Wrong is Right (Red Herrings, Part 25)

The 25th and final installment of Red Herrings (a subset of Fallacies) ends with the red herring known as “two wrongs make a right.” There’s actually one more red herring in the Wikipedia list, previously covered in my series on cognitive biases: the Texas sharpshooter fallacy. Next week, something completely different. Or maybe not.

Two Wrongs Make a Right

Given the reality that no side is completely innocent of all wrongdoing, the “two wrongs make a right” argument crops up with surprising frequency. When Side A is accused of some misdeed, the response all too often becomes “Side B is even worse!” But the sins of Side B, no matter how true or how severe, don’t excuse Side A.

The fundamental test of any red herring fallacy is that the truth or falsehood of the counterclaim is irrelevant to the merit of the primary claim. Whether a different group is as bad or worse changes nothing. Two wrongs, as we all know (or should know), don’t make a right.

But that doesn’t stop people from trying.

Drawing Straws (Red Herrings Part 24)

Part 24 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week, the straw man.

Straw Man

The Economist reports Mitt Romney’s stump speech about President Obama, in which Romney says,

Just a couple of weeks ago in Kansas, President Obama lectured us about Teddy Roosevelt’s philosophy of government. But he failed to mention the important difference between Teddy Roosevelt and Barack Obama. Roosevelt believed that government should level the playing field to create equal opportunities. President Obama believes that government should create equal outcomes.

Of course, Mitt Romney is lying. As the article goes on to say, “Barack Obama doesn't ‘believe that government should create equal outcomes’ any more than Mitt Romney believes that 1% of Americans should have all the wealth while the rest get nothing, or that companies should fire all their American workers and send their jobs to China because Americans are overpaid and lazy.” Instead, Romney is attempting to reframe a discussion on income inequality in a way that is more advantageous to his own arguments.

This is an example of the Straw Man fallacy. Instead of arguing with what a person actually says or believes, the responder creates a distorted version of that argument and attacks that, instead.

Straw man arguments take the following form:

1. Person A holds position X.

2. Person B disregards certain key points of X and instead presents the superficially similar position Y. Position Y is distorted from position X in varying ways, including:

a. A direct misrepresentation of the opponent's position. 

b. Quoting an opponent's words out of context — i.e. choosing quotations that misrepresent the opponent's actual intentions.

c. Presenting someone who defends a position poorly as the main defender, then refuting that person's arguments — thus giving the appearance that every upholder of that position (and thus the position itself) has been defeated. 

d. Inventing a fictitious persona with actions or beliefs which are then criticized, implying that the person represents a group of whom the speaker is critical. 

e. Oversimplifying an opponent's argument, then attacking this oversimplified version.

3. Person B attacks position Y, concluding that X is false/incorrect/flawed.

There may well be honest and legitimate reasons to attack Position X, but attacking Position Y instead is always dishonest.

Hume’s Guillotine (Red Herrings Part 23)

Part 23 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week, the is-ought problem.

Is-Ought Problem

The “is-ought problem” is also known as Hume’s Law or Hume’s Guillotine, first articulated by Scottish philosopher David Hume in his 1739 work A Treatise of Human Nature.

In every system of morality, which I have hitherto met with, I have always remarked, that the author proceeds for some time in the ordinary ways of reasoning, and establishes the being of a God, or makes observations concerning human affairs; when all of a sudden I am surprised to find, that instead of the usual copulations of propositions, is, and is not, I meet with no proposition that is not connected with an ought, or an ought not. This change is imperceptible; but is however, of the last consequence. For as this ought, or ought not, expresses some new relation or affirmation, 'tis necessary that it should be observed and explained; and at the same time that a reason should be given; for what seems altogether inconceivable, how this new relation can be a deduction from others, which are entirely different from it.

As in the case of many logical fallacies, it’s not necessarily the case that “is” precludes “ought,” but rather that “is” doesn’t constitute a sufficient proof by itself. To reach a conclusion of “ought” requires additional argument.

The problem is easier in goal-setting than in morality. For example, if you want to win a race, then you ought to run quickly. However, whether you ought to want to win in the first place is a different question.

All-Natural (Red Herrings Part 22)

Part 22 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week, the appeal to nature.

