Category: Critical Thinking

Back during the ideological battle over masks in the last pandemic, I used arguments by analogy to defend governmental mask requirements. My silly comparison was to laws against public nudity. My serious comparisons were to such things as automobile safety laws and regulations for food handling. During discussions, I often encountered the fallacy of perfect analogy, which is the subject of this essay.

Informally speaking, an argument by analogy is an argument in which it is concluded that because two things are alike in certain ways, they are alike in some other way. More formally, the argument looks like this:

 

           Premise 1: X and Y have properties P, Q, R.

           Premise 2: X has property Z.

           Conclusion: Y has property Z.

 

X and Y are variables that stand for whatever is being compared, such as mask ordinances and automobile safety regulations. P, Q, R, and are also variables, but they stand for properties or features that X and Y are known to possess, such as protecting people from danger. Z is also a variable, and it stands for the property or feature that X is known to possess, such as being an acceptable imposition by the government. The use of P, Q, and R is just for the sake of the illustration—the things being compared might have many more properties in common.

An argument by analogy is an inductive argument. This means that it is supposed to be such that if all the premises are true, then the conclusion is probably true. Like other inductive arguments, the argument by analogy is assessed by applying standards to determine the quality of the logic. Like all arguments, there is also the question of whether the premises are true.

The strength of an analogical argument’s logic depends on three factors. To the degree an analogical argument meets these standards it is a strong argument. To the degree that it fails, it is weak. If the argument is weak enough it can be considered a fallacy (an error in logic). In this case, it would be a false or weak analogy.

The first standard is that the more properties X and Y have in common, the better the argument. This standard is based on the commonsense notion that the more two things are alike in other ways, the more likely it is that they will be alike in some other way. It should be noted that even if the two things are very much alike in many respects, there is still the possibility that they are not alike regarding Z. This is one reason why analogical arguments are inductive.

The second is the more relevant the shared properties are to property Z, the stronger the argument. A specific property, for example P, is relevant to property Z if the presence or absence of P affects the likelihood that Z will be present. It should be kept in mind that it is possible for X and Y to share relevant properties while Y does not actually have property Z. Again, this is part of the reason why analogical arguments are inductive.

The third is that it must be determined whether X and Y have relevant dissimilarities as well as similarities. The more dissimilarities and the more relevant they are, the weaker the argument.

These can be simplified to a basic standard: the more like the two things are in relevant ways, the stronger the argument. And the more the two things are different in relevant ways, the weaker the argument. To focus the discussion, I will make use of two analogies to mask regulations. I do not want to get bogged down in the distinctions between ordinances, laws, and such, so I am using the vague term “regulations.” Any substantial battles over the exact terminology can be addressed in the context of law.

When arguing about masks, my concern was with the ethics of such regulations, and I left the legal wrangling to the legal experts. There are two main strategies when using an argument by analogy to argue that something is morally acceptable (or unacceptable). The first is to find something the target audience believes is morally acceptable (or unacceptable) and argue that it is like what you are trying to prove to be morally acceptable (or unacceptable). For example, most people think that laws against public nudity are morally acceptable and hence drawing an analogy between them and mask regulations would be a plausible approach. This differs from an appeal to belief fallacy in that the point is not that something is good (or bad) because people believe it. Rather, it is an appeal to consistency: if a someone accepts public nudity laws as ethical and mask regulations are like these nudity laws, then they should accept the mask regulations are ethical as well.

The second is to find something for which there are already strong arguments for being morally acceptable (or unacceptable) and show how the thing in question is like that thing. This is analogous to how lawyers make use of precedent: if a type of case is already well argued, then a successful analogy to that case allows one to apply the same arguments. As an example, the regulations governing automobile safety (like requiring working brakes) have good arguments supporting them. If it can be shown that mask regulations are like these regulations, then these arguments would also apply to mask regulations, thus providing support for them. While these uses of the argument are reasonable, they can also be reasonably challenged. But the challenges can also be fallacious. It is to the challenges that I now turn.

As noted above, the premises of any argument can be challenged. In the case of an argument by analogy, once counter involves arguing that either (or both) X or Y lack the attributed properties. Another counter is to argue that X lacks Z—this approach can be used against both approaches.

If the argument is a targeted analogy, a person who does not accept that X has Z can reject the analogy. For example, a person who is morally fine with public nudity can reject the analogical argument which assumes laws against public nudity are morally acceptable. If the argument is aimed at making an analogy with something that has established moral arguments, then arguing against these arguments would undercut the analogy. For example, an anarchist could make use of the usual arguments against all the laws of the state to undercut my analogy between masks and automobile safety laws. The arguments that refute the claim that requiring brakes by law is morally acceptable would, by analogy, also refute the claim that mandating mask usage is morally acceptable. This, of course, cannot merely be asserted, it still needs to be argued.

Even if a critic accepts the truth of the premises, they can still reject the argument in a principled manner by arguing that the analogy is weak: that it fails to meet the three standards adequately. If the analogy is bad enough, it could even be the fallacy of false or weak analogy. But the critic must also be on guard against committing fallacies.

One error a critic can make is simply asserting that the three standards are not met and therefore the conclusion of the argument is false. The most common version of this is to assert, without adequate support, that a difference is both relevant and significant enough to refute the analogy.  This can be pushed to the point where it becomes the perfect analogy fallacy. It is often combined with the fallacy fallacy: concluding that an argument must have a false conclusion because the reasoning is (or is alleged to be) fallacious.

The perfect analogy fallacy has this form:

 

Argument 1

Premise 1: An argument by analogy concludes that Y has Z (because X has Z and X and Y are similar).

Premise 2: D is a difference between X and Y.

Conclusion: The argument by analogy is a false or weak analogy.

