particular corpus. Machine-learning algorithms are then trained on a subcorpus, inducing the association between surface cues—lexical items, phrases, or intonation—and the pre-coded tags. The algorithm is then let loose on the rest of the corpus to see how well it emulates the human tagging. So, for example, it was found that ‘assessments’ (value judgements like ‘That was great’ that usually call for a response in kind) have quite restricted elements ( Goodwin 1996 ): that as subject in 80 per cent of cases, intensifiers really or pretty , and adjectives drawn from a short list including great, good, nice, wonderful … etc. ( Jurafsky 2004 ). So a combination (an unstructured list) of surface cues may be a crude but very effective trigger for speech act categorization: the chances of being an assessment given just one cue like really might be low, but in combination with that and great may be greatly increased. This would be just the kind of low-level associative process that could rapidly deliver probabilities of speech act assignment in comprehension, and since these cues are distributed throughout the turn, an incoming turn could be incrementally classified with increasing certainty.

Turning to top-down information, this includes all the accumulated contextual and sequential information that forms the niche for the incoming turn. For example, in service encounters, the goals for speaker and addressee will be largely pre-set, so that an utterance like Do you have coffee to go? can be understood directly as a request. In free conversation, though, the context is usually more local. One factor of constant relevance is the current state of the common ground between participants. We noted earlier that polar questions in English and many other languages are typically unmarked, and thus have the shape and often the prosody of declaratives. How then can they be understood as questions? As Labov and Fanshel (1977) pointed out, the recognition is done on the basis of knowledge asymmetry: thus You’re hungry is likely to be understood as a question, while You’re smart is likely to be interpreted as a compliment. Statements about what the other knows best are candidate questions, and this explains how a fifth of languages can do without any lexical or morphosyntactic marking of polar questions (prosody may often help of course, but in some languages it seems never to play this role; see e.g. Levinson (2010) on Yélî Dnye or Dryer (2011a) on Chalcatongo Mixtec). Epistemic asymmetry or symmetry is such a strong indicator that it can overrule interrogative marking: thus Isn’t it a beautiful day is not likely to be interpreted as a question, since we can all be presumed to have access to the weather. Heritage (2012) argues that epistemic status trumps question marking in all cases.

A second always relevant factor is sequential location in the sequence of turns. The power of sequential location to map illocutionary force onto utterances can be appreciated from a number of angles. Consider as a limiting case silence, where there is literally no signal, yet the silence can imply a response, as in the following example where the two-second silence is taken to imply ‘no’ and functions to block a forthcoming request:

The inference relies on the ‘conditional relevance’ of a second pair part and on the principle that dispreferred responses are typically delayed or mitigated. Another way to appreciate the power of sequence to attribute speech act force is to consider cases where ambiguities arise, as in the following example (8) where the arrowed turn is ambiguous ( Schegloff 1988 ). It could be a straight question, or it could be a pre-announcement—that is, an offer to tell conditional on the recipient indicating that he doesn’t know the indicated news. Note that the question force is not the ‘literal force’ (a question about knowledge), but a question about who is going. Pre-announcements often have this form (cf. Do you know the joke about the plumber? ) and the pre-announcement reading is encouraged by the context, where Russ had produced a pre-announcement just before in the first line, and Mom could be reciprocating in kind. The ambiguity comes about because both readings are salient in the context.

A related type of high-level information can also be brought to bear on the interpretation of a turn, namely an assessment of how the turn fits into the likely goal structure or plan of the speaker. For this is the inference schema we use to understand any sequence of actions: if you are sitting opposite and grasp your mug and lift it up, I’ll expect you to put it to your mouth and take a drink. The sub-actions I see (grasping the mug, lifting it) are preconditions to the action I infer (taking a sip), and seeing the initial parts I can make the metonymic inference to the whole. Interestingly, the same pattern of inference works for speech acts. Consider the following service encounter in example (9), where a precondition to buying pecan Danish pastries is queried, and the seller responds both to the question and the underlying request.

Notice however that no request has been issued, so how exactly does this work? Consider the analysis sketched in (10), in terms of customer C’s plans and the seller S’s reconstruction of them from the first utterance in the sequence. From Do you have pecan Danish today the seller can infer that this is a precondition on asking for some, therefore the request is likely to follow—given which the seller can truncate the sequence as she does, by responding to the foreseeable forthcoming request (in the dotted box in the figure in (10)). It is this projected request that gives Do you have pecan Danish today its pre-request flavour; in this way speech acts can acquire multiple actions mapped onto one turn by virtue of projectable next actions.