Appeal to Nature

There’s nothing inherently wrong in appealing to nature as part of an argument, but it becomes a red herring logical fallacy when it turns into an unwarranted assumption. The form of the logical fallacy is:

N is natural.
Therefore, N is good or right. 

U is unnatural.
Therefore, U is bad or wrong.

A medicine made with “all natural” ingredients could well contain arsenic and uranium, which hardly qualify as safe. The definition of “natural” itself can be twisted using judgmental language, which you’ll see in various arguments against homosexuality.

But that’s just a load of santorum.

I Am Curious (Yellow) (Red Herrings Part 21)

Part 21 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week, the naturalistic fallacy.

Naturalistic fallacy

The naturalistic fallacy was first described and named by British philosopher G. E. Moore in his 1903 book Principia Ethica. It describes the problem of trying to prove an ethical claim by appealing to a definition of “good” in terms of natural properties such as “pleasant,” “more evolved,” or “desirable.” For example, if something is both pleasant and good, inferring that “pleasant” and “good” are therefore the same quality is one bridge too far.

Moore stands in contrast to philosophers who argue that “good” can be defined in terms of natural properties we already understand. Instead, Moore argues that properties are either simple or complex, and complex properties are made from simple ones. Complex properties can be defined by breaking out their simple components, but the simple ones are indefinable. You can define “yellow” as the color of a ripe lemon, or as the primary color between green and orange on the visible spectrum, or as electromagnetic radiation with a wavelength between 570 and 590 nanometers, but none of those are sufficient to help a blind person perceive what you’re talking about. As Justice Potter famously observed about pornography, “I know it when I see it.” But that doesn’t enable one to produce a meaningful operational definition.

Thank God It's Friday! (Red Herrings, Part 20)

Part 20 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week, judgmental language.


Judgmental language

You can’t take a management or communications course without hearing about the dangers of judgmental language, but it’s a red herring fallacy as well. Like all red herrings, judgmental language skips over the actual descriptive part of the argument and rushes right to the conclusion.

“He hates me” is judgmental language, not because it’s necessarily false, but because it cites the conclusion without citing the evidence. What’s the evidence that he does, indeed, hate you? Perhaps he called you names, he told someone else that he hated you, he went to your boss to complain about you, or he let the air out of your tires. Those are descriptions of behavior, and at some point they add up to sufficient evidence to draw the conclusion that yes, indeed, he does hate you. Alternatively, it could mean something else altogether, such as a desire to take your job or win a promotion. It’s not personal, it’s strictly business.

Judgmental language criticizes or praises, condemns or applauds, evaluates or interprets the behaviors (actions, deeds, sayings) of human individuals and groups. “Obama is a Kenyan socialist” neatly avoids the requirement of citing evidence and goes right for the jugular. Political propaganda tends to consist of nothing but.

There are a number of problems with judgmental language. First, your conclusion may be wrong. Second, judgmental language tends to be resisted and to provoke arguments. Avoid “red flag” words and phrases. Try to stay away from “should” and “ought.” Go with the Joe Friday technique: just the facts, ma’am.

A Cute Angle (Fallacies/Red Herrings Part 19)

Part 19 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week, the Genetic Fallacy.

Genetic fallacy

A guy I went to high school with used to claim that calling someone “cute” was an insult, because “cute” originally meant “bowlegged.” According to the OED, that’s wrong. “Cute” is an aphetic (initial vowel dropped) version of “acute,” and originally referred to someone sharp, clever, or quick-witted. A secondary meaning lists “cute” as a synonym of cur, a worthless dog.

Of course, that’s not the sense in which we most commonly use the word today. If I refer to someone as “cute,” I don’t mean bowlegged, clever, or dog-like — I’m usually referring to someone’s physical appearance. (There’s a sarcastic version — “Are you being cute?” — that refers back to the original meaning, but tone of voice usually makes it clear which meaning we intend.)

The genetic fallacy is the argument that because a word or phrase once meant something different, it continues to mean the same thing, regardless of how usage has evolved. The legend that a “rule of thumb” describes the maximum thickness of a stick with which it was permissible for a man to beat his wife has been debunked repeatedly, but even if it were true, it’s not how we use the term today.

Genetic fallacies aren’t always about language. Australia may have been settled in part by British criminals (as was Georgia), but any conclusion about today’s Australians can’t rest on the legal status of its founders.