 

One could also combine the perfect analogy fallacy with the fallacy fallacy in an extended argument:

 

Argument 2

Premise 1: An argument by analogy A concludes that Y has Z (because X has Z and X and Y are similar).

Premise 2: Argument by analogy A is a false or weak analogy, as per Argument 1.

Conclusion: Y does not have Z.

 

Or just smash them together:

 

Argument 3

Premise 1: An argument by analogy A concludes that Y has Z (because X has Z and X and Y are similar).

Premise 2: D is a difference between X and Y.

Conclusion: Y does not have Z.

 

Argument 2 and 3 would always be fallacies because inferring that the conclusion of a fallacy must be false because it is a fallacy is always a mistake. After all, even an invalid deductive argument can have a true conclusion. For example, consider this invalid argument with all true premises and a true conclusion:

 

Premise 1: If Tallahassee is the capital of Florida, then it is in Florida.

Premise 2: Tallahassee is in Florida.

Conclusion: Tallahassee is the capital of Florida.

 

Argument 1 could, however, be modified to make a good argument. What is wanting is a premise that establishes D as a relevant difference between X and Y that would suffice to show that the argument by analogy is weak. This cannot simply be asserted and it would need to be shown to be plausible using an argument.

The reason I call this fallacy the perfect analogy fallacy is that the use of argument 1 would be part of a strategy to reject an argument by analogy in an unprincipled manner. This would involve either refusing to accept the similarities as adequate or simply asserting that almost any difference is relevant and sufficient to undercut the analogy. That is, the critic is requiring a perfect analogy, which is an impossible standard to meet.

For example, a critic might respond to my nudity law analogy by asserting that the mask covers the mouth while other clothes do not. While this is true, they would need to do more than just point to this difference and they would need to show how this undercuts the analogy. One way to do this is to note that while clothing does not impede breathing, a mask over the mouth can, which could be developed into a relevant difference that undercuts my analogy.

As another example, a critic might respond to my brake analogy by asserting that brakes are not worn but masks are. While this is true, it would need to be shown that this is a relevant and significant difference that breaks the analogy. The main challenge would be showing that while the state can compel people to have safe vehicles, they cannot compel people to wear safety devices, such as seat belts and masks. This could be done but requires more than asserting that people do not wear brakes.

Before accusing a critic of committing this fallacy it is important to determine if this charge has a foundation. After all, good faith criticisms of an argument by analogy involve questioning the similarity between the two things and raising questions about relevant differences. If the critic brings up a difference without support for their claim that it is relevant and significant enough to undercut the analogy, then this would be grounds for suspicion. If they keep repeating the difference without supporting their claim or keep shifting to new, unsupported differences to reject the argument, then it would be reasonable to suspect they are engaged in this fallacy. Their strategy would seem to be to require that X and Y be identical before they accept that X having Z supports Y having Z, which is an impossible standard.

When trying to sort out good faith criticism from bad faith perfect analogy attacks there are two main things to look for. The first is, obviously enough, at least an attempt to argue that the claimed difference is relevant and significant. The second is to look for a willingness on the part of the critic to identify what similarities they would accept as relevant. If they refuse or it plausibly seems that they require an unreasonable (or even impossible) level of similarity, then they are likely to be using the perfect analogy fallacy. It should also be noted that people can fall into this fallacy unwittingly. They are not consciously using a bad faith strategy; they simply believe that asserting a difference exists suffices to undercut the analogy. They would be reasoning in error, but not in bad faith. Such an error can often be corrected, since a person arguing in good faith seeks the truth. I am expecting similar perfect analogy fallacies in the next pandemic, assuming that the government even attempts to take action to protect the people.

As noted in the previous essay, the use of false equivalence is a common tactic in politics. This essay will illustrate some of the ways it can be used to influence voters, and I will provide some methods of defense. While this method can be employed across the political spectrum, in the United States it is favored by the right.

One use of the false equivalence is to make voters feel better voting for a politician who has serious flaws. Such voters would not vote for the other politician, but their enthusiasm could be damped by their negative view of their own politician. This might even cause them to skip voting, if obstacles such as bad weather, long lines or a pandemic interfere. The use of a false equivalence can make such voters feel that since the other candidate is just as bad in the specified ways, they should not feel any concern about supporting their politician. While this is inferior to making the voters feel that their politician is great, it can be effective in getting people to vote.

A second use of the false equivalence is to win over voters who are concerned about the serious flaws of a candidate but would vote for them if these worries were assuaged. But the opposing politician is less flawed and might be able to win over these voters. The tactic here is to draw a false equivalence between the two candidates to convince the voters that both candidates are equally bad. This would allow the deceived voters to feel better about voting for the flawed candidate. They can tell themselves that both are equally bad, so they should vote for the one they prefer for some other reasons. This method can be effective and has the advantage of gaining a vote while taking a vote from the opponent.

A third use is against voters who are unlikely to vote for one politician but might vote for another politician if they were to cast a vote. The goal of the false equivalence in such cases is to demotivate the voter by getting them to believe that all politicians are the same, that is, they are all equally bad. The hope is that this will cause the voter to not vote. While this is not as good as winning over a voter, it is likely to cost their opponent a vote and thus increase their chances of not losing. While this is a sensible method for a bad politician who is going up against a better politician, it does run the risk if adopted by an entire party because they might demotivate their own voters. To avoid this, the false equivalence needs to be designed so that it demotivates the target voters while having less or no impact on the other voters.

One way to do this is by focusing on qualities that would demotivate those inclined to vote for the other party while having less negative impact on the voters of one’s party. Fortunately for politicians, there are things that would upset voters for the other party that their own voters are fine with. For example, the Republicans tried to cast Joe Biden as a racist and someone who gropes women. Since Democrats are much more upset about racism and groping, casting Joe Biden in this way can demotivate Democratic voters while not demotivating Republican voters. After all, most Republicans tolerate or approve of Trump’s racism and history of groping.

