Category: Critical Thinking

Power holders in the United States tend to be white, male, straight, and (profess to be) Christian. Membership in these groups also seems to confer a degree of advantage relative to people outside of these groups. Yet, as been noted in the previous essays, some claim that the people in these groups are now the “real victims.” In this essay I will look at how a version of the fallacy of anecdotal evidence can be used to “argue” about who is “the real victim.”

The fallacy of anecdotal evidence is committed when a person draws a conclusion about a population based on an anecdote (a story) about one or a small number of cases. The fallacy is also committed when someone rejects reasonable statistical data supporting a claim in favor of a single example or small number of examples that go against the claim. The fallacy is sometimes taken to be a version of the hasty generalization fallacy (drawing a conclusion from a sample that is too small to adequately support that conclusion). The main difference between hasty generalization and anecdotal evidence is that the fallacy anecdotal evidence involves using a story (anecdote) as the sample.

Here is the form of the anecdotal evidence fallacy often used to “argue” that an advantaged group is not advantaged:

 

Premise 1: It is claimed that statistical evidence shows that Group A is advantaged relative to Group B

Premise 2: A member of Group A was disadvantaged relative to a member of Group B.

Conclusion: Group A is not advantaged relative to Group B (or Group B is not disadvantaged relative to Group A).

 

 

To illustrate:

 

Premise 1: It is claimed that statistical evidence shows that white Americas are advantaged relative to black Americans.

Premise 2: Chad, a white American, was unable to get into his first choice of colleges because affirmative action allowed Anthony, a black American, to displace him.

Conclusion: White Americans are not advantaged relative to black Americans.

 

The problem with the logic is that an anecdote does not suffice to establish a general claim because an adequately large sample is needed to make a strong generalization. But one must also be on guard against another sort of fallacy:

 

Premise 1: It is claimed that statistical evidence shows that Group A is advantaged relative to Group B.

Premise 2: Member M of Group A is disadvantaged relative to Member N of Group B.

Conclusion: The disadvantage of M is morally acceptable, or M is not really disadvantaged.

 

To illustrate:

 

Premise 1: It is claimed that statistical evidence shows that men are advantaged relative to women.

Premise 2: Andy was disadvantaged relative to his boss Sally when she used her position to sexually harass him.

Conclusion: The disadvantage of Andy is morally acceptable, or Andy was not really disadvantaged.

 

 

While individual cases do not disprove a body of statistical evidence they should not be ignored. As in the illustration given above, while men generally have a workplace advantage over women, this does not entail that individual men are never at a disadvantage relative to individual women. It also does not entail that, for example, men cannot be the victims of sexual harassment by women.  As another illustration, while white men dominate academics, business, and politics, this does not entail that there are not injustices against specific white men in such things as admission, hiring and promotions. These sorts of situations can lead to moral debates about harm.

One excellent example is the debate over affirmative action. An oversimplified justification is that groups that have been historically disadvantaged are given a degree of preference in the selection process. For example, a minority woman might be given preference over a white woman in the case of college admission. The usual moral counter is that the white woman is wronged by this: if she is better qualified, then she should be admitted, even if this entails that the college population will remain almost entirely white.

The usual counter to this is that the white woman is likely to appear better qualified because she has enjoyed the advantages conferred from being white. For example, her ancestors might have built wealth by owning the ancestors of the black woman who was admitted over her and this inherited wealth meant that her family has been attending college for generations, that she was able to attend excellent schools, and that her family could pay for tutoring and test preparation.

This can be countered by other arguments, such as how the woman did not own slaves herself, so it is unfair for her to not be admitted on the “merit” arising from all these advantages arising from generational wealth. One can, of course, consider scenarios such as cases in which the black woman is from a wealthy family while the white woman is from a poor family. Such cases can, of course, be considered in terms of economic class and one could argue that class should also be a factor. This obviously all leads to the moral issue of whether it is acceptable to inflict some harm on specific members of advantaged groups to address systematic disadvantages, which goes way beyond the scope of this essay.

Fortunately, I do not need to settle this issue here. This is because even if such anecdotes are examples of morally wrong actions, they do not disprove the general statistical claims about relative advantages and disadvantages between groups. For example, even if a few white students are wronged by affirmative action when they cannot attend their first pick of schools, these anecdotes do not disprove the statistical evidence of the relative advantage conferred by being white in America. After all, the claim of advantage is not that each white person is always advantaged over everyone else on an individual-by-individual basis. Rather it is about the overall advantages that appear in statistics such as wealth and treatment by the police. As such, using anecdotes to “refute” statistical data is, as always, a fallacy. But what about cases in which members of an advantaged group do suffer a statistically meaningful disadvantage in one or more areas?