We Stand on the Shoulders of Pygmies (Fallacies/Red Herrings Part 18)

Part 18 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly.

Chronological snobbery

We stand, Newton observed, on the shoulders of giants, but intellectually we tend to treat them as pygmies. The practice, for example, of using leeches in medicine isn’t just medieval, it’s positively ancient, with citations going back 2,500 years. When leeching went out of fashion (the late 19th century), it was obvious in retrospect how stupid these ancients were. After all, in those days they still believed the earth was flat.

The red herring of chronological snobbery is the argument that because A is an old argument, dating back to when people believed the obviously-false B, A must therefore also be false. The fact that some ancients (though fewer than you’d suppose) believed the earth was flat doesn’t in itself constitute a valid argument against anything other ancient idea. If you want to discredit A, you have to show it’s false: the proof that B is false may be valid, but utterly beside the point.

Leeches, after all, came back into medical fashion in the 1980s. It turns out that leeches are helpful in the aftermath of microsurgeries, promoting healing by allowing fresh, oxygenated blood to reach the area. The fallacy of chronological snobbery would have led investigators away from looking at a clearly outmoded idea.

Anything You *Don’t* Say May Be Held Against You! (Red Herrings, Part 17)

Part 17 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week we cover the argument from silence.

Argumentum e Silentio

If I refuse to answer the question, what conclusions can you draw? Unlike most red herring fallacies, this one depends on the circumstances. In pure reasoning, a conclusion drawn from the silence of another is automatically fallacious. But in abductive reasoning (the process of drawing logical inferences), however, it is sometimes quite reasonable to draw meaning from the absence of communication.

If I claim to be an expert speaker of German, but won’t tell you the proper German phrase for happy birthday, which is more probable: (a) I know, but won’t tell you out of spite, or (b) I really don’t know and my claims to be a German linguist are overblown? Common sense suggests (b) is more likely than (a) — after all, it would be so easy for me to just tell you and move on. On the other hand, if I claim to know my wife’s password but refuse to tell you, it’s unreasonable to conclude that because I won’t tell you, I don’t know.

A fallacious use of the argument from silence is to shift the burden of proof. Bertrand Russell wrote that if he claimed a teapot were orbiting the Sun somewhere between the Earth and Mars, it would be unreasonable to expect others to believe him on the grounds they couldn’t prove him wrong. In other words, your silence in being unable to disprove an argument doesn’t constitute proof that the argument was right all along.

Historians sometimes use the argument from silence in drawing conclusions about what one group of people knew about another, on the grounds that some facts are so natural that their omission legitimately implies ignorance.

In American jurisprudence, the right to silence has the effect of barring the argument from silence, although there are some subtle ways to work it in.

Impure Motives (Part 16 of Fallacies/Red Herrings)

A short installment this week. Part 16 of Red Herrings covers still more responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week we cover the appeal to motive.

Appeal to Motive

Scientist A says that man-made climate change is a real threat. Scientist A is a candidate for tenure at a well-known university, and the head of his department believes the same thing. This means that Scientist A’s motives are impure, and therefore his argument is false.

This is the appeal to motive, another subcategory of the argumentum ad hominem. Its special feature is that it’s only necessary to show that there is a possibility of a motive, however small. What’s missing is proof that (a) the motive actually exists, (b) if it does exist, it played a role in formulating the argument and conclusion, and (c) any other proof or evidence offered is ipso facto invalid.

It’s related to general claims of conflict of interest. In the run up to the Supreme Court hearings on the Affordable Care Act, accusations of conflict of interest have been leveled at three justices, two conservative and one liberal. Showing the potential for a conflict of interest isn’t the same thing as demonstrating that the votes of these justices is necessarily corrupt. In the particular instance, it’s more likely the case that the predispositions of the justices predate the events and actions leading to the charge.

Repugnicans and Libtards (Fallacies, Part 15)

Returning now to those thrilling days of yesteryear, the fifteenth installment of my series on argumentative fallacies continues our list of red herrings — responses to arguments that distract from the argument rather than address it directly. This week we cover the abusive fallacy, the appeal to equality, and the appeal to accomplishment.

Abusive Fallacy

Repugnicans and libtards — who could possibly take seriously anything they have to say? The abusive fallacy is an extreme form of argumentum ad hominem in which name-calling overcomes every other part of the discussion. The objective is to smear the individual and group so completely that anything they have to say is discredited.