Crafting a false equivalence often involves making use of other fallacies and rhetorical devices to power the fallacy. One common method is to use down players to make one politician seem less bad and employ hyperbole to make the other worse. People also sometimes lie or use untruths they uncritically accept. These tactics are typically used in two ways. One is to exaggerate or downplay the number of negative factors. The other is to exaggerate or downplay the degree of the negative factors. The defense against all of these is to be critical and seek the truth. Be wary of claims that you really like (which can be negative claims about someone you do not like) and do not simply accept them without adequate evidence from credible sources.

When trying to exaggerate the number of negative factors, a common tactic is repetition: bringing up the same negative factor repeatedly and from different sources. This can make a single or small number seem much larger psychologically. Repetition will feel like there are many negative factors because one hears about them so often. When trying to create the illusion of a large number, a common approach is to use different headlines for stories and social media posts with the same content as people tend not to read the details and will often be deceived.  The main defense here is noting that it is simply the same thing being repeated to create the appearance of a larger number. Also, always consider that claims can be false.

When it comes to intensity, a commonly employed fallacy is the straw man: presenting a distorted or exaggerated version of the truth. In many cases this involves a claim that a person knows an unknown fact about the target. That, for example, although there is no positive evidence that a person said, did or believes something awful, the person making the straw man somehow knows this alleged secret truth.

As with most fallacies, there are two primary defenses against the false equivalence. The first is knowing that the fallacy is a fallacy. The second is being a critical thinker about claims and being careful to believe only in proportion to the evidence.

“All politicians are the same” is an oft repeated phrase that has a certain appeal. It is easy to think all politicians are corrupt, power obsessed liars. But a claim should not be accepted simply because it is tempting, there should be evidence for it. One stock way to “argue” that all politicians are the same is to make use of the false equivalence. While there are many forms of false equivalence, the focus here is on the fallacy of false equivalence.

In this context, the fallacy of false equivalence occurs when it is concluded, without adequate justification, that two things are the same because they have some quality or qualities in common. More formally, the fallacy has the following structure:

 

Premise 1: X and Y are similar in respect to qualities P, Q, R.

Premise 2: X has quality Z (to degree D or quantity Q).

Conclusion:  Y has quality Z (to degree D or quantity Q).

 

Those familiar with the inductive analogical argument will see the similarity between the two arguments. This is because a false equivalence can be taken as a type of fallacious analogical argument: an unjustified inference that because two things are alike in some ways, they must be alike in the specified way.

In the case of the false equivalence, the error is that even if the two things do have qualities in common, there is not adequate evidence for the conclusion of equivalence. There are various reasons the inference can fail, even assuming the premises are true. One is that while the two things do share qualities, these qualities are not relevant to their being equivalent in the specified way. For example, the fact that Hitler and Ronald Reagan were both male, human, and democratically elected does not suffice to show that they were both genocidal fascists.

Another is that while the qualities can be relevant to the claimed equivalence, there can be a difference in the degree in which the properties are possessed. For example, consider two fictional people. Sam, while drunk as a teenager, once kissed another person while in a relationship and sometimes lies about taking the last cookie in the breakroom at work.  Ashley has cheated (sexually) on many partners and routinely lies about stealing money from work. While both have cheated, stolen, and lied, it would be absurd to claim that they are equally bad as their misdeeds are very different in degree.

A third is that while the two things might share qualities, the number of relevant occurrences of those qualities can be significantly different. For example, a person who rarely lies and a person who constantly lies would both be liars, but they would not be equivalent.

The way to avoid falling victim to this fallacy is to question whether the reasons given as to why the two things are equivalent suffice to support this claim. This would involve considering whether the qualities used to argue for the equivalence are possessed to the same degree or number by the two things. While the two things need not be identical, a claim of equivalence does require showing that they are close enough. One should, as always, also determine whether the premises are plausible or not.

It should be noted that while the usual goal of a false equivalence is to “argue” that one thing is as bad as another, they can also be used to “argue” that one thing is as good as another. The basic error is the same, though. For example, one person who has done a few minor good things might try to draw a false equivalency to a person who has done similar, but far more and far better things.

It should also be kept in mind that there can be good arguments for equivalence. A good argument of this sort would have the same structure as a false equivalence; the difference would lie in that the qualities would be shown to be of an adequate relevance, degree, and number to support the conclusion of equivalence.  These would be, in essence, strong analogical arguments.

Generally, false equivalence benefits the worse of the two things being compared and is detrimental to the better thing. This is because the worse thing is presented as being as good as the better thing and the better thing is presented as being as bad as the worse thing. A such, it is hardly surprising that false equivalences are generally used by the worse of the two things or by their defenders or supporters. In my next essay I will look at the false equivalence as a political weapon.

When people accuse some people of being a racist, they sometimes use a two-part strategy. First, they can deny this. They can even pretend they do not understand how language works or have any recollection of history. Second, they can accuse critics of being racists. This strategy is commonly used to “refute” criticism of sexism and racism. But does it have any merit as an argument? To assess it, I will use the principle of charity and try to make the best version of the argument.

One common opening move in the argument is to deny or downplay discrimination against minorities. Since I am trying to make the most plausible version of this argument, this version will not deny that discrimination and racism did exist. After all, the claim is not that racism and discrimination never existed, just that it either does not exist now or is far less bad than critics claim.

