During the next pandemic, accurate information will be critical to your wellbeing and even survival. Some sources will mean well but will unintentionally spread misinformation. Malicious sources will be spreading disinformation. While being an expert in a relevant field is the best way to sort out which sources to trust, most of us are not experts in these areas. But we are not helpless. While we cannot become medical experts overnight, you can learn skills for assessing sources.

When you accept a claim based on the (alleged) expertise of a source, you are using an argument from authority. Despite its usefulness it is a relatively weak argument. Because you do not have direct evidence for the claim, you are relying on the source to be both accurate and honest. Despite the inherent weakness in this argument, a true expert is more likely to be right than wrong when making considered claims within their area of expertise. While the argument is usually presented informally, it has the following structure:

 

Premise 1: A is (claimed to be) an authority on subject S.

Premise 2:  A makes claim C about subject S.

Conclusion: Therefore, claim C is true.

 

As an informal example, when you believe what your doctor or HVAC technician claims, you are using an argument from authority.  But how do you know when an alleged authority really is an expert? Fortunately, there are standards you can use even if you know little or nothing about the claim. To the degree that the argument meets the standards, then it is reasonable to accept the conclusion. If the argument does not meet the standards, it would be a fallacy (a mistake in logic) to accept the conclusion. It would also be a fallacy to reject the conclusion because the appeal to authority was fallacious. This is because poor reasoning can still have a true conclusion; rather like how someone can guess the right answer to a math problem. Here are the standards for assessment.

First, the person must have sufficient expertise in the subject. A person’s expertise is determined by their relevant education (formal and otherwise), experience, accomplishments, reputation, and position. These should be carefully assessed to consider how well they establish expertise. For example, a person might be the head of a government agency because of family connections or political loyalty rather than ability or knowledge. The degree of expertise required also varies with the context. For example, someone who has completed college biology courses could be considered an expert when they claim that a virus replicates in living creatures by hijacking the cell mechanism. But a few college courses in biology would not make them an expert in epidemiology.

Second, the claim must be in the person’s area of expertise.  Expertise in one area does not automatically confer expertise in another. For example, being a world-renowned physicist does not automatically make a person an expert on morality or politics. Unfortunately, this is often overlooked or intentionally ignored. Actors and musicians, for example, are often accepted as experts in fields beyond their artistic expertise. Billionaires are also often wrongly regarded as experts in many areas based on the mistaken view that being rich entails broad expertise. This does not mean that their claims outside their field are false, just that they lack the expertise to provide a good reason to accept the claim.

Third there needs to be an adequate degree of agreement among the other experts in the field. If there is no adequate agreement it would be a fallacy to appeal to the disputing experts. This is because for any claim made by an expert there will be a counterclaim by another qualified expert. In such cases appealing to the authorities would be futile.

That said, no field has complete agreement, so a certain degree of dispute is acceptable when using this argument. How much is acceptable is a matter of debate, but the majority view of the qualified experts is what it is rational to believe. While they could turn out to be wrong, they are more likely to be right. Even if there is broad consensus, non-experts often make the mistake of picking a dissenting expert they agree with as being right. This is not good reasoning; agreeing with an expert is not a logical reason to believe they are right.

Fourth, the expert must not be significantly biased. Examples of biasing factors include financial gain, political ideology, sexism, and racism. A person’s credibility is reduced to the degree that they are biased. While everyone has biases, it becomes a problem when the bias is likely to unduly influence the person. For example, a doctor who owns a company that produces anti-viral medication could be biased when making claims about the efficacy of the medication. But while bias is a problem, it would also be a mistake to reject a person’s claim solely because of alleged bias. After all, a person could resist their biases and even a biased person can be right. Going with the anti-viral example, rejecting the doctor’s claim that it works because they can gain from its sale would be an ad hominem fallacy. While unbiased experts can be wrong, an unbiased expert is more credible than a biased expert—other factors being equal. 