When someone surrenders to the abusive fallacy, any pretense of rational discussion goes out the window. If Occupy Wall Street protestors are “dirty, smelly hippies,” there’s no reason to address the substance of any of their arguments. Similarly, if there’s nothing to the Tea Party but astroturf racists, then nothing they say need be taken seriously either.

Appeal to Equality

What does “equal rights” mean? After all, people aren’t “equal” in most normative senses. We aren’t all of the same height, or the same age, or the same weight, or the same IQ, or the same income, or the same education. Though I subscribe fully to the moral concept of equal rights, the logical issues of equality are more complex. For example, I believe in equality of marriage rights, but I don’t accept that a fetus should be considered legally equal to a human being. I believe in freedom, but I’m willing for society to impose imprisonment or other penalties for people who commit certain offenses. Is this logically inconsistent?

No. It’s an example of a logical fallacy known as the “appeal to equality.” In other words, citing “equality” as proof that Person A should be treated the same as Person B is insufficient to make the case.

The argument that gays and lesbians should be permitted to marry, or that a fetus deserves the civil rights of a person, requires additional reasoning. This is important, because we all — properly — make distinctions. The murderer does not have the same rights as a non-murderer; a child does not have the same rights as an adult.

It’s not inconsistent or logically inappropriate to make judgments and distinctions; in fact, it’s required.

Appeal to Accomplishment

In 1970, the Nobel Prize-winning chemist Linus Pauling published Vitamin C and the Common Cold, in which he claimed that very large doses of Vitamin C had a variety of health effects. It’s probably fair to say that if I had written that book, no one would have taken it seriously.

The appeal to accomplishment is the logical fallacy that the accomplishments of the arguer serve as evidence in favor of his or her claim, whether or not the claim is necessarily related to the area of accomplishment.

While it’s reasonable to take a close look at a proposition because Expert A claims it’s true, it’s important not to confuse that with the belief that Expert A is necessarily right.

Dives and Lazarus (Part 13 of Fallacies)

More red herrings, argumentative fallacies that distract from the argument rather than address it directly.

Argumentum ad crumenam

If you’re so damn smart, why ain’t you rich?

The argumentum ad crumenam, or argument to the purse, suggests that the truth of the proposition can be supported by the wealth of the speaker. If you’re so smart, why ain’t you rich? In other words, if you’re rich, you must be smart.

The rebuttal to this argumentative red herring can be made in only two words:

Donald Trump.

Argumentum ad lazarum

The reverse is known as the appeal to poverty. It takes its name from the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31), in which the rich man suffers the torments of Hades while the beggar Lazarus enjoys the delights of heaven.

While there’s significant Biblical support for the comparative virtue of poor versus rich (see Matthew 19:24, “And again I say to you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.”), virtue and logical argument don’t necessarily correlate. If it’s not necessarily true because a rich person says it, it’s no more true if a poor one does.

Known by the Company We Keep (Part 12 of Fallacies)

In the next part of our continuing survey of red herrings (responses to arguments that don’t address the actual argument but merely distract from it, we’ll look at the two types of association fallacies: guilt by association and honor by association. Depending on your point of view, they can be one and the same.

Guilt by Association

Association fallacies take the following form: (1) A is a B. (2) A is also a C. (3) Therefore, all Bs are also Cs. (More formally, (∃x ∈ S : φ(x)) → (∀x ∈ S : φ(x)), which means “if there exists any x in the set S so that a property φ is true for x, then for all x in S the property φ must be true.”

Of course, that’s not at all a necessary condition. The classic rebuttal goes like this:

(1) All dogs have four legs.
(2) My cat has four legs.
(3) Therefore, my cat is a dog.

The PolitiFact Truth-O-Meter recently gave a “Pants On Fire” rating to an August 17 blog post by Texas radio host Dan Cofall, which read in part, “The magic number ‘70’ is the number of members of the 111th Congress who are members of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA). These are not just politicians who vote left of center; these are card-carrying members of ‘The Democratic Socialists of America.’” (The "70" to which Cofall refers is the membership of the Congressional Progressive Caucus — though I do not believe they actually issue membership cards.)