When making this case, the most plausible way is to point to civil rights and anti-discrimination laws. And, of course, one must mention President Obama. When critics point to modern examples of discrimination and racism, the counter is that while modern cases exist, they are rare. For example, one might acknowledge that there are racist police, but they are “a few bad apples.” One might accept that there are racists who say and do racist things, but they are a small number and when they discriminate or use violence, their actions are illegal. Because of this, one would argue, it is fair to criticize the specific racist cop or condemn that particular white supremacist who committed murder. But to speak of systematic racism would be to speak of something that, one might claim, no longer exists.

So, if there is no systematic racism, then those who criticize it are criticizing an illusion. Worse, the argument goes, those who speak of systematic racism involving whites are unfairly and wrongly accusing white people of crimes they are not committing. To illustrate, to speak of white privilege is to claim that white people enjoy advantages over minorities and is to accuse them of being engaged in systematic racism. But since there is no systematic racism on the part of whites, the accuser must be the real racist. After all, they are acting on an unfounded prejudice and attacking people based on their being white.  Thus, those who accuse white people of being bigots and racists are alleged to be the real bigots and racists.

One weak point of this version is that holding that racism is just limited to a “few bad apples” is that there is abundant evidence discrimination exists and is more than just a few bad apples. But this more plausible version can be incorporated into the argument. In this version, it can be accepted that racism against minorities does exist, but racism and against white people is on par with this racism. Roughly put, if it is implausible to deny the existence of racism against minorities, one can instead argue that whites are now equal (or greater) victims of racism.

On this revised version, a white person could accept racism exists, but insist they are not a racist and they are a victim of racism against whites. They would be victims, one infers, because they have been accused of being racist because they are white and not because evidence, they are racists. If they wished to go beyond defending themselves, they could contend whites in general are not racist and hence the critics of racism (against minorities) are bigoted against whites by condemning all whites because of some racist whites. But is this a good argument?

When assessing any argument, there are two general questions. The first is: “is the reasoning good?” The second is: “are the premises true or at least plausible?” One can reason well with untrue claims, reason badly with true claims and so on. Such, we need to assess the above reasoning both in terms of quality of the logic and the plausibility of the claims.

On the face of it, the logic of the argument mirrors good arguments about racism and discrimination:

 

Premise 1: Person P is accused of being X by person Q.

Premise 2: The only evidence given by Q for P being X is that they are of race R.

Premise 3: P’s being R is irrelevant to proving P is X.

Conclusion: Q is being a racist.

 

As an example:

 

Premise 1: Barry is accused of being a racist by Karen.

Premise 2: The only evidence given by Karen for Barry being a racist is that Barry is white.

Premise 3: Barry’s being white is irrelevant to proving Barry is a racist.

Conclusion: Karen is being a racist.

 

But what if someone presents evidence that P is X that is not just based on race?

 

Premise 1: Person P is accused of being X by person Q.

Premise 2: The evidence given by Q for P being X is E (which is not based on P’s race).

Premise 3: P denies E.

Conclusion: Q is being a racist.

 

This is clearly bad logic; although it also does not follow that Q is not being racist—it neither proves nor disproves this. To illustrate:

 

Premise 1: Barry is accused of being a racist by Karen.

Premise 2: The evidence given by Karen for Barry being a racist is an abundance of racist tweets, statements, policies, actions and so on.

Premise 3: Barry denies the evidence and says he is not a racist.

Conclusion: Karen is being a racist.

 

This is also bad logic; denying the evidence does not prove that Karen is a racist. She could, of course, be a racist—but this bad logic does nothing to prove it.

What some people accused of racism do, it seems, is trying to run the first argument. This would be smart, since the reasoning seems solid. Those critical of a racist would contend that the racist cannot use the first argument because the second premise is false. Instead, a racist can only use the second argument in which they deny they are a racist and claims their critics are racist.

The battle, as one would expect, comes down to the truth of the claims rather than the logic. For the “you’re the racist” defense to be a good argument (good logic and plausible premises), then he would need to establish key claims. The exact claims would depend on which specific strategy is being used. Those who claim that racism against minorities no longer exists would need to prove that.  This seems unlikely given the body of existing evidence. Those who claim that it is not as bad as is claimed by expert critics (and not straw people) would need to prove that. Those who claim that discrimination against whites exists and that it is comparable to racism against minorities would need to prove that. An alleged racist would also need to show that the evidence presented that they are racists does not support this claim. Finally, they would need to show that those accusing them of racism are acting from bigotry against whites. Just showing that they are not a racist would not show those accusing him are. They could be wrong, but it would not follow that they are racist.

 The overwhelming evidence is that we white people are not the victims of racial discrimination, despite the claim that we are the real victims of racism.  White people are, however, often right to see themselves as victims—of Trump’s policies.  Most white people do face challenges: corporations have moved jobs overseas, wages have been stagnant, health care is expensive, an opioid epidemic has been ravaging America, and the grotesque mismanagement of the pandemic did incredibly harm. But these are not the result of  white people being white nor of minorities discriminating against whites. Rather, these are the result of the political, economic and social system that has been crafted over the decades—one that hurts everyone who is not rich enough to fare well in this dystopia.

In another way, the matter is also resolved: the lines are drawn, the hats are on and few are switching teams at this late date.

The appeal to tradition assumes a key part of what makes a belief or practice true or correct is its age; that is, it is old enough to be a tradition. If defenders of tradition accepted as correct the oldest beliefs and practices they could find, there would be no need to sort out which traditions to accept beyond determining which are the oldest.

But those making the appeal rarely use it to defend ancient beliefs or practices. For example, while American defenders of “traditional” gender roles often hearken back to their perception of a past, they do not  draw their traditions of sexual roles from ancient Greece. This is not surprising, though these are ancient, they are not consistent with the values presented as traditional by modern American conservatives. Since defenders of tradition do not follow the “oldest is best” principle, they need another standard for selecting their traditions, some principle other than time.