While falling victim to the fallacy of anecdotal evidence is bad logic, it is not an error to consider that members of an advantaged group might face a significant disadvantage (or harm) because of their membership in that advantaged group. As would be expected, any example used here will be controversial. I will use the Fathers’ Rights movement as the example. The central claim behind this movement is that fathers are systematically disadvantaged relative to mothers. While there are liberal and conservative versions, the general claim is that fathers and mothers should have parity in the legal system on this matter. Critics, as would be expected, claim that men tend to already enjoy a relative advantage here. But if the Fathers’ Rights movement is correct about fathers being systematically disadvantaged relative to mothers, then this would not be mere anecdotal reasoning. That is, it would not just be a few cases in which individual fathers were disadvantaged relative to a few individual mothers, it would be systematic injustice. But would this area of relative disadvantage disprove the claim of general advantage? Let us look at the reasoning:

 

Premise 1: It is claimed that statistical evidence shows that Group A is advantaged relative to Group B.

Premise 2: But Group A is disadvantaged relative to Group B in specific area C.

Conclusion: Group A is not advantaged relative to Group B.

 

As presented, this would be an error in reasoning because Group A being disadvantaged in one area would not prove that the group is not advantaged relative to Group B when all areas are considered. To use an analogy, the fact that Team B outscored Team A in the fifth inning of a baseball game does not entail that B is leading. It must be noted that a similar argument with multiple premises like Premise 2 could show that Group A is not advantaged relative to Group B. After all, establishing adequate statistical evidence would obviously be adequate. There are, of course, questions about how to determine relative advantage and these can be debated in good faith. One obvious point of dispute would be the matter of weighting. For example, if fathers are disadvantaged relative to mothers, how would this count relative to the pay gap between men and women? And so on for all areas of comparison. This does show the need to consider each area as well as a need for assessing value but this is not unique to the situation at hand and one could, as is often done, assign crude dollar values to do the math.

In closing, while individual wrongs and wrongs done to members of advantaged groups as members of that group can occur, they do not automatically disprove the statistical data. 

As the death toll from COVID-19 rose, people on social media started asking if anyone personally knew someone who had gotten COVID or died from it. I first thought they were curious or concerned but then I noticed a correlation: people who asked this question tended to be COVID doubters. For them, the question was not a sincere inquiry but a rhetorical tactic and an attempt to lure people into fallacious reasoning. In this essay I will look at this sort of question as a rhetorical tool.

This question can be raised about things other than COVID, so the generic question is “do you personally know anyone who X?” Used as rhetoric, the purpose is to garner either a “no” responses or no response at all. If this succeeds, it can create the impression that X is rare or does not occur. It can also create the impression that X is not serious. In the case of COVID, one goal was to create the impression that COVID is rare. Another goal was to create the impression that it is not that bad. Future pandemics will see the tactic used again.

Rhetoric is logically neutral in that it neither counts for nor against the truth of a claim. Its purpose is to influence feelings, and this is often aimed at making it easier to get people to accept or reject a claim. To use an analogy, rhetoric is like the flavoring or presentation of food: it makes it more (or less) appealing but has no effect on nutritional value. As flavoring and presentation is compatible with serving nutritional food, rhetoric is compatible with serving plausible claims and good arguments. Rhetoric can be used to influence an audience to accept a true claim. For example, a person who wants to protect sharks might address worries about shark attacks by asking the audience if anyone has been attacked by a shark. They are hoping that no one will say “yes” and plan on using that to make the audience receptive to their boring statistics showing that shark attacks are incredibly rare. 

There is an obvious risk in using this rhetorical device: it can backfire if someone says “yes”, especially if they tell a vivid story. Psychologically, people are influenced more by anecdotes (especially vivid ones) than by dull statistics. This underlies the fallacies of anecdotal evidence (rejecting statistical data in favor of a story) and misleading vividness (estimating likelihood based on how vivid an event is rather than based on how often it occurs). In the case of the shark example, if someone stands up and says a shark bit their arm off, then this will probably outweigh the statistical data about shark attacks in the minds of the audience. As such, this method can be risky to use.

If this tactic backfires and you are making a true claim, you can try to get the audience to accept the statistical data while honestly acknowledging that rare events can occur. If this tactic backfires and you are trying to deceive the audience, then there are various rhetorical tactics and fallacies that can be used. One tactic is to launch an ad hominem attack on the person who says “yes” and the usual approach is to accuse them of lying. If the attack is successful, this can make the rhetoric even more effective as those who fall for it will tend to reject anyone else who says “yes.” This is, of course, unethical.