There are two guilt-by-association attacks here, one direct and one indirect. The indirect attack is in the term “card-carrying,” an echo of McCarthy-era HUAC anti-communist campaigning. The implication goes like this:

(1) Dues-paying members of the Communist Party carry cards.
(2) Members of Group X (Democratic Socialists, ACLU, etc.) carry cards.
(3) Therefore, members of Group X are Communists.

The direct attack takes this form:

(1) The  Democratic Socialists of America have a platform with a number of ideas.
(2) Some members of the Congressional Progressive Congress have ideas that overlap with some items on the DSA agenda.
(3) Therefore, all members of the Congressional Progressive Congress are "card carrying" members of the Democratic Socialists of America.

Of course, liberal Democrats and Tea Party members also share some specific ideas (they both like the idea of voting, for example), but it hardly follows that all liberal Democrats are Tea Party members, or vice versa.

The Democratic Socialists are somewhat chagrined. “If we had formal political relationships with 70-odd members [of Congress], we would be making a lot more money” from dues. And as far as they’re concerned, the problem with the Congressional Progressive Congress is that the members aren’t nearly socialist enough — they prefer a third party movement.

Whether it’s “guilt by association” or “honor by association” may depend on your point of view. When Bill O’Reilly said on his January 19, 2005, broadcast, “Hitler would be a card-carrying ACLU member. So would Stalin. Castro probably is. And so would Mao Zedong,” I decided to look at it this way:

(1) Bill O’Reilly and George Bush say bad things about “card carrying” ACLU members.
(2) I think O’Reilly and his fellow-travelers are jackasses.
(3) Therefore, I joined the ACLU…just so I can carry my card.

Queen for a Day (Part 11 of Fallacies)

Fallacies involve incorrect or invalid reasoning. Red herrings are a category of fallacy in which the response to an argument doesn’t address the argument, but rather offers a distraction from it. One class of red herrings consists of appeals to emotion, in which a given feeling is used as the evidence for or against a given proposition.

Argumentum Ad Misericordiam

“Would YOU like to be Queen for a day?”

The forerunner to today’s reality show epidemic, Queen for a Day, premiered as a radio show in 1945, only moving to television in 1956, and lasted until 1964. The format involved three different women talking about financial, health, or other emotionally gripping hard times they had recently experienced, and what they most needed to deal with it — medical care, therapeutic equipment, or a major appliance. An applause meter registered the level of sympathy, and the winner had her wish granted, along with other merchandise. (The runners-up also received prizes; no one went away empty handed.)

The appeal to pity (argumentum ad misericordiam) is a red herring fallacy because it doesn’t in itself prove or disprove the proposition at hand. The contestant with the worst problems or greatest need isn’t necessarily the one whose needs are greatest — the winner is the one most able to win the audience’s sympathy.

Pleading with the teacher for a better grade because an “F” means you can’t be on the football team doesn’t mean you deserve a better grade — but that’s not to say the appeal to pity isn’t effective, or that it’s automatically wrong to make or change a decision because of pity. As dustman-philosopher Alfred P. Doolittle so artfully argues in Pygmalion:

I ask you, what am I? I'm one of the undeserving poor: that's what I am. Think of what that means to a man. It means that he's up agen middle class morality all the time. If there's anything going, and I put in for a bit of it, it's always the same story: 'You're undeserving; so you can't have it.' But my needs is as great as the most deserving widow's that ever got money out of six different charities in one week for the death of the same husband. I don't need less than a deserving man: I need more. I don't eat less hearty than him; and I drink a lot more. I want a bit of amusement, cause I'm a thinking man. I want cheerfulness and a song and a band when I feel low. Well, they charge me just the same for everything as they charge the deserving. What is middle class morality? Just an excuse for never giving me anything. Therefore, I ask you, as two gentlemen, not to play that game on me. I'm playing straight with you. I ain't pretending to be deserving. I'm undeserving; and I mean to go on being undeserving. I like it; and that's the truth.

He won’t win Queen for a Day, but it’s a fine argument nonetheless.

In the law, appeals to pity are not supposed to be made during the trial (though you can sneak it in if you can camouflage it as part of another argument), but they're completely appropriate during sentencing.