This leads to an obvious dilemma: if time is the determining factor for what is best, then they would need to embrace the oldest practices and beliefs they can find. If there are other factors, then there would be no need to appeal to tradition. They could just use these other factors to defend their beliefs and practices. The first option is absurd; the second makes referring to tradition pointless, except as a fallacy or rhetorical device. While time is a problem for the defenders of tradition, there are analogous problems.

While time is obviously a factor in traditions, one also must consider geography. For example, Christian Americans who appeal to tradition when defending religious values do not embrace the traditions of China, Persia (now Iran), or India. They focus on the United States and Europe. Not only that, but they must also focus on specific groups within those geographic locations. After all, there are diverse traditions within even one American state, city or town or family. Those making an appeal to tradition would need to make a principled argument, give reasons as to why the traditions should (in addition to being from a specific time) also come from a specific location and a specific group. As has been argued, if reasons can be advanced, then there is no need to appeal to tradition. One could just rely on those reasons.

One interesting approach is to embrace a form of relativistic traditionalism: the traditions are best that are the traditions of my culture. This, obviously enough, would include a form of moral relativism: what is morally right or wrong is relative to the culture. Equally obviously it would run into the usual problems for moral relativism. One is that relativism entails that a person has no logical reason to accept the values of their culture as correct. That my culture accepts X gives me only practical reasons to follow X, such as avoiding being harmed or seeking praise. After all, if I believe that relativism is true, I also believe that all cultural values are equally good (or bad).

Another is that relativism ends up collapsing into subjectivism: I can form a culture of one and thus make my values the correct values and so can everyone else. And I can change my values.  This clearly collapses into nihilism, there would be no values in any meaningful sense. In the case of relativism about beliefs, there would be the usual problems for embracing relativism about truth, ones addressed at length by other philosophers, such as Plato. As such, the relativism approach would end in failure.

If an appeal is made to objective truth and objective values, then invoking tradition would be an error: there are many traditions that are inconsistent and even contradictory and so they cannot all be correct. What would be needed would be arguments to show which beliefs and practices among traditions are correct (if any).  Why, then, do people use the appeal to tradition?

One obvious reason is that it can work. Fallacies often have far more persuasive power than good logic. Invoking tradition can also serves as a rhetorical device: people often like traditions and calling something traditional can give that thing a positive feeling, though it would obviously be unearned unless reasons were given as to why it is true or good. Traditions can also often be comforting and give people a sense of stability and security, thus calling something traditional can invoke those feelings. But, once again, as a mere rhetorical device this is unearned.

In closing, I do not think that something must be bad because it is traditional. I have traditions I like precisely because they are pleasant and comforting, but I know that appealing to tradition proves nothing.

The previous essay discussed the family of fallacies that include the appeal to tradition. In this essay I will discuss the test of time and the origin problem. As noted in the previous essay, the gist of the appeal to tradition is that it involves fallaciously inferring that something is correct or true simply because it is a tradition. While concluding that something is correct or true merely because it has been done or believed a long time is an obvious error, those making an appeal to tradition often try to invoke the notion of the test of time. In some cases, the appeal to the test of time is implied while in others it is explicitly made. The appeal to the test of time can be presented as the following argument:

 

Premise 1: X has withstood the test of time.

Conclusion: X is true, right, or correct, etc.

 

While this might be a fallacy, this depends on what the test of time is taken to be. If the test of time is just that X has been believed or practiced for a long time, then this is the appeal to tradition fallacy all over again. False beliefs can persist for centuries as can awful practices, so mere historical longevity does not suffice as evidence of truth or goodness.

The test of time can be defined in terms of actual testing. In the case of a belief, it could be argued that the belief has been subject to repeated assessment for a long time using rigorous methods and thus has passed the test of time. While such testing over time would be good evidence for a belief, it still does not mean that the belief should be accepted as true because it is a tradition. Rather, it should be accepted as true because of the evidence found during the repeated testing. As such, if a belief has passed this sort of test of time, then there should be a significant body of evidence to back up the belief and there would be no reason to make a mere appeal to tradition. One could just make an argument using the evidence from these tests as premises.

There are numerous examples of beliefs that have been tested over time, such as the belief that the earth orbits the sun, that fire burns, that the appeal to tradition is a fallacy, and smoking damages your health. There can, of course, be meaningful debate over even well-supported beliefs.

The same approach can be taken for practices, if a practice has been rigorously assessed over time, then there should be a evidence supporting the correctness or goodness of the practice and thus there would be no reason to rely on a mere appeal to tradition. For example, the practice of good hygiene has been assessed over time and has been found useful. Well-supported practices are still subject to debate and practices that involve value judgments (such as in law, ethics and religion) are matters of great dispute.

Using the test of time approach creates a dilemma: if the test of time is just another expression for tradition, then it is just an appeal to tradition. If the test of time involves rigorous testing, then there is no need to appeal to tradition, there would be good evidence and arguments to use instead. One thing that those who use the test of time approach must admit is that this test must have had a starting point. That is, every belief or practice that is defended as traditional must have an origin and this leads to the origin problem.

The origin problem for tradition is that when the tradition was new it could obviously not be defended by appealing to tradition (or the test of time). The obvious question to ask about the origin of a now traditional belief or practice is “what made it better than the alternatives then?”

The answer to this question should still be applicable today, though it might need to be modified to account for changes over time. As such, a fair response to an appeal to tradition is to engage in some mental time travel and ask the appealer why anyone should have accepted the belief or practice before it became a tradition. For example, if someone is appealing to tradition to defend what they see as traditional values, it is reasonable to trace them back to their origin and inquire about what made them better at that time and why they are the best today. Obviously on day zero of a tradition there can be no appeal to tradition. If no reasons can be advanced as to why it was better then, merely saying it is a tradition now provides no reasons to support its alleged truth or correctness.