Fifth, the area of expertise must be a legitimate area or discipline. While there can be debate about what counts as a legitimate area, there are clear cases. For example, if someone claims to be an expert in magical healing crystals and recommends using magic quartz to ward off Ebola, then it would be unwise to accept their claim.  In contrast, epidemiology is a legitimate field.

Sixth, the authority must be identified. If a person says a claim is true based on an anonymous expert, there is no way to tell if that person is a real expert. This does not make the claim false (to think otherwise would be a fallacy) but without the ability to assess the unnamed expert, you have no way of knowing if they are credible.  In such cases, suspending judgment can be a rational option. As would be expected, unnamed experts are often used on social media, and it is wise to be even more wary about anything on those. It is also wise to be wary of false attributions; for example, someone might circulate false claims and attribute them to a credible expert.

Finally, the expert needs to be honest and trustworthy. While being honest means that a person is saying what they think is true, it does not follow that they are correct. But an honest expert is more credible than a source that is inclined to dishonesty. But to infer that a dishonest source must be wrong would also be an error. After all, the dishonest source might be right this time perhaps while believing they are lying.

While these standards have been presented in terms of assessing individuals, the same standards apply to institutions and groups. While this is true of individuals, you should update your assessments of groups as they change over time. For example, a federal agency that was staffed by experts and headed by and expert would be trustworthy; but if that agency was gutted and had its personal replaced with political loyalists, then it would now lack authority.

While assessing the credibility of sources is always important, the next pandemic will make this a matter of life and death. Those of us who are not epidemiologists or medical professionals must rely on others for information. While some people will provide accurate information, there will also be well-meaning people unintentionally spreading unsupported or even untrue claims. There will also be people knowingly spreading disinformation. Your well-being and even survival will depend on being able to determine which sources are credible and which are best avoided.

There are two types of credibility: rational and rhetorical. While a bit oversimplified, rational credibility means that you should logically believe the source and rhetorical credibility means that you feel you should believe the source. The difference between the two rests on the distinction between logical force and psychological force.

Logical force is objective and is a measure of how well the evidence for a claim supports it. In the case of logical arguments, this is assessed in ways ranging from applying the standards of an inductive argument, to creating a truth table to working through deductive proof. To the degree that a source has rational credibility it is logical to accept the relevant claims from that source.

Psychological force is subjective and is a measure of how much emotional influence something has on a person’s willingness to believe a claim. This is assessed in practical terms: how effective was it in persuading someone to accept the claim? While the logical force of an argument is independent of the audience, psychological force is audience dependent. What might persuade one person to accept a claim might enrage another into rejecting it with extreme prejudice. Political devotion provides an excellent example of the relativity of psychological force. If you present a claim to Democrats and Republicans and attribute it to Trump, you will get different reactions.

Psychological force provides no reason or evidence for a claim.  But it is more effective at persuading people than logical force. To use an analogy, the difference between the two is like the difference between junk food and kale. While junk food is tasty, it lacks nutritional value. While kale is good for you, many people find it unappealing. Because of this distinction, when people ask me how to “win” arguments, I always ask them what they mean by “win.” If they mean “provide proof that my claim is true”, then I say they should use logic. If they mean “get people to feel I am right, whether I am right or not”, then I say they should focus on psychological force. Rhetoric and fallacies (bad logic) have far more psychological force than good logic, which creates no end of problems.

The vulnerability of people to psychological force makes it dangerous during a pandemic. When people assess sources based on how they feel, they are far more likely to accept disinformation and misinformation. This leads to acting on false beliefs which can get people killed. Health and survival during a pandemic depend on being able to correctly assess sources and this requires being able to neutralize (or at least reduce) the influence of psychological force. This is a hard thing to do, especially since the fear and desperate hope created by a pandemic makes people even more vulnerable to psychological force and less trusting of logic. It is my hope that this guide will provide some small assistance to people in the next pandemic.