Ego Up Ego Down (Part 10 of Fallacies)

Within the world of red herrings, there’s a subcategory of appeals to emotion. (Red herrings are a category of fallacy in which the response to an argument doesn’t address the argument, but rather offers a distraction from it.) Some of the red herrings we’ve covered, such as an appeal to tradition or consequences, fall into this category. Unlike the ones we’ve covered already, these don’t have an official-sounding Latin title, just plain old English.

Appeal to Flattery

You, dear reader, are clearly someone whose interest in creativity, your orientation toward substantial accomplishment, and your bright shining intelligence is something I hold in awe.

You’re probably one of a very small number of people in the world capable of grasping my newest project management tool in all its ramifications. In capable hands — so terribly rare — these secrets make you unstoppable. People with only normal intelligence will surely fail.

For only twelve small payments of $19,999.99, you can be one of the select leaders of the project management community of the future. Don't you deserve it?

Call today.

Operators are standing by.

* * *

The appeal to flattery is also known as apple polishing and greasing the wheel. By inflating your ego, the arguer tries to implant the idea that if you don’t agree, it’s a sign of your stupidity, ignorance, cowardice, or some other unpleasant characteristic. Done too openly and too thick, it’s immediately transparent. Delivered more subtly, it can be difficult to resist.

Its opposite cousin, “pride and ego down,” is a formal technique used in military interrogation. Here’s the relevant section from Army Field Manual FM 2-22.3, the official guide for interrogators.

US Army Definition from FM 2-22.3 

8-45. (Interrogation) The emotional-pride and ego-down approach is based on attacking the source's ego or self-image. The source, in defending his ego, reveals information to justify or rationalize his actions. This information may be valuable in answering collection requirements or may give the [human intelligence] HUMINT collector insight into the viability of other approaches. This approach is effective with sources who have displayed weakness or feelings of inferiority. A real or imaginary deficiency voiced about the source, loyalty to his organization, or any other feature can provide a basis for this technique. 

8-46. The HUMINT collector accuses the source of weakness or implies he is unable to do a certain thing. This type of source is also prone to excuses and rationalizations, often shifting the blame to others. An example of this technique is opening the collection effort with the question, "Why did you surrender so easily when you could have escaped by crossing the nearby ford in the river?" The source is likely to provide a basis for further questions or to reveal significant information if he attempts to explain his surrender in order to vindicate himself. He may give an answer such as, "No one could cross the ford because it is mined." 

8-47. The objective is for the HUMINT collector to use the source's sense of pride by attacking his loyalty, intelligence, abilities, leadership qualities, slovenly appearance, or any other perceived weakness. This will usually goad the source into becoming defensive, and he will try to convince the HUMINT collector he is wrong. In his attempt to redeem his pride and explain his actions, the source may provide pertinent information. Possible targets for the emotional-pride and ego-down approach are the source's— 

o Loyalty. 

o Technical competence. 

o Leadership abilities. 

o Soldierly qualities. 

o Appearance. 

8-48. There is a risk associated with this approach. If the emotional-pride and ego-down approach fails, it is difficult for the HUMINT collector to recover and move to another approach without losing his credibility. Also, there is potential for application of the pride and ego approach to cross the line into humiliating and degrading treatment of the detainee. Supervisors should consider the experience level of their subordinates and determine specifically how the interrogator intends to apply the approach technique before approving the interrogation plan.

Often the two techniques are used together. An interrogator may flatter and build up the ego of a subject, only to turn around and belittle him, which often speeds the extent to which the subject works to justify and defend the behavior you want to learn about.

Of course, none of this would never work on you.

You’re way too smart.

Not to mention good looking.

(Moran.)

Little. Yellow. Different. (Fallacies, Part 9)

Red herrings are responses to an argument that don’t address the substance of the argument — they’re distractions. This week we’ll look at two related red herrings: the appeal to tradition and the appeal to novelty.

Argumentum ad antiquitatem

Tycoon and inventor Alfred Lee Loomis is one of the most important 20th century scientists you’ve never heard of. A nephew of Secretary of War Henry Stimson, it was Loomis who was asked to review the famous Einstein letter suggesting that FDR investigate the fissionable properties of U-235 as a potential military weapon. Loomis, who knew Einstein well, said he thought it was a good idea.

During the First World War, Loomis worked at Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland, and told stories about his time there. When working with a cannoneer unit, he was puzzled by one of the soldiers, who always walked about 50 paces in back of the rest of the company, and who stood stock-still for hours at a time with one arm slightly raised. Upon investigation, Loomis learned what the man was there for: he held the horses.