The appeal to tradition is a popular and traditional fallacy. During the last debate over same-sex marriage, this fallacy was one of the core “arguments” used by those defending “traditional” marriage. It is still commonly used to defend “traditional” gender roles and “traditional” religious values. The most obvious problem with this approach to argumentation is that it involves a fallacy, a bad argument in which the premise(s) fail to logically support the conclusion. As to why people would use a fallacy, some reasons include not realizing it is a fallacy, not having any good arguments to use, or knowing that a fallacy can be far more persuasive than a logically good argument.

Rather than engage in the endless task of addressing the multitude of specific fallacious appeals to tradition, I will focus on the fallacy itself in the hope of providing the tools needed to recognize and defend against such appeals. To begin and to provide a context for the appeal to tradition, we need to consider two similar fallacies, the appeal to belief and the appeal to common practice.

The appeal to belief fallacy occurs when a person infers a claim is true  because all or most people believe the claim. It has the following pattern:

 

Premise 1:  All (or most) people believe that claim X is true.

Conclusion: Therefore, X is true.

 

This line of “reasoning” is fallacious because the fact that many people believe a claim does not, in general, serve as evidence the claim is true.

There are some cases when belief does serve as evidence for a claim. One case is when the appeal is to the belief of experts. This sort of reasoning should take the form of an argument from authority, which I have discussed in an earlier essay. Sometimes, almost anyone can qualify as an expert. For example, suppose that while visiting my home state of Maine, several residents you see fishing tell you that people older than 16 need to buy a license to fish. Barring reasons to doubt these people, you have good reason to believe their claim because they most likely know the law and are probably not lying to you.

There are also cases where belief makes a claim true. Avoiding the fallacy in such cases does require including this as a premise.  For example, what counts as good manners depends on belief. The meaning of words also seems to rest on belief: words, in a practical sense, mean what most people believe they mean. Some philosophers argue that ethical and aesthetic claims fall into this category. Those who embrace moral relativism argue that what is good and bad is determined by the beliefs of a culture. Those who embrace aesthetic relativism contend that beauty is determined in the same way. But these theories cannot be simply assumed without committing the fallacy of begging the question. Now to the appeal to common practice.

While the appeal to belief involves what people believe, the appeal to common practice involves what people do. It occurs when someone concludes that an action is correct or right simply because it is (alleged to be) commonly done. It has the following form:

 

Premise 1: X is a common action.

Conclusion: Therefore, X is correct/moral/justified/reasonable, etc.

 

It is a fallacy because the mere fact that most people do something does not make it correct, moral, justified, or reasonable. As with appeal to belief, there are philosophers who argue there can be arguments from common practice that are not fallacious. For example, moral relativism is the theory that morality is relative to the practices of a culture. If what is moral is determined by what is commonly practiced, then a non-fallacious argument could be constructed using that as a premise. In this situation, what most people do would be right because that would be how morality worked.

People sometimes mistake an appeal for fair play for an appeal to common practice.  For example, a woman working in an office might say “the men who do the same amount and quality of work I do get paid more than I do, so it would be right for me to get paid the same as them.” The argument does not rest on the practice being a common one; rather it is an appeal to the principle of relevant difference. On this principle two people should only be treated differently if and only if there is a relevant difference between them. For example, it would be morally acceptable to pay people differently for work of different quality; but it would not be acceptable to pay people differently for the same quality and quantity of work simply because one is a male and the other female. As would be suspected, there is considerable debate about what differences are relevant. For example, sexists might believe that it is right for women to be paid less simply because they are women.  

You might wonder what the appeal to belief and the appeal to common practice have to do with the appeal to tradition. Roughly put, the appeal to tradition fallacy involves arguing that something is true or right because it has been believed or done for a long time (or both). As such, the fallacy occurs when it is assumed that something is better or correct simply because it is older, traditional, or “always has been done/believed.”

This sort of “reasoning” has the following form:

 

Premise 1: X is old or traditional (X has been believed or done a long time)

Conclusion: Therefore, X is correct (or better than the new or non-traditional).

 

This sort of “reasoning” is fallacious because the age of something does not automatically make it correct or better than something newer or non-traditional. This is shown by the following example: the theory that witches or demons cause disease is far older than the theory that microorganism cause diseases. If appeal to tradition was good reasoning, then the theory about witches and demons would be true.

While one should avoid falling for the appeal to tradition, it is equally important to avoid falling for the appeal to novelty.  This fallacy occurs when one infers that something is correct or better simply because it is new or non-traditional. This sort of “reasoning” has the following form:

 

Premise 1: X is new (or non-traditional).

Conclusion: Therefore, X is correct or better than the old/traditional.

 

This sort of “reasoning” is fallacious because the novelty or newness of something does not automatically make it correct or better than something older. To use a silly example, if someone just created the “earthworm diet” that involves eating only earthworms, it obviously does not follow that this is better than more traditional diets.  In general, the age or traditionality of something provides no evidence for or against its truth or goodness. In the next essay I will get into some deeper philosophical analysis of the appeal to tradition and why it is defective. 

During the COVID-19 Pandemic, Leon County in my adopted state of Florida mandated the wearing of face coverings in indoor, public spaces. There were numerous exceptions, such as while exercising (at a distance) and for health reasons. Those who violate the ordinance faced an initial $50 fine which increased to $125 and then up to $250. As would be expected, this ordinance was met with some resistance. Some even claimed that the mask mandate was tyranny.

While discussing the tyranny of the mask during COVID-19 has some historical value, there is also the general issue of whether such health focused mandates are tyrannical. After all, it is just a matter of time before the next pandemic and the state might impose mandates intended to keep people safe. Or it might not, depending on who is in charge.  

