There’s a particular kind of professional nightmare that haunts even the most capable among us. Your VP asks what you think about the new roadmap. A client questions your recommendation mid-presentation. A stakeholder challenges your technical approach in front of the team. And suddenly — nothing. Your mind goes blank.
I fear if I cannot think again, if my mind suddenly goes blank. It will be embarrassing. - Goenawan Mohamad, Indonesian Poet
It’s not stupidity. It’s something more unsettling: intelligence locked behind a sudden wall of static. Inside, ideas flicker just out of reach, like fish darting away when you reach into the water. Outwardly, you freeze — caught between wanting to respond and being terrified that whatever comes out will sound foolish. Your face feels hot, your throat tight, and time seems to stretch indecently long. You become acutely self-aware — every blink, every second of silence amplified. The conversation moves on without you, but your mind stays stuck at the intersection of “I should’ve said something” and “why couldn’t I?”
It’s the intellectual version of tripping in public. You know you’re capable of better. Your past arguments and clever insights replay in your head later like taunts. But in that moment, all eloquence deserts you, leaving only the hollow throb of panic and the dull ache of missed opportunity. It’s the freeze between wit and will — when you want to think, but your brain is too busy trying to survive.
The Real Problem
Here’s what makes this particularly frustrating: this isn’t a failure of intelligence. You’re smart. You’ve shipped products, solved complex technical problems, navigated organizational politics. But intelligence alone doesn’t prevent the freeze.
What’s missing is systematic rhetorical preparedness. We’re trained in technical skills — how to write code, design systems, manage backlogs, analyze metrics. But we’re rarely taught the fundamental skill that ancient professionals mastered: how to think about any question systematically, on demand, in real time.
The cost of this gap compounds silently. Missed opportunities to influence decisions. Lost credibility in crucial moments. The slow realization that the people who advance aren’t always the smartest in the room — they’re the ones who can articulate their intelligence when it matters.
What the Ancients Knew - Topics
Two thousand years ago, Roman rhetoricians discovered something remarkable: there are only a handful of ways to think about any subject. They called these patterns “topics” — from the Greek topoi, meaning “places.” Think of them as mental chambers where different types of arguments live, waiting to be called upon.
The brilliance of topics isn’t that they give you canned speeches to memorize. Rather, they provide a systematic way to generate arguments about anything. When a question catches you off-guard, topics transform panic into process. Your mind doesn’t search desperately for something to say. Instead, it methodically surveys the landscape: Can I argue from definition? From cause and effect? From comparison?
Let me show you how this works in practice.
The Seven Essential Topics
- From Definition: What exactly is the thing we’re discussing? This is your anchor point. By clarifying what something means, you demonstrate thoughtfulness, buy yourself time, and often reveal that the question itself needs refinement.
Ancient example: “What is a just war? A just war defends against aggression or protects allies. Milan has broken treaties - therefore this IS a just war by definition.”
Corporate example: “When you say this approach isn’t ‘enterprise-ready,’ let’s clarify what that means. Are we talking about security compliance, multi-tenancy support, or deployment flexibility? Each has different implications for our roadmap.”
- From Cause and Effect: What produces this result? What will this decision produce? Trace effects forward or causes backward to reveal the chain of consequences.
Ancient example: “If we attack Milan now, we secure our trade routes. If we delay, Milan grows stronger and threatens us later. The cause of action today prevents worse effects tomorrow.”
Corporate example: “If we prioritize backward compatibility now, we’ll maintain current user satisfaction but accumulate technical debt that will slow our velocity by an estimated 30% over the next two quarters. If we break compatibility, we’ll alienate 15% of our user base but enable the architectural improvements that make our next three features possible.”
- From Comparison: How does this relate to alternatives? Greater, lesser, or equal? This topic makes trade-offs explicit and shields you from the perfect being the enemy of the good.
Ancient example: “Milan’s army is larger, true - but our treasury is greater, our alliances stronger, our generals more experienced. We are superior in what matters most.”
Corporate example: “Compared to Competitor X’s approach, ours has lower initial performance but significantly better maintainability. Given our team size and the complexity of this domain, maintainability is the superior bet.”
- From Circumstances: The who, what, where, when, why, and how of the situation. Context demonstrates that you understand the constraints and realities of execution, not just theory.
Ancient example: “Who benefits from peace? Only Milan, who uses it to rearm. When should we act? Now, before winter. Where is the battleground? Better in their territory than ours.”
Corporate example: “Given our Q4 deadline, the current team’s expertise in Python versus Rust, and the fact that we’re already maintaining three other services, a Python implementation is the pragmatic choice — even if Rust would theoretically offer better performance.”
- From Testimony: What do authorities, data, or consensus say? When your own authority feels shaky, borrow from sources that carry weight.
Ancient example: “Cicero himself wrote that delay in the face of tyranny is cowardice. Our own generals advise action. The people demand it.”
Corporate example: “Our A/B test data shows a 23% improvement in conversion with the simpler flow. Additionally, Nielsen Norman Group’s research on form usability supports this approach. We’re not just following our intuition here.”
- From Division: Break the problem into its component parts. When a question feels overwhelming, division transforms it into manageable pieces.
Ancient example: “Let us separate this into three questions: the diplomatic consequences, the military strategy, and the economic impact. We can resolve the first while still debating the third.”
Corporate example: “Let’s separate the authentication problem into three parts: initial user onboarding, session management, and password recovery. Each has different security and UX requirements. We can make progress on the first while we’re still debating the third.”
- From Contradiction: These two things cannot both be true — which matters more? Highlighting contradictions forces clarity and choice.
Ancient example: “Milan claims to seek peace while massing troops at our border. These two things cannot both be true - they reveal their deception!”
Corporate example: “We’re being asked to ship faster while also increasing test coverage. These goals contradict each other in the short term. If velocity is the priority right now, we need to accept temporarily lower coverage. If quality is paramount, we need to extend the timeline.”The Transformation
Here’s what changes when you internalize these patterns: the freeze melts. Not because you’ve memorized answers, but because you’ve trained your mind to have a system when panic strikes.
When that VP asks for your opinion, your brain doesn’t flail. It runs a quick diagnostic: Should I start with definition to clarify what we’re really discussing? With cause and effect to show consequences? With comparison to alternatives? With circumstances to ground us in reality?
You become the person who always seems to have something intelligent to say — not because you’re smarter than everyone else, but because you have a framework that transforms confusion into clarity. Over time, this becomes habitual. Your reputation shifts. People start to seek your perspective. The compounding effect is remarkable.
How to Practice
Start simply. This week, when you read a proposal or sit in a meeting, mentally run through the topics. You don’t need all seven at first. Pick three: definition, cause and effect, and comparison. When someone makes a claim, ask yourself: How would I analyze this through each lens?
The goal isn’t to use every topic in every response. Rather, it’s to make the mental survey automatic. With practice, topics become invisible infrastructure — you’re not consciously thinking “now I’ll argue from circumstance,” you’re simply thinking clearly under pressure.
The ancient rhetoricians understood something we’ve forgotten: eloquence isn’t a gift bestowed on the lucky few. It’s a system, learnable and reliable. When your mind knows where to look for arguments, it stops freezing. The static clears. And in that crucial moment when everyone’s watching, you speak.
I hope this served you well in understanding how topics can transform your professional presence. If this resonated with you, or if you have your own “blank stare” stories, I’d be delighted to hear from you. Reply to this email — I read every response.
Until next time,
The Rhetorician
