My dorky
friends and I love to talk about what makes a good argument and the pitfalls of
logical fallacies. This is one of my all-time favorite topics of discussion,
which is no doubt why I’m widely regarded to be so hip and cool. (Note: Anyone
who calls herself “hip and cool”… is not.)
Anyway,
I’ve wanted to write a blog post for some time on logical fallacies, but I
didn’t think I had any original thought to add to the subject. I needed a good,
solid example with a common thread running through it—and boy, have I found it.
In response
to a controversy that is brewing in my hometown of Dahlonega, Ga., regarding
teacher-led prayer in school, I started a new Facebook page called LC True. The
“yes to teacher-led prayer in school” crowd has plenty of support (including
that of the principal and school board), so I wanted to provide a place for
students, teachers, parents, community members, and anyone else to come
together and discuss the issues. I hoped, among other things, to provide high
school students with support and to let them know that someone out there is
listening to them. As a side-effect, I hoped to deflect some wrath away from
15-year-olds and onto myself, ‘cause I can take it. (Mission accomplished!)
In all of
the arguing back and forth, I’ve been fascinated by the logical fallacies that
have hit the table. I think it’s an interesting illustration, so I wanted to
share some of them. (I’m not saying that I’m immune to logical fallacies. My
friend Tim had diagnosed me with a Straw Man problem at one time, and he was
right!)
How do you know?
One of my
Criminal Justice professors used to challenge us like this: “How do you KNOW
what you know?” This was a life-changing question for me, because until that
point, I could get away with bad argument. At that moment, I became fascinated
with what makes a good argument—in other words, are we weighing the facts and
truly proving or disproving a premise to get closer to the truth? When people
utter that obnoxious phrase “education teaches you how to think!,” this is what
they mean, I believe.
A sound
argument is based on a fact which supports a premise, which leads in turn to a
conclusion. If the facts are sound and the premise is sound, the conclusion
will be true. For example: All humans are mammals. If Robin is a human, then Robin
must also be a mammal.
This
example is so simple as to be silly, but what if we say this:
It is a
violation of the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause for public school
teachers to lead students in school prayer.
The
teachers at LCHS led students in a Christian prayer at LCHS on Wednesday, May
1, 2013.
The
teachers therefore violated the First Amendment.
(Now, of
course, there are many mini-arguments to be made here. The first statement is
not really valid unless you first show that the Supreme Court has held that
public schoolteachers are agents of the state, and that as such, if they lead
students in religious activities, it’s the same as the state sponsoring a
religion. Also, you’d need to show that teachers were present and led or aided
in the prayer. Plus, you’ll want to discuss the Establishment Clause and cite
Supreme Court cases holding that the Establishment Clause says what you think
it says.)
Fighting fair
In a
previous blog post and on the LC True page, I’m making the above argument. A
lot of people have disagreed with me, as I hoped they would. It can be
frustrating, though, that we’re not arguing about the same thing. In fact, we
appear to agree on some key points, and yet disagreement persists in spite of
that. Why is this? How can we agree and disagree at the same time?
Religion is
the most emotional subject around, and by definition we have deeply-held
beliefs about it. I suspect our arguments often fail because not only are we
not playing by the same rules, we’re not even playing the same game. For
example, I once heard a brilliant scientist discuss evolution. She carefully
laid out her premises, which included key points from the fossil record. An
audience member said, “That stuff is not true. Satan put those fossils there to
fool you!” She responded: “I can’t argue with that logic,” and the man left,
satisfied that he had won the argument. The audience were outraged! How could
this brilliant woman fail to put this clown in his place? She explained: He’s
using a different system of logic. If he’s allowed to punt in favor of the
supernatural, we’re not arguing about the same thing at all. There’s no use
arguing.
With that
in mind, here are some examples of a few logical fallacies from the LC True
movement. (Fair is fair: I’ve tried to find examples from all sides of the
issue.)
Ad hominem
Latin for
“to the man,” this method attempts to refute a person’s premise by attacking
the person herself and not the premise.