Notice this account explains why mentioning a felicity condition on a speech act is one way of performing that speech act (this is the classical theory of ‘indirect speech acts’, as in Searle 1975 ). But it has much wider application. Consider the telephone exchange in (11): the caller C in line 3 queries what the recipient is doing, which is a potential prequel to an invitation. The response in line 4 not only answers the query but at the same makes clear that there is no impediment to an invitation, thus projecting an acceptance. The lamination of actions throughout this sequence is straightforwardly explicable in terms of current action plus foreseeable next action, as sketched in the figure in (12).

The virtues of this mode of analysis become especially clear when one considers cases like the following where the main actions are projected, but never actually performed.

Here there is no feasible ‘indirect speech act’ in terms of classical felicity conditions: there is rather an indication of a predicament which would have an obvious solution, while the recipient produces an account for why the obvious solution cannot be performed. In the same sort of way, in example (6), Mom’s Just to throw away? performs four actions, as question, repair initiator, challenge, and pre-rejection because it is transparent that Mom intends to resist Virginia’s claim for more weekly pocket money by countering Virginia’s every move. Neither indirect speech act theory nor the conversation analyst’s notion of one action being the ‘vehicle’ for another (as in Schegloff 2007a ) can explain this kind of quadruple depth of speech act lamination on a single turn.

Plan reconstruction as an account of speech act comprehension was first advanced by Allen (1979) and Cohen and Perrault (1979) and applied to the problem of indirect speech acts by Allen and Perrault (1980) (see also Clark 1979 , Levinson 1981 ). These approaches in classical Artificial Intelligence style make use of the heavily intentional approach favoured by Grice and reviewed in section 10.1 , cranking through a calculus of desire and belief to arrive at a final ‘indirect speech act’ ( Cohen et al. 1990 ). The insights can be understood, however, in a slightly different way, in terms of an utterance being designed to reveal, variously, the whole or part of the iceberg of underlying interactional goals, where projectable next turns serve to laminate one or more ‘indirect speech acts’ onto the current turn.

Both bottom-up cues, which may be just probabilistic associations of linguistic features and speech acts, together with top-down factors like the role of sequence, epistemic asymmetries, and plan attribution, almost certainly play a role together in speech act comprehension. Curiously, cases where interlocutors misunderstand one another as in (8) are vanishingly rare. But there is no complete model of how these various kinds of information come together in action attribution.

10.8 Syntax, Sentence Types, and the Grammar of Speech Acts

We return now to the grammar of speech acts. We’ve noted that in general there is no one-to-one mapping between form and function. This is especially true of the ‘big three’ sentence types, declarative, interrogative, and imperative, which are probably best seen as carrying a very general semantics (e.g. a wh- interrogative expresses an open proposition with a blank constituent, which is why the same form may double as an indefinite expression in many languages). However, as discussed above under the rubric of cues, there can be many surface elements that will help to narrow down an illocutionary force. There are for example adverbs like please that unambiguously mark requests or pleadings, adverbs like obviously or frankly that mark statements ( Gordon and Lakoff 1971 ), and interjections like Wow, My God that mark exclamations. In addition there are minor sentence types that are indeed specialized for illocutionary force ( Sadock and Zwicky 1985 ). A classic case are exclamatives, where English has rich specialized constructional resources as in What a beautiful day!, That it should come to this!, Why, if it isn’t the trouble maker!, You and your linguistics!, Of all the stupid things to do!, To think I nearly won a medal! (well described in grammars like Quirk et al. 1989 ). Exclamatives are a category of some typological interest (see Michaelis 2001 , who defines them semantically and finds them often coded in quasi-interrogative or topic constructions or NP complements). Similarly, English codes wishes as optatives ( If only I’d done it, May the best man win, Oh to be in England ), and suggestions or proposals in special forms ( How about joining us?, What if you came earlier?, Let’s go, Why not have a drink? ). Many other languages have their own specialized forms for warnings, blessings, and the like. Unfortunately, studies of the usages of these forms are still few and far between, so we cannot be sure they are as specialized in usage as the grammars suggest—but it is an important subject for future research.

10.9 Conclusions—The Centrality of Speech Acts

The central function of language, it has been argued, is to deliver speech acts ( Searle 1972 ). The rest of the linguistic apparatus, with all of its complex syntax and propositional structure, is there to serve this purpose. For speech acts are the coin of conversation, and conversation the core niche for language use and acquisition. A retort might be that the central function of missiles is to target explosives, but this doesn’t help one understand much about the inner complex engineering of a missile—the outer function can be remote from design details, partly because there may be innumerable different engineering solutions that would answer the same function. Linguistics then would be effectively autonomous from the study of speech acts. What has been argued here, however, is that such a disjunction is unlikely to be tenable. First, language design has to accommodate to the tight constraints of conversation, so that speech acts have to be decoded early partly from bottom-up aspects of the signal—hence constructions of many different kinds serve this purpose, if often in a non-deterministic way. Second, the very clausal structure of language is almost certainly due to the tight turn constraints into which sentences must fit, where each turn must deliver at least one speech act. Third, whatever one’s views on the origin of language, short turns delivering speech acts were almost certainly a design feature of protolanguage—languages have evolved within this ecological niche, spinning complexity in the tight confines of the turn.