It must also be noted that this sort of rhetoric can also be aimed at getting a “yes” response, though this is less common than the one aimed at getting “no.” The same general principles apply to this version.

If you want to be a critical thinker, you should recognize the rhetorical device that proves nothing. It must also be noted that its use disproves nothing because it would be an error to reject a person’s claim because they use this (or any) rhetoric. While rhetoric is neutral, fallacies are always bad, and this sort of question can be seen as being fallacy bait. That is, it is aimed at getting people to use or fall for fallacious reasoning.

One possibility is that the question is aimed at getting the audience to engage in the fallacy of anecdotal evidence. This fallacy is committed when a person draws a conclusion about a population based on an anecdote (a story) about one or a very small number of cases. The fallacy is also committed when someone rejects reasonable statistical data supporting a claim in favor of a single example or small number of examples that go against the claim. It has the following forms:

 

Form One

Premise 1: Anecdote A is told about a member (or small number of members) of Population P.

Conclusion: Claim C is inferred about Population P based on Anecdote A.

 

Form Two

Premise 1: Reasonable statistical evidence S exists for general claim C.

Premise 2: Anecdote A is presented that is an exception to or goes against general claim C.

Conclusion: General claim C is rejected.

 

It can also be used to lure people into accepting or making the hasty generalization fallacy. This fallacy is committed when a person draws a conclusion about a population based on a sample that is not large enough. It has the following form:

 

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

Conclusion: Claim C is drawn about Population P based on S.

 

The person committing the fallacy is misusing the following type of reasoning, which is known variously as Inductive Generalization, Generalization, and Statistical Generalization:

 

Premise 1: X% of all observed A’s are B’s.

Conclusion: Therefore X% of all A’s are B’s.

 

The fallacy is committed when not enough A’s are observed to warrant the conclusion. If enough A’s are observed, then the reasoning would not commit the hasty generalization fallacy. As you might have noticed, anecdotal evidence and hasty generalization are similar: both involve drawing a general conclusion based on a sample that is too small.

The “do you personally know anyone who X?” question can be used to lure people into making or accepting these fallacies in the following ways. If a few people respond “no”, then these can be taken as anecdotes that “prove” that X does not happen often (or is not serious). These “no” responses could also be taken as “disproving” a claim that is based on good statistical evidence. They could also be used as the basis of hasty generalization. For example,  to infer that because a few people said “no” to a question on Twitter, then the same holds true for the general population. A lack of responses could also be used as “evidence” in a hasty generalization. For example, someone might reason like this: no one responded “yes” to a question on Facebook, so the answer must be “no” for the general population.

While I have been focused on people raising the question in contexts in which they can get an answer, the tactic can be used in one-way communication as well (such as a YouTube video or televised speech). A person can ask this sort of question in the hope that their target audience will be influenced. For example, a politician might ask “do you personally know anyone who has died of COVID?” in the hopes of getting the audience to believe that the COVID death toll presented by credible media sources is exaggerated.

It must be noted that the same fallacies can be committed with “yes” answers. To illustrate, if a few people respond with “yes” to a Twitter question, it would also be an error to generalize to the entire population. It must also be noted that if the question is being asked in a properly conducted survey that has a large and unbiased sample, then this would probably not be intended to lure people into a fallacy. The conclusion of such a strong generalization would be reasonable to believe. Of course, the conclusion might be that many people believe something that is untrue, but it would be reasonable to believe that many people (mistakenly) believe that untrue claim.

The tactic of using this rhetorical question to bait people into fallacies is most effective when the X is something that is statistically uncommon so there is a good chance that an individual would not personally know someone who X. If X is common or the truth about X is well accepted, then this tactic will usually fail. For example, asking “do you personally know anyone who has heart disease?” would not be an effective way to get people to engage in fallacious reasoning about heart disease. This is because many people know people who have heart disease, and it is well known that it is common. As such, this tactic usually requires an X that is not too common, and which is not well known. But it is possible to undermine belief and make this tactic work.