Example:
“You’re wrong. You can’t see the truth because you’re not a Christian. You are
arrogant; you think you’re so smart, etc.” and from the other side: “(A certain
teacher) once made a racist, sexist, etc., comment to me when I was in school
there, so you can see he doesn’t care about children.”
I will note
here that I’ve been tempted to make one of these arguments myself. When more
than one person demanded that I declare my religion, prayer habits, and plans
for the afterlife in public, I had to refrain from comparing this tactic to
Nazism. Also, it’s easy (but wrong) to make someone look stupid by attacking
poor spelling and grammar.
Ad ignorantium
Because we
don’t know it’s NOT true, it must be true.
Example:
“You weren’t there, so you can’t say that God wasn’t moving at that school. You
can’t prove that God didn’t command this.” Also, I would add this: “Some things
are true but can’t be proven with logic and reason.”
No True Scotsman
This occurs
when your opponent tries to disprove your premise by offering examples of why
it’s not true. If I argue that all Scotsmen wear kilts all the time, and you
show me pictures of Sean Connery and Billy Connolly in pants, I could
erroneously say, “Well, then, they’re not TRUE Scotsmen.”
Example:
One person argued that the county is majority Christian and that all Christians
support teacher-led prayer in school. Another person countered: “I’m a
Christian, and I think what happened was wrong.” The response: Well, then,
you’re not a TRUE Christian.
Post-hoc ergo propter hoc
Latin:
“After this therefore because of this”—because an event happened after another
event, the first event caused the second.
Example:
“The Supreme Court took prayer out of school. Then, you had all these school
shootings.” From another viewpoint: “I wonder if this recent prayer-in-school
movement is responsible for the drop in the LCHS graduation rate.”
Straw Man
Rather than
refuting the original premise, you make up a new premise and refute THAT “straw
man” premise.
Example:
“You’re wrong! It’s not illegal for people to pray in public” (when the issue
is whether it’s a violation of the Establishment Clause for teachers to lead
prayer, etc.).
Hey, nobody
is saying it should be illegal to pray in public, but that’s not what the
controversy’s about.
Moving the goalpost
When your
opponent successfully refutes your premise, you change your premise.
Example: “Big deal. It was before school and only last a few minutes into first period.” Counter: “No, it lasted until nearly 2 p.m.” “Well, so what. It was student-led.” “No, up to 12 teachers participated.” “Yeah, but it was voluntary.” “Not really, because…” Etc.
Slippery slope
This fallacy warns us that, if we accept a premise, it will inevitably lead to the extreme of that premise.
Example: “If you don’t let teachers follow their convictions, the next thing you know, you’ll be saying that they can’t pray at their desks in private—or even at home.” OR “If you let these kids pray, you’ll have to set up special foot-washing stations for Muslim prayer at taxpayer expense. Then, we’ll be forced to serve kosher meals in the lunchroom.”
Example: “Big deal. It was before school and only last a few minutes into first period.” Counter: “No, it lasted until nearly 2 p.m.” “Well, so what. It was student-led.” “No, up to 12 teachers participated.” “Yeah, but it was voluntary.” “Not really, because…” Etc.
Slippery slope
This fallacy warns us that, if we accept a premise, it will inevitably lead to the extreme of that premise.
Example: “If you don’t let teachers follow their convictions, the next thing you know, you’ll be saying that they can’t pray at their desks in private—or even at home.” OR “If you let these kids pray, you’ll have to set up special foot-washing stations for Muslim prayer at taxpayer expense. Then, we’ll be forced to serve kosher meals in the lunchroom.”
A logical conclusion
It’s easy for any of us to become flustered when arguing—particularly when we’re arguing about a touch subject like religion—and to seek refuge in a logical fallacy. This is a complex problem, though, so we’ve got to stick to the real issues. If we don’t we’ve got no hopes of finding common ground, and we owe it to those high school kids to try. You can’t argue with that logic.
One of the most common fallacies I encounter is the False Dichotomy.
ReplyDeleteI occasionally encounter arguments that depend on:
Strength of belief (includes proof by auditory volume)
Truth by consensus. (We all believe this)