Another way to appreciate the centrality of speech acts in language design is to appreciate how many of the features we think of as most intimately connected to language structure are actually also exhibited in the sequential organization of speech acts. Consider recursion, argued by Chomsky ( 2007 , 2010 ) to be the most central design feature exclusive to language. Now consider that the clearest type of recursion, namely centre-embedding, is restricted in language to just two, occasionally three, levels of nesting. Karlsson (2007) found no examples of triple embedding in huge corpora, and just 13 in the whole history of Western literature; for spoken language, the limit is two. Since small numbers of centre-embeddings can easily be modelled with a finite state device, there is poor evidence for the need for phrase structure grammars here. Yet centre-embedding within discourse shows none of these limits, and is sufficiently multiple and routine to provide a much better basis for escalation to phrase structure grammars. Here is a simple example of one-degree centre-embedding:

Since this can be recursively elaborated, we could express the indefinite recursion by the rule: Q&A →Q (Q&A) A (Levinson 1981 , 2006 ; Koschmann 2010 ). The following shows an example with degree-three internal embedding (each level numbered), a level exceeding all syntactic embedding in spoken languages (the speech acts, or adjacency pairs, here relevant are request + compliance, question + answer, and two repair initiator + repairs).

It is easy to show that degree-six or more centre-embedding occurs in spoken dialogue (see Levinson 2013b ). When one finds a domain where a capacity is more evolved than in another domain, there is reason to assume that it has a longer evolutionary history. While short-term memory constraints are often invoked to explain our failure to produce centre-embedding in syntax, these do not seem to be a constraint in the interactive domain. This would suggest that linguistic recursion at least partly originates from this type of push-down stack in action sequencing, which as far as we know is universal in dialogue. Incidentally, it is also possible to show that cross-serial dependencies can be found in the sequential structure of speech acts, showing once again that complexity attributed to syntax may be more easily found in dialogue structure. All in all, a better case can be made for the need to climb the Chomsky hierarchy of grammars based on speech acts in dialogue than on syntactic structure.

For all the reasons outlined in this article, speech acts are a fundamentally important area of study in the language sciences. Work in this domain has been relatively, and inexplicably, neglected since the 1970s and 1980s, and it is time for a renaissance of work on speech acts and their use in dialogue. 3

A possible exception are ‘outlouds’ or ‘response cries’ like private exclamations ( Goffman 1978 ), which may be produced with or without an audience, but by definition without an addressee.

‘Recognition’ presupposes correct attribution that matches speaker intent, but since we are interested in the comprehension process which will include occasional misattributions, ‘attribution’ is the more accurate term.

My thanks to Penelope Brown and Kobin Kendrick for helpful comments on the manuscript.

About Oxford Academic
Publish journals with us
University press partners
What we publish
New features
Open access
Institutional account management
Rights and permissions
Get help with access
Accessibility
Advertising
Media enquiries
Oxford University Press
Oxford Languages
University of Oxford

Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University's objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide

Cookie settings
Cookie policy
Privacy policy
Legal notice

This Feature Is Available To Subscribers Only

This PDF is available to Subscribers Only

For full access to this pdf, sign in to an existing account, or purchase an annual subscription.

IMAGES

Rhetorical Situation: Definition and Examples
Classifications of Speech Situations ~ StudentNiche
Types of Speech Context
What is a Rhetorical Situation? (Definition, Examples, Rules
Speech Situation
What is Intrapersonal Communication? Types, examples, advantages

VIDEO

Oral Communication in Context
Harrison Butker's viral politically charged graduation speech situation
Harrison Butker's viral politically charged graduation speech situation
United States on Pakistani Freedom of speech situation #pakistan #pakistannews
‘Situation’, ‘position’ and ‘condition’
Fundamentals Of Public Speaking