This tactic can be effective in situations in which an occurrence is significant or serious, yet it is uncommon enough that many people will not personally know someone who has been affected. Take, for example, COVID-19. Back during the early days of the pandemic, I had 826 friends on Facebook. At that time, I personally knew two people who had been infected and did not (yet) personally know anyone who had died. As such, it would have seemed almost reasonable to infer that COVID-19 was not a big deal. However, I also do not know anyone personally who was killed on 9/11. Although I personally know several people who are active duty or veterans, I do not know anyone personally who was killed in action. I could go through lists of causes of death or serious injuries/illness and note that I do not personally know anyone who died or was other harmed. But it should be obvious that it would be an error to infer that such things do not happen or that they are not serious. In the case of COVID, it is not surprising that I did not personally know someone who died in the early days of the pandemic. Given the scope of who I personally know, it was statistically unlikely that a person who died of COVID would be within that small group. But it does not follow that the death toll from COVID presented by reputable media sources was untrue nor does it follow that COVID was not serious. After all, few would question that 9/11 occurred or was not serious because they did not personally know someone who died that day.

In closing, my main point is to be on guard against being misled by questions like “do you personally know anyone who died of COVID?” While they might be asked sincerely, they can be a rhetorical tactic aimed at baiting you into a fallacy. As the next pandemic is fast approaching, we can expect to see this tactic deployed again.

Suppose you saw a headline saying, “President admits activity was criminal in nature.” If you loath the president, you might infer he did something criminal and rush to post the article on Facebook or tweet it. If you support the president, you will probably interpret it in a way favorable to the president. You might assume the activity was by some enemy of the president or perhaps someone in the administration who betrayed the president with their misdeeds. You might even conclude that it is fake news. But if you are a critical thinker, you would read the article and assess its credibility before drawing an inference about the activity. This headline is an example of a misleading headline, because very different articles could have the same headline.

Saying “the president admits” would tend to lead people to think the president is involved in the activity; either that he committed the act, or someone connected to him did. But the article could be different from what it seems to imply. For example, the article might state that the president is agreeing that an act of violence done by one of his supporters was a crime. As another example, the headline could be extremely misleading, and the president might have made a quick remark about something completely unrelated to him that he agreed is a crime.

For the sake of this essay, I will adopt the general term of “headlining” to cover three aspects of misleading headlines.  The first is the intentional creation of a misleading headline as a rhetorical technique. A misleading headline is not a complete fabrication as that would simply be lying. A misleading headline has some connection to the truth but it is such that it is aimed to deceive the audience. This can be done in a variety of ways, such as using hyperbole (extravagant exaggeration), downplaying (casting it as less serious or less important), using vague or ambiguous wording, or by other rhetorical techniques.

There are, many reasons to create misleading headlines and more than one can apply. One common reason is to create a clickbait headline to generate ad revenue; the idea is that an honest headline would not be as interesting. I am not saying that headlines should be written in a dull manner and a headline that might seem misleading could be defended if it was intended to be interesting rather than to mislead. While there will be unclear cases, we can sort out the intentionally misleading headlines from those with the honest intent to be interesting. It is also worth noting that writers can create misleading headlines unintentionally due to failure of skill rather than a failure of honesty.

Another reason for a misleading headline is as a tool to influence the audience without using outright falsehood. Many biased sites and organizations have two seemingly conflicting goals. The first is to push a narrative and shape beliefs. The second is to retain some credibility as source of information.  Misleading headlines sitting atop factually correct stories allow a site to achieve both goals: the headlines allow them to mislead while the stories allow them to claim they are doing truthful reporting. The writers and editors might even have moral qualms about lying outright but be willing to mislead without technically lying.

The second aspect of headlining is when a reader is influenced to believe what the misleading headline is intended to imply. That is, they have been tricked into believing an untrue interpretation. For example, a person seeing the headline “President admits activity was criminal in nature” used by a site hostile to the president might interpret it as “president admits he committed a crime” and rush to Facebook to post about it. In truth, the president might have just agreed when asked if some crime done by a foreign leader was a crime. In this case the person is a victim of deceit: they believed the news source but have been misled by the headline. This is different from believing an outright lie as a misleading headline is not a complete fabrication and it often sits atop content that is not entirely untrue.

In such a case, the person is making three mistakes. The first is interpreting the headline in a misleading way without considering other plausible interpretations. The second is not reading the article. The third is not being critical of the claim and assessing it. The defense against falling for misleading headlines involves avoiding these three errors.

The third aspect of headlining is intentional misuse of misleading headlines. This occurs when the person is aware that the headline is misleading, but they use of it for their own purposes, often by posting the article on social media with their preferred interpretation of the headline. For example, a person who loathes the president might know that the “President admits activity was criminal in nature” headline is about the president agreeing that a foreign leader committed a crime. But they might post a link to the article while making some claim about the president’s guilt in the hope that others will be misled.

