Argument Part questions are relatively easy to identify because they pull an excerpt directly from the stimulus and include it in the stem. They then ask us to describe, in abstract terms, the role that excerpt plays in the argument.

At minimum, these questions demand the ability to break arguments down into their component parts, the most basic of which are premises and conclusions (including sub-conclusions and major premises), and context. You’ll also need familiarity with the variety of abstract phrases we (that is: lawyers, philosophers, and the LSAT’s writers) use to describe those parts, because the answer choices themselves are written in abstract language. The ability to recognize some of the common argument forms won’t go amiss either.

Don’t pay too much attention to the excerpt at first – it won’t make much sense without context. Instead, approach the stimulus with an eye toward developing an abstract model of the entire argument. With your model in hand, return to the question stem again, read the excerpt carefully, and ask yourself where in the model it fits.

As mentioned, the answer choices are written in abstract language. They also use lots of referential phrasing. When an answer choice says “It is an analogy used to undermine an opponent’s example,” you need to know what an analogy is, you need to tether the words “opponent” and “example” to concrete parts of the stimulus, and you need to make sure your analogy really does undermine the opponent’s example.

Here’s the good stuff right up front. This argument is running what we call a reductio ad absurdum. Remember that phrase for law school! It’s a very common and exceptionally powerful argumentative strategy, both in the law and elsewhere, and in legal opinions it’s often referred to by name. Reductio 👏 Ad 👏 Absurdum

So ok wtf does it mean? Well the phrase is Latin for “reduction to absurdity,” and it’s an apt moniker: arguments by reductio show that an opposing viewpoint leads to absurd consequences, then conclude we must reject that viewpoint. Here’s an example:

You say no one looks good in a fedora. But look at this picture of Frank Sinatra wearing a fedora! If you were right, that would mean Frank Sinatra does not look good in this picture. But you and I both agree that’s absurd. So you must be wrong.

The stimulus begins by presenting an opposing viewpoint (those dastardly “Some” are at it again arguing stuff). Their view is a conditional claim:

Some: IF a time comes when we must think about computers using beliefs and desires, THEN we can say they have beliefs and desires.

Our author then responds “That time is NOW, my friends!” and then uses the opponents’ own logic to draw an inference:

Author: So according to your view, we can say our current computers have beliefs and desires!

Then comes our author’s conclusion:

Author: Your view is obviously wrong.

Notably, this argument makes a key assumption: for the reductio to work, everyone needs to agree that it would be absurd to claim that our current computers have beliefs and desires. So absurd, in fact, that we should abandon any viewpoint that forces us to make that claim.

Even though the author never explicitly says “That is absurd,” the argument nevertheless relies on it – the only way the argument would make sense is if we all took that claim as absurd.

Let’s look back at the excerpt: the computers that exist now have beliefs and desires.

This is the inference the author draws using the opponents’ own logic. An inference which they view as so obviously absurd that we should all agree the opponents must be wrong.

(Side note on “criterion”: This is just the singular version of the word “criteria.” Criteria are the standards we use to make various judgements. Your LSAT score, for example, is a criterion used in law school admissions. In this stimulus, “some” people see [it being necessary to think about computers in terms of beliefs and desires] as a criterion for when we can say computers have beliefs and desires.)