COMMENTS

Speech situation Definition & Meaning
The meaning of SPEECH SITUATION is an instance of communication having as prerequisites a speaker, an utterance, and a hearer who interprets the utterance.
The ideal speech situation (Chapter 2)
The ideal speech situation is one of Habermas' best-known concepts. It is arguably the topic most cited in theological works that consider Habermas, and it is principally for this reason that it is treated first. Theologians also tend to appeal to the ideal speech situation as if it were one of Habermas' most enduring contributions to an ethics ...
Chapter 10: The Rhetorical Situation
The rhetorical situation is a framework for rhetorical analysis designed for individual speeches and assessing their reception by an audience. This chapter offers a detailed explanation of the rhetorical situation and defines its core components: the exigence, the audience, and constraints. The second section of the chapter provides detailed ...
Approaching the Speaking Situation: Audience, Occasion, Purpose
Purpose. Speakers hope to accomplish general and specific purposes when they communicate. For most speaking in college and beyond, there are two general purposes: to inform or to persuade. The line between informing and persuading is not absolute, and many speeches will do some of both. Nonetheless, they are useful guides for speakers.
The Speech Communication Process
The final component within the speech process is feedback. While some might assume that the speaker is the only one who sends a message during a speech, the reality is that the listeners in the audience are sending a message of their own, called feedback . Often this is how the speaker knows if s/he is sending an effective message. Occasionally ...
Ideal speech situation
An ideal speech situation was a term introduced in the early philosophy of Jürgen Habermas. It argues that an ideal speech situation is found when communication between individuals is governed by basic, implied rules. In an ideal speech situation, participants would be able to evaluate each other's assertions solely on the basis of reason ...
Rhetorical Situation: Definition and Examples
A rhetorical situation is the context of a rhetorical act, made up—at a minimum—of a rhetor, an issue (or exigence), a medium, and an audience. ... Each of these elements has an impact on the eventual outcome of any rhetorical situation. If a speech is poorly written, it may be impossible to persuade the audience of its validity or worth ...
What is the Rhetorical Situation?
Bitzer's theory of the rhetorical situation affirms the tenets of positivism: (1) An objective reality exists independent of humans that can be discerned by humans. (2) There is a direct relationship between situation and discourse-i.e., that specific situations call for specific responses. In contrast, rhetorical theory, postmodernism ...
3.6: The Speech Communication Process
Speaker. As you might imagine, the speaker is the crucial first element within the speech communication process. Without a speaker, there is no process. The speaker is simply the person who is delivering, or presenting, the speech. A speaker might be someone who is training employees in your workplace. Your professor is another example of a ...
Ideal Speech Situation (46.)
46. - Ideal Speech Situation. from I - Terms. Published online by Cambridge University Press: 29 March 2019 By. David Rasmussen. Edited by. Amy Allen and. Eduardo Mendieta. Show author details Amy Allen Affiliation: Pennsylvania State University. Eduardo Mendieta Affiliation: Pennsylvania State University.
Ideal speech situation
Other articles where ideal speech situation is discussed: democracy: Habermas: …what he called an "ideal speech situation." In such a situation, participants would be able to evaluate each other's assertions solely on the basis of reason and evidence in an atmosphere completely free of any nonrational "coercive" influences, including both physical and psychological coercion.
What is a Rhetorical Situation? (Definition, Examples, Rules)
A piece of writing or a speech is influenced by its creator's background, beliefs, interests, and values. Readers interpret the text or speech by considering the circumstances out of which it arises. The rhetorical situation offers an understanding of how readers and writers relate to each other through the written or spoken medium.
The 5 Different Types of Speech Styles
4 Factors That Influence Speech Styles. Although knowing the definition and some examples of situations in which each speech style might apply is helpful, there are four important factors that are key in speech styles. These factors help the speakers understand when it is appropriate to use one style instead of the other. They are: 1. The Setting
11.2 Persuasive Speaking
Foundation of Persuasion. Persuasive speaking seeks to influence the beliefs, attitudes, values, or behaviors of audience members. In order to persuade, a speaker has to construct arguments that appeal to audience members. Arguments form around three components: claim, evidence, and warrant. The claim is the statement that will be supported by ...
Methods of Speech Delivery
A memorized speech is also fully prepared in advance and one in which the speaker does not use any notes. In the case of an occasion speech like a quick toast, a brief dedication, or a short eulogy, word-for-word memorization might make sense. Usually, though, it doesn't involve committing each and every word to memory, Memorizing a speech ...
The Components of Speech Events and Speech Situation
THE BACKGROUND OF THE STUDY Speech Event is the occurrence or ongoing linguistic interaction in one form of speech or more that involves two parties namely speakers and opponents of speech, with one point of speech in a particular time, place and situation [1], based on the explanation which was intended by the speech event was the ongoing ...
Rhetorical situation
The rhetorical situation is an event that consists of an issue, an audience, and a set of constraints. A rhetorical situation arises from a given context or exigence. An article by Lloyd Bitzer introduced the model of the rhetorical situation in 1968, which was later challenged and modified by Richard E. Vatz (1973) and Scott Consigny (1974). More recent scholarship has further redefined the ...
Speech Acts
The latter (but not the former) is a case of speaker meaning. Accordingly, a speech act is a type of act that can be performed by speaker meaning that one is doing so. This conception still counts resigning, promising, asserting and asking as speech acts, while ruling out convincing, insulting and whispering.
Situation Definition & Meaning
situation: [noun] the way in which something is placed in relation to its surroundings. site. locality.
Political philosophy
Political philosophy - Habermas, Discourse, Rationality: In works published from the 1960s, the German philosopher Jürgen Habermas attempted to expand the scope of critical theory by incorporating ideas from contemporary analytic philosophy, in particular the speech act theory developed by J.L. Austin and his student John Searle. Habermas argued that human beings have a fundamental interest ...
Speech Definition & Meaning
speech: [noun] the communication or expression of thoughts in spoken words. exchange of spoken words : conversation.
SITUATION Definition & Meaning
Situation definition: manner of being situated; location or position with reference to environment. See examples of SITUATION used in a sentence.
Speech Acts
The essential insight of speech act theory was that when we use language, we perform actions—in a more modern parlance, core language use in interaction is a form of joint action. Over the last thirty years, speech acts have been relatively neglected in linguistic pragmatics, although important work has been done especially in conversation ...
Situational Interview Questions: Definition + How to Prepare
Situational interview questions ask interviewees to explain how they would react to hypothetical questions in the future. In contrast, behavioural interview questions ask interviewees to explain how they have dealt with actual situations in the past. As a result, situational interview questions will allow you to paint a picture of how you might ...