One challenge is agreeing on a serious definition of “tyranny” beyond “something I don’t like.” Since American political philosophy is based heavily on John Locke, he is my go-to for defining the term.

Locke takes tyranny to be the “exercise of power beyond right.” For him, the right use of power is for the good of the citizens and a leader’s use of power for “his own private separate advantage” is exercising that power “beyond right.” Locke also presents some other key points about tyranny, noting that it occurs when “the governor, however entitled:

 

  • Makes his will and not the law the rule
  • Does not direct his commands and actions to the preservation of the properties of his people.
  • Directs them to the satisfaction of his own ambition, revenge, covetousness, or any other irregular passion.”

 

Did the ordinance, and similar impositions, meet the definition? On the face of it, it did not. After all, the aim of the ordinance seemed to be for the good of the citizens: it was aimed at reducing the chances of infection. It was also aimed at allowing businesses and other public places to remain. That is, it was aimed at the preservation of the properties of the people. There is no evidence that those in office used the ordinance for their “own private separate advantage” or were trying to satisfy some “irregular passion.”

It could be argued that while the objectives of the ordinance were not tyrannical, the ordinance involved exercising power “beyond right.” That is, the ordinance overstepped the legitimate limits of the power of the governing body. Since I am not a lawyer, I will focus on the moral aspect: do authorities have the moral right to impose a mask requirement or similar health measure on the people?

While people tend to answer in terms of their likes and dislikes, I will follow J.S. Mill and use principles I consistently apply in cases of liberty versus safety. As in all such cases, my first area of inquiry is into the effectiveness of the proposed safety measures. After all, if we are giving up liberty to gain nothing, this would be both foolish and wrong.

While there is some debate over the effectiveness of masks, the consensus of experts is that they do help prevent the spread of the virus. There is also the intuitively plausible argument that face coverings reduce the spread of the virus because they reduce the volume and distance of expulsions. They also block some of what is incoming. Medical professionals have long used these masks for these reasons. In future pandemics, we will also need to evaluate the effectiveness of proposed measures in good faith.

But wearing a mask is not without its costs. Aside from the cost of buying or making masks, they are uncomfortable to wear, they interfere with conversations, and it is hard to look good in a mask. While breathing does require a tiny bit more effort, this is generally not a significant factor for most. Those with pre-existing conditions impacting their breathing are more likely to be severely impacted by COVID-19—but they will need to rationally weigh the relative risks. Anecdotally, I did not find the masks problematic for normal wear, but I used to run wearing a face mask during the Maine winters to keep my face from freezing. That said, the “paper” masks were uncomfortable to wear when they were soaked with sweat, but I was almost always able to rely on distancing while running.

Weighing the effectiveness of the masks against the harm, they seem to have had a decisive safety advantage: by enduring some minor discomfort for short periods of time you could reduce your risk of being infected with a potentially lethal disease. You also reduced the risk of infecting others. Again, whatever measures are proposed during the next pandemic will also need to be assessed in this way.

The second issue to address is whether the gain in safety warrants the imposition on liberty. After all, some people did not want to wear masks, and it is an imposition to require this under the threat of punishment. My go to guide on this is the principle of harm presented by J.S. Mill.

Mill contends that “the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others.” I will rely on Mill’s arguments for his principle but agree it can be criticized in favor of alternative principles.

During the discussion of his principle Mill argues that we (collectively) have no right to infringe on a person’s liberty just because doing so would be good for them or even to prevent them from harming themselves. As long as their actions impact only themselves, their liberty is absolute. Applying this to the masks, if they only served to protect a person from infection, then Mill’s principle would forbid their imposition: people have the liberty of self-harm. If this had been true, I would have agreed with those who saw masks as tyranny: they have the moral right to put themselves at risk if doing so does not harm others. As they say, their body, their choice.

To use an analogy, If I want to go shooting without wearing any eye protection (and I have medical insurance), I have the right to be stupid and risk losing an eye. But the masks do more than protect the wearer; they also protect other people. If I go out without a mask and I am unaware I am infected, I am putting other people in greater danger—I am potentially harming them. As such, it is no longer just my business, it is their business as well.

Going back to the gun analogy, I do not have a right to just shoot my gun around whenever and wherever I want since doing so puts other people at risk of injury and death. I can be rightfully prevented from doing this. To use another analogy, while I think a person has the moral right to turn off their airbag in their car and face a greater risk of injury or death, they do not have the right to remove their brakes since that would put everyone in danger.

The obvious conclusion is that the imposition of masks was not tyranny. In fact, it is an excellent example of how the state should exercise its power: for the protection of the citizens based on the best available evidence. When the next pandemic arrives, the same approach should be taken. Assuming that the government tries to do anything to address it.

In the previous essay I discussed guilt by association. Not surprisingly, there is an equal but opposite temptation: to refuse to acknowledge bad elements in groups one likes. Giving in to this temptation can result in committing a version of the purity fallacy which could be called the Denial of Association.

This version of the fallacy occurs when a negative claim about a group based on certain members is rejected by asserting, without adequate support, that the alleged members are not true members of the group. This fallacy is also known as the No True Scotsman fallacy thanks to the philosopher Anthony Flew. For example, if a 2nd Amendment rights group is accused of being racist, they might say that those displaying racist symbols at their events were not real members. This version of the fallacy has the following form:

 

Premise 1: Negative claim P has been made about group G based on M members of G.

Premise 2: It is claimed, without support, that the members of M are not true members of G.

Conclusion: Claim P is false.

 

This reasoning is fallacious because simply asserting that problematic alleged members are not true members does not prove that the claim is not true about the group. As always, it is important to remember that fallacious reasoning does not entail that the conclusion is false. A group’s defender could commit this fallacy while their conclusion is correct; they would have simply failed to give a good reason to accept their claim.