The horses were already gone by then, of course, but the soldier remained on duty. Why? It was tradition. There had always been someone delegated to do that job, so he remained.

The appeal to tradition, formally known as argumentum ad antiquitatem, is an argument that a proposition is true because it is in line with some tradition. It’s right because it’s always been that way.

This fallacy rests on two shaky assumptions:

1. The old way of thinking or behavior was correct when it was introduced.
2. Nothing materially has changed to alter it.

The argument against gay marriage, for example, rests primarily on the appeal to tradition: gays have not been permitted to marry in most cultures and time periods; therefore, gays should not be permitted to marry in this culture and in this time period. Arguments against blacks or women having full citizenship often rest on this particular fallacy as well.

Argumentum ad novitatem

The pain reliever Nuprin used to advertise its product in three words: “Little. Yellow. Different.” Of them, the third is the key. Nuprin, one is supposed to infer, is a superior pain reliever because it’s newer.

If it’s not necessarily true that traditional is better, neither is the reverse assumption a reliable guide to truth. The appeal to novelty, or argumentum ad novitatem, argues that a proposition is true simply because it’s new and modern.

Newer and more modern may indeed be superior. Next year’s computer will likely have more powerful features than last year’s. Software version 4.3 probably has fewer bugs than 4.2. The claim becomes a fallacy when the newness itself is the only argument being made for it.

Tension, Apprehension, and Dissension Have Begun (Fallacies, Part 8)

Red herrings confuse the issue by distracting you from the actual argument. From ad hominem attacks against the arguer to ad populum appeals to mass sentiment, they form a major subcategory of logical fallacies. Today, we’ll cover argumentum ad metum,  the appeal to fear.

Argumentum ad metum

FUD, “fear, uncertainty, and doubt,” is a marketing tactic that spreads negative information about a competitive product as a way of making it less desirable as an option. Former IBM executive Gene Amdahl (after starting his own competing company), described its use by his former company this way: “FUD is the fear, uncertainty, and doubt that IBM sales people instill in the minds of potential customers who might be considering Amdahl products.”

It used to be said, “No one ever got fired for buying IBM,” and if you can position yourself as the safe choice, it’s a very powerful argument indeed. The trouble it, it’s a logical fallacy, part of the “appeal to fear,” or argumentum ad metum (sometimes argumentum in terrorem).

It’s a traditional parental argument. “A Red Ryder BB Gun? You’ll shoot your eye out!” In politics, it’s “Vote for Candidate X and it’s the same thing as voting in a Communist dictatorship!” In school, it’s “If you don’t make good grades, you’ll never amount to anything in your life.”

Reduced to its logical form, the fallacy is clear:

1. Either P or Q is true.
2. Q is frightening.
3. Therefore, P is true.

There are a few tricks to using the appeal to fear. First, fear appeals are “nonmonotonic.” That means the persuasiveness isn’t increased with the amount of fear. One study of public service messages about AIDS found that if the messages were too fearful, they were rejected. In addition, a persuasive appeal to fear has to provide you with a way to cope, an action you can take. Don’t buy that BB gun and you’ll keep both eyes. Make good grades and you’ll be sure to make a good living. Buy IBM, and you’ll never be fired.

But none of these is guaranteed.

Won't Someone Think of the Children? (Fallacies, Part 7)

Red herrings are responses to arguments that ignore the argument and focus on something else. Many, but not all, have Latin names beginning with argumentum ad. Not all argumentum ad fallacies are red herrings, of course.

Nor are they all formal fallacies. Some, such as the argumentum ad Hitlerian, the claim that what you say is false because Hitler once did or said something similar, are more in the line of cute observations rather than official fallacies. For the record, it’s merely a subset of ad hominem with a little “poisoning the well” thrown in for good measure.

Argumentum ad consequentiam

In 1975, the Birmingham (UK) Six were sentenced to life imprisonment for the Birmingham pub bombings, an attack attributed to the Provisional IRA that killed 21 people. The six men claimed to have been brutalized in police custody. Fourteen prison officers were subsequently charged with assault, but were acquitted. The Birmingham Six continued to appeal, but their case was thrown out by Lord Denning of the Court of Appeal, who wrote these amazing words.