The Speech Communication Process

Interference

Share This Book

What is a Rhetorical Situation?

The History of Rhetoric

Fast Facts: Aristotle's Five Core Concepts of Rhetoric

Elements of a Rhetorical Situation

The Audience

Table of Contents

What is the Rhetorical Situation?

Why Does the Rhetorical Situation Matter?

What is Rhetorical Analysis?

Loyd Bitzer’s Rhetorical Model

The Ecological Model

The Psychological Model

So, on the Topic of the Rhetorical Situation, What’s Next?

Related Articles:

Audience Awareness - How To Boost Clarity in Communications

Occasion, Exigency, Kairos - How to Decode Meaning-Making Practices

Perspective - What is the Role of Perspective in Reading & Writing?

Purpose - Aim of Discourse - Intention

Text - Composition

Featured Articles

Academic Writing – How to Write for the Academic Community

Professional Writing – How to Write for the Professional World

Credibility & Authority – How to Be Credible & Authoritative in Speech & Writing

Margin Size

3.6: The Speech Communication Process

Interference

What is a Rhetorical Situation? (Definition, Examples, Rules)

What is a rhetorical situation?

How do you find the rhetorical situation?

Purpose

Context

What is an example of a rhetorical situation?

Use rhetorical analysis to shape messages and gain a detailed understanding of content

Core lessons

Popular lessons

Stay awhile. Your weekly dose of grammar and English fun.

The 5 Different Types of Speech Styles

The 5 Different Types of Speech Styles (Table)

1. Frozen Style (or Fixed speech)

2. Formal Style

3. Consultative Style

4. Casual Style (or Informal Style)

5. Intimate Style

The 4 Methods or Types of Speech Delivery

What Makes a Great Presenter? 9 Key Qualities to Look for!

An Easy Guide to All 15 Types of Speech

1. The Setting

2. The Participants

3. The Topic

4. The Purpose of The Discourse or Conversation

Speaker Styles

What’s The Importance of Speech Styles In Communication

Further Readings

Similar Posts

Extemporaneous Presentation: Definition and Actionable tips

Why Mastering Public Speaking Skills Will Improve Your Life – 4 Examples.

An Engaging Business presentation? Read This!

8 Simple Ways to Work out some Self-Confidence to Speak in Public

How to Create a Mind Map to Organize and Remember your Presentation

How to Become a Confident Public Speaker – 6 Tips

11.2 Persuasive Speaking

Foundation of Persuasion

Choosing a Persuasive Speech Topic

Adapting Persuasive Messages

Determining Your Proposition

“Getting Critical”

Organizing a Persuasive Speech

Key Takeaways

Module 6: Organizing and Outlining Your Speech

Public Speaking in History

How to: memorize a speech

Extemporaneous

The Components of Speech Events and Speech Situation

Related Papers

RELATED PAPERS

Bibliography

Speech Acts