One step in weakening psychological force is being aware of factors that are logically irrelevant but psychologically powerful. One set of factors consists of qualities that make people appealing but have no logical relevance to whether their claims are credible. One irrelevant factor is the appearance of confidence. A person who makes eye contact, has a firm handshake, is not sweating, and does not laugh nervously seems credible, which is why scammers and liars learn to behave this way. But reflection shows  these are irrelevant to rational credibility. To use my usual silly math example, imagine someone saying “I used to think 2+2=4, but Billy looked me right in the eye and confidently said 2+2=12. So that must be true.” Obviously, there are practical reasons to look confident when making claims, but confidence proves nothing. And lack of confidence disproves nothing. To use a silly example, “I used to think 2+2=4, but Billy seemed nervous and unsure when he said that 2+2=4. So, he must be wrong.”

Rhetorical credibility also arises from qualities that you might look for in a date or friend. These can include physical qualities such as height, weight, attractiveness and style of dress. These also include age, ethnicity, and gender. But these are all logically irrelevant to rational credibility. To use the silly math example, “Billy is tall, handsome, straight, wearing a suit, and white so when he says that 2+2=12, he must be right!” Anyone should recognize that as bad “logic.”  Yet when a source is appealing, people tend to believe them despite the irrelevance of the appeal. One defense is to ask yourself if you would still believe the claim if it was made by someone unappealing to you.

Rhetorical credibility also arises from good qualities that are irrelevant to rational credibility. These include kindness, niceness, friendliness, sincerity, compassion, generosity and other virtues. While someone who is kind and compassionate will usually not lie, this does not entail that they are a credible source. To use a silly example, “Billy is so nice and kind and he says 2+2=12. I had my doubts at first, but how could someone so nice be wrong?” To use a less silly example, a kind person might be misinformed and unwittingly pass on dangerous disinformation with the best of intentions. A defense is to ask yourself if you would still believe the claim if it was made by someone who has bad qualities. But what about honesty? Surely, we should believe what an honest source says.

While it is tempting to see honesty as the same thing as telling the truth, a more accurate definition is that an honest person says what they think is true. They could be honestly making a false claim. A dishonest person will try to pass off as true what they think is untrue. And even dishonest people do not lie all the time. As such, while honesty does have a positive impact on rational credibility and dishonesty has a negative impact, they are not decisive. But an honest source is preferable to a dishonest one. Sorting out honest and dishonest sources can be challenging.

Group affiliation, ideology and other values have a huge impact on how people judge rhetorical credibility. If a claim is made by someone on your side or matches your values, you will probably be inclined to believe it. For example, Trump supporters will tend to believe what Trump says because Trump says it. If a claim is made by the “other side” or goes against your values, then you will tend to reject it. For example, anti-Trump folks will usually doubt what Trump says.  An excellent historical example of how ideology can provide rhetorical credibility is the case of Stalin and Lysenko—by appealing to ideology Lysenko made his false views the foundation of Soviet science. This provides a cautionary tale worth considering. While affiliations and values lead people to engage in motivated “reasoning” it is possible to resist their lure and try to assess the rational credibility of a source.

One defense is to use my stupid math example as a guide: “Trump says that 2+2=12; Trump is my guy so he must be right!” Or “Trump says 2+2=4, but I hate him so he must be wrong.” Another defense is to try to imagine the claim being made by the other side or someone who has different values. For example, a Trump supporter could have  imagined Obama or Clinton making the claims about Hydroxychloroquine that Trump made. As a reverse example, Trump haters could try the same thing. This is not perfect defense but might help.

While this short guide tries to help people avoid falling victim to rhetorical credibility standards are also needed to determine when you should probably trust a source—that is, standards for rational credibility. That is the subject of the next essay.

Critical thinking can save your life, especially during a pandemic of pathogens, disinformation and misinformation. While we are not in a pandemic as this is being written, it is a question of when the next one will arrive. As our government is likely to be unwilling and unable to help us, we need to prepare to face it on our own. Hence, this series on applying critical thinking to pandemics.