A person might even go so far as to create an entire YouTube video based on intentionally misinterpreting headlines. Such people might be called out for this by someone else on YouTube. People can, of course, also just lie about the content of an article and use that to make their straw man argument.

A defense against this tactic has three parts. The first is questioning the interpretation and considering other plausible interpretations. The second is to read the actual article to see the content. The third is being critical of the claims made and applying the rational methods of claim assessment. So, always go beyond the headlines.

Since I teach philosophy, I am sometimes asked how to win an argument. Being a philosopher, I disappoint those asking with philosophical discussion rather than providing tips on how to destroy an opponent with “facts” and “logic.”

In philosophy, an argument is a set of claims. There are two types of claims in an argument: one conclusion and one or more premises.  The conclusion is the claim that is supposed to be supported by the premises. A premise is a claim given as evidence or a reason for accepting the conclusion.  As such, making an argument requires making a point (conclusion) and backing it up with evidence or reasons (premises).

When assessing an argument there are two main factors to consider: the quality of the premises and the quality of the reasoning. When assessing the quality of reasoning, the question is: Do the premises logically support the conclusion? If the premises do not logically support the conclusion, then the argument is flawed, and the conclusion should not be accepted based on the premises provided. The conclusion may be true, but a flawed argument gives you no logical reason to believe the conclusion because of that argument. If the premises do logically support the conclusion, then you would have a good reason to accept the conclusion, on the assumption that the premises are true or at least plausible.

When assessing the quality of the premises, the question to ask is: are the premises true (or at least plausible)?  While the testing of premises can be a rather extensive matter, it is reasonable to accept a premise as plausible if it meets three conditions. First, the premise is consistent with your own observations. Second, the premise is consistent with your background beliefs and experience. Third, the premise is consistent with credible sources, such as experts, standard references, and textbooks.

In terms of winning, the constructing of a philosophical argument in isolation is like playing solitaire: winning is not beating someone else. A solitaire win would be constructing a good argument with plausible premises. But this is certainly not the sort of winning that people are interested in. What they want is the victory conditions for an argument against someone else.

In the case of arguing philosophically, the contest would be settled in favor of the best argument(s).  As such, winning is a matter of having better logic and more plausible premises than the opposition. In the ideal, the result would be to find something (likely to be) true. Such contests must also be conducted in good faith and in accord with the philosophical principle of charity. This does not mean that the two sides cannot be engaged in an intense dispute in which claims and logic are called into question. To use an analogy, competing in such an argument is analogous to competing in good faith in an athletic event: one abides by the agreed upon rules and does not cheat. And of course, victory goes to the one who earns it by making the better arguments. Obviously enough, this is not the sort of winning people tend to have in mind when they think of winning an argument.  What people tend to think of is something Ben Shapiro is famous for: his guide to winning arguments against leftists. The underlying view of winning is not unique to Ben Shapiro and one can easily trace this notion back to the Sophists of ancient Greece and no doubt even further into the shadows of time. 

In this context you win if the audience believes you and rejects your opponent, whether what you are claiming is true or whether your logic is good. While philosophical arguments can be used to persuade people, they tend (as Aristotle noted) to be the weakest means of persuasion. As such, if you want to win an argument, then good logic is usually your worst tool. Fallacies (errors in reasoning) are far more effective than good arguments as tools of persuasion. Rhetorical devices, which rely on emotive force, are also effective at persuading people and thus are better weapons than good arguments. While a fallacy can have a true conclusion and rhetoric can be used to dress up the truth, these tools do not reliably lead to the truth. Used well, however, they can reliably persuade.

Philosophers are often critical of this concept of winning in the same way honest athletes are critical of cheating. To use an analogy, consider winning a marathon. One way to win the marathon is to train hard, complete the race fairly, and earn the win. But there are other ways to win the prize. One option is to compete unfairly by using pharmaceuticals or blood doping. One could also cut the course or bribe officials. There are many ways to “win” and get the prize without competing in good faith. Likewise, an argument can be “won” using fallacies, rhetoric and lies. That is, one can be crowned the winner in the same way as the marathon cheat steals their laurels.

It could be countered that in argumentation what really matters is winning. So, if a politician or YouTuber can profit by persuading people to accept their views through fallacies, rhetoric and lies then they have beaten their opponents even (or especially) if their opponents are making true claims. The obvious counter is to draw the analogy to sports: winning matters but winning must be earned through an honest path to victory. Otherwise, one is stealing the laurels. Having the trophy does not make one the best and “winning” does not make one right.

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.