Like many fallacies, it draws its persuasive power from psychological factors. Someone who has a positive view of the group has a psychological, but not logical, reason to reject the negative claim. Few are willing to believe negative things about groups they like or identify with. In Flew’s original example, a Scotsman refuses to believe a story about the bad behavior of other Scotsmen on the grounds that no true Scotsman would do such things. People can also reject the claim on pragmatic grounds, such as when doing so would provide a political advantage.

The main defense against this fallacy is to consider whether the negative claim is rejected on principled grounds or is rejected without evidence, such as on psychological or pragmatic grounds. One way to try to overcome a psychological bias is to ask what evidence exists to reject the counterexample. If there is no such evidence, then all that would be left are psychological or pragmatic reasons, which have no logical weight.

Sorting out who or what belongs in a group can be a matter of substantial debate. For example, when people displaying racist symbols show up at gun rights events or protests the question arises as to whether the protesters should be regarded, in general, as racist. Some might contend those openly displaying racist symbols should not define the broader group of protesters. Others contend that by tolerating the display of racist symbols the general group shows that it is racist. As another example, those peacefully protesting police violence generally disavow those who engage in violence and vandalism and claim that the violent protesters do not define their group. Others contend that because violence and looting sometimes occurs adjacent to or after peaceful protests, the protesters are violent looters. College students peacefully protesting Israel’s actions contend that they are not antisemitic and disavow antisemitism, but their right-wing critics claim they are antisemitic. In some cases, there are actual antisemites involved. In other cases, merely criticizing Israel is cast as antisemitic.

Debates over group membership need not be fallacious. If a principled argument is given to support the exclusion, then this fallacy is not committed. For example, if a fictional 2nd amendment rights organization “Anti-Racists for Gun Rights” (ARGR) was accused of being racist because people at their protest displayed racist symbols, showing that none of the racists were members of ARGR would not commit this fallacy.

As another example, if peaceful protesters show that those who engaged in violence and looting are not part of their group, then it would not be fallacious for them to reject the claim that they are violent on the grounds that those committing the violence are not in their group. As a third example, if college students peacefully protesting Israel show that the people shouting antisemitic slogans at the protest were neo-Nazis from off campus, then they would not be committing this fallacy.

Sorting out which people belong to a group and how the group should be defined can be challenging; but should be done in a principled way. To define a group by the worst of those associated with it runs the risk of committing the guilt by association fallacy. Denying that problematic members are not true members of a group runs the risk of committing the denial of association fallacy. While both fallacies are psychologically appealing and can be highly effective means of persuasion, they have no merit as arguments.

As a practical matter, the unprincipled use both fallacies in efforts to advance their goals in bad faith. After all, what matters to them is “winning” rather than what is true and good.

It is tempting to define a group you do not like by the worst people associated with it, but this can lead to committing the fallacy of guilt by association. To illustrate, conservative protests sometimes include people openly displaying racist symbols and this can lead leftists to conclude that all the protestors are racists. As another example, protests against Israel’s actions sometimes include people who make antisemitic statements, and this leads some people to categorize the protests as antisemitic. While this is often done in bad faith, people can sincerely make unwarranted inferences about protests from the worst people present.

Since people generally do not make their reasoning clear, it often must be reconstructed. One possible line of bad reasoning is the use of a hasty generalization. A hasty generalization occurs when a person draws a conclusion about a population based on a sample that is not large enough to adequately support the concussion. It has the following form:

 

Premise 1: Sample S (which is too small) is taken from population P.

Premise 2: In Sample S X% of the observed A’s are B’s.

Conclusion: X% of all A’s are B’s in Population P.

 

This is a fallacy because the sample is too small to warrant the inference. In the case of the protesters, inferring that most conservative protesters are racists based on some of them displaying racist symbols would be an error. Likewise, inferring that most people protesting Israel are antisemitic because some of them say antisemitic things would also be an error. At this point it is likely that someone is thinking that even if most conservative protesters are not open racists, they associate with them—thus warranting the inference that they are also guilty. Likewise, someone is probably thinking that people protesting Israel are guilty of antisemitism because of their association with antisemites. This leads us to the guilt by association fallacy.

The guilt by association fallacy has many variations but this version occurs when it is inferred that a group or individual has bad qualities because of their  (alleged) association with groups or individuals who have those qualities. The form of the fallacy is this:

 

Premise 1: Group or person A is associated with group or person B

Premise 2: Group or person B has (bad) qualities P, Q, R.

Conclusion: Group A has (bad) qualities P, Q, R.

 

The error is that the only evidence offered is the (alleged) association between the two. What is wanting is an adequate connection that justifies the inference. In the conservative protester example, the protesters might be associated with protesters displaying racist symbols, but this is not enough to warrant the conclusion that they are racists. More is needed than a mere association. The more is, as one would imagine, a matter of considerable debate: those who loath conservatives will tend to accept relatively weak evidence as supporting their biased view; those who like the protesters might be blind even to the strongest evidence. Likewise for people protesting Israel. But whatever standards are used to judge association, they must be applied consistently—whether one loathes or loves the group or person.

As noted above, people who have protested Israel have been accused of association with antisemites. But the same standards applied to conservative protesters need to be applied: to infer that because some protesters have been observed to be antisemitic then most (or all) are as well would commit the hasty generalization fallacy. Naturally, if there is evidence showing that most conservative protesters are racist or evidence showing that most (or all) people who protest Israel are antisemitic, then the fallacy would not be committed.

To infer that those protesting Israel are antisemitic because some associated with the protests are antisemitic would commit the guilt by association fallacy, just as the fallacy would be committed if one inferred that conservative protesters are racists because they are associated with racists. Obviously, if there is adequate evidence supporting these claims, then the fallacy would not be committed.