Laying aside academic jargon, critical thinking is the rational assessment of a claim to determine whether you should accept it as probably true, reject it as probably false or suspend judgment. People often forget they can suspend judgment but in the face of misinformation and disinformation this is sometimes the best option.

Suppose you saw a  Facebook post that drinking alcohol will protect you from a viral disease, you saw a tweet about how gargling with bleach can kill viruses,  or you heard President Trump extoling the virtues of hydroxychloroquine as a treatment for COVID. How can you rationally assess these claims if you are not a medical expert? Fortunately, critical thinking can help even those whose medical knowledge is limited to what they saw on Grey’s Anatomy.

When a claim is worth assessing, the first step is to see if you can check it against your own observations and see if it fits them. If it does not, then this is a mark against it. If it does, that is a plus. Take the bleach claim as an example. If you look at a bottle of bleach you will see the safety warnings. While it will probably kill viruses, it is dangerous to gargle it. So, it would be best to reject the claim that you should gargle bleach. While your own observations are a good check on claims, they are not infallible and it is wise to critically consider their reliability.

The second step, which usually happens automatically, is to test the claim against your background information. Your background information is all the stuff you have learned over the years. When you get a claim, you match it up against your background information to get a rough assessment of its initial plausibility. This is how likely it seems to be true upon first consideration. The plausibility will be adjusted should you investigate more. As an example, consider the claim about alcohol’s effect on viruses. On the one hand, you probably know alcohol can sterilize things and this raises the plausibility of the claim. But you probably have not heard of people protecting themselves successfully from the flu or cold (which are caused by viruses) by drinking alcohol. Also, you probably have in your background information that the alcohol used to sterilize is poisonous and differs from, for example, whiskey. So, it would be unwise to believe that drinking alcohol is a good way to protect oneself from viruses.  

One major problem here is that everyone’s background information is full of false beliefs. I know, from experience, that I have had many false beliefs and infer that I still do. I do not know which ones are false, if I did, I would stop believing them. Because of our fallibility, this method has a serious flaw: we could accept or reject a claim because of a false belief. This is why it is a good idea to assess our beliefs. We can only be rationally confident of our assessment of a claim to the degree that our background information is likely to be correct. The more you know, the better you will be at making such assessments.

While having false beliefs can cause errors, people are also affected by biases and fallacies. Since there is a multitude of both, I will only briefly discuss a few that are relevant during a pandemic. People tend to be biased in favor of their group, be it their religion, political party or sports team. Bias inclines people to believe claims made by members of their group, which fuels the group think fallacy: believing a claim is true because you are proud of your group and someone in your group made it. This can also be a version of the appeal to belief fallacy in which one believes claim is true because their group believes that it is true. While pandemics cross party lines, the last pandemic was politicized. Because of this, people with strong partisanship often believe what their side says and disbelieve the other side. But believing based on group membership is bad logic and can get you killed. As such, making rational assessments in a pandemic (or anytime) requires fighting biases and considering claims as objectively as possible. This is a hard thing to do, but it can save your life.

As pandemics are terrifying and people want to have hope, it is wise to be on guard against appeal to fear (scare tactics) and wishful thinking. An appeal to fear occurs when a claim is accepted as true because of fear rather than based on evidence or reasons. For example, if someone believes that migrants are criminals because a news channel made them afraid of migrants, they have fallen for scare tactics.

 It needs to be noted that something that is frightening can also serve as evidence. To illustrate, Ebola is scary because it can kill you. So, reasoning that because it is deadly, you should avoid it is good logic. While emotions affect belief, they are logically neutral whether the feeling is fear or hope.

Wishful thinking is a classic fallacy in which a person believes a claim because they want it to be true (or reject one because they want it to be false). When a pandemic is taking place, it is natural for people to engage in wishful thinking—to believe claims because they want them to be true. For example, a person might think that they will not get sick based on wishful thinking, which can be very dangerous to themselves and others. As another example, someone might believe drinking alcohol will protect them from COVID because they want it to be true; but this is not true. The defense against wishful thinking is not to give up all hope, but to avoid taking hope as evidence. This can be hard to do—objectively considering claims during a pandemic can be depressing. But wishful thinking can get you and others killed. In the next essay, I will discuss how to assess experts and alleged experts.

The philosophical debate over the power and purpose of the state is ancient, but COVID-19 provided a new context for the discussion. Responding to a pandemic requires a robust state and the emergency can be used to justify expanding state power. While such an expansion can be warranted, people should resist setting aside their critical faculties in the heat of a crisis.

One concern is that a pandemic (or any crisis) will be used to infringe upon liberty without addressing the crisis. While a crisis often claims reason as an early victim, the expansion of state power to protect us should be carefully considered in terms of both the loss of liberty and its effectiveness in addressing the crisis. An expansion that does not make us safer is unjustified as we would give up liberty in return for nothing. If the expansion of power makes us safer, then we should still weigh the benefits against the cost, although this assessment will vary. For example, someone who is very afraid of a threat will have a different assessment than someone who thinks it is minor or even a hoax. As another example, someone who values one liberty (say the right to keep and bear arms) will see things differently from someone who does not value that liberty.  While a rational assessment will always have a subjective element, a good faith evaluation is critical. Unfortunately, misinformation and disinformation come into play in such assessments. And, of course, emotions will be factors.

While a rational assessment of expanding the power of state is always important, it is even more important during a crisis. This is because people will be heavily influenced by the strong emotions arising from the crisis and politicians will be trying to exploit this opportunity to expand their power. Businesses and individuals will also try to profit from the expansion of power, often at the expense of others. For example, if the state imposed mandatory tracking during a pandemic, tech companies would be eager to exploit this financial opportunity.

It can be objected that during a crisis there is no time for rational, objective assessment and attempting to do so would be foolish and wrong. While a crisis usually requires immediate action, if there is time to expand state power, then there is time to think about whether to do so. I am not advocating dithering about in pointless debate but advocating giving due consideration to the expansion of state power. It would be foolish and wrong to act without thought.

During the last pandemic, the United States suffered because it did not expand the power of the state in a rational manner. Our leaders knew a crisis was on the way, but many of them delayed, hesitated and took small steps rather than acting aggressively. This was a case where speed was important and the failures were not due to a needless expansion of state power, but a failure to exercise power effectively and decisively.

In addition to carefully considering the expansion of the state’s power, one must also consider the duration of the expansion. An expansion of power that might be justified in a crisis is likely to be unwarranted and unnecessary when the crisis ends. Since rulers are rarely inclined to give up an expansion to their power, it is essential to place a clearly defined and automatic limit on any expansion of power. As a crisis might last longer than predicted, there also need to be rules for how they can be renewed. Otherwise, these expansions can become permanent to the detriment of the people.

There is also the concern that expansion of power can create bloat, such as new positions and entire departments. Such bloat can waste resources and cause inefficiency, something is problematic even in normal times. Bureaucracies tend to grow over time rather than shrink, so the expansion must be limited. That said, there is also a risk in reducing the state too much so that it will be unable to address a future crisis (which is what Musk and Trump seem to be doing as this is being written). The challenge is finding the right balance between being too big and too small; to get it just right. As people often discount the future and engage in wishful thinking, it is challenging to convince people to spend resources to address a crisis that might occur or even one that will occur but at an unknown time. Thus, the expansion and reduction of the state should be carefully considered based on a rational assessment of likely future need. Unfortunately, this approach usually does not win elections.

While expanding state power to respond to a crisis is what people most often think of, a state can also respond by reducing its power. For example, rulers might weaken or suspend regulations or protections for citizens. On the positive side, weakening or even suspending some regulations can be beneficial. For example, during the next pandemic there will be a need to rapidly expand hospitals, so it would be reasonable to suspend or weaken some rules that would impede this. As another example, a need for test kits and treatments can justify weakening or suspending some regulations that would slow things down. Doing so is not without risks but can be justified as one justifies how ambulances drive: going fast and breaking the normal traffic rules creates