“If [the six men] won, it would mean that the police were guilty of perjury; that they were guilty of violence and threats; that the confessions were involuntary and improperly admitted in evidence; and that the convictions were erroneous. That would mean that the Home Secretary would have either to recommend that they be pardoned or to remit the case to the Court of Appeal. That was such an appalling vista that every sensible person would say, ‘It cannot be right that these actions should go any further.’”

This is an example of argumentum ad consequentiam, the “argument to the consequences.” The truth of the premise is determined by whether it leads to desirable or undesirable consequences. The legendary attempt by a Tennessee legislator to pass a bill making π = 3.0 was based on the premise that it would make math so much easier for high school students, who wouldn’t have to wrestle with all those decimal places.

This is not to say that consequences don’t matter, or that they shouldn’t affect decision-making. It’s only that consequences, no matter what they are, don’t determine the truth of an argument.

50 Million Elvis Fans *Can* Be Wrong! (Fallacies, Part 6)

In our ongoing survey of red herrings, responses to arguments that don’t address the original issue, they’ve mostly taken Latin names starting with argumentum ad, translated as “argument from” or “argument to.” In practice, the argumentum is omitted: argumentum ad hominem, “argument from the person,” is usually just cited as ad hominem.

Argumentum ad populum

Elvis Presley’s ninth album is titled 50,000,000 Elvis Fans Can’t Be Wrong, but of course that’s a logical fallacy, with no disrespect intended to the King. The fallacy is known popularly as the “argument from common consent,” and more formally as argumentum ad populum. If the majority believes that proposition X is true, then it’s presumptively true.

On February 6-7, 2009, a few days before the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Darwin, (February 12, 1809), the Gallup organization conducted a national survey on the question, “Do you personally believe in the theory of evolution, do you not believe in evolution, or don’t you have an opinion either way?” The disappointing answer is hardly surprising to anyone who grew up in the American south. Approximately 39% of Americans believe; 25% do not believe—and 36% have no opinion either way. (The percentage of believers goes up with education—and down with church attendance or Republican party membership.)

Americans who believe in evolution are a minority, but what does that have to do with whether Darwinian evolution is a fact? Polls for or against a given factual proposition are common, but they’re logically meaningless. That is, of course, when the factual proposition under discussion is something other than opinion.

If the factual question is “Do most Americans believe in Darwinian evolution?” then, the factual answer can be determined by a poll. Otherwise, not.

Agree — Or Else! (Fallacies Part 5)

Red herrings are responses to arguments that don’t address the original issue. Their purpose is to distract and muddle the discussion.

Argumentum ad baculum

Although French scholar Étienne Dolet (1509-1546) published a declaration of his Christian faith in Cato christianus, he was charged with the crime of atheism and imprisoned. On his 37th birthday, he was strangled and burned for that crime. Giulio Cesare Vanini, an Italian free-thinker (with a decidedly racist bent), had his tongue cut out before being strangled and burned.

The argument against being an atheist was, as you can imagine, quite persuasive.

Argumentum ad baculum, translated as “argument to the cudgel” or “appeal to the stick,” is generically referred to as “appeal to force,” in which force, coercion, or the threat of force is used to justify a conclusion. The general form of the argument is:

     If Person A accepts Proposition P as true, then Consequence C.
     Consequence C is a punishment for Person A.
     Therefore, Proposition P is not true.

Criticize the boss and be fired. Take an unpopular political position and the other side will spend money to defeat you. Argue with the teacher and go to the principal’s office.

The refutation, attributed to Galileo, is simple: “It still moves.” The truth or falsehood of the proposition is not affected by the consequences to the arguer, no matter how severe.

As with many fallacies, there’s also a valid form of the argument, in which the punishment is logically related to the conclusion. For example:

     Drunk drivers are arrested, fined, and may go to jail.
     You don’t want to be arrested, fined, and sent to jail.
     Therefore, you should not drive drunk.

The punishment here is not being used to draw a conclusion about whether it is immoral or bad to drive drunk, but whether it’s prudent given the consequences. If the conclusion were “Therefore, drunk driving is immoral,” the argument would be fallacious. As we’ve noted elsewhere, the fallacious nature of the argument doesn’t make the conclusion wrong — but you need a different argument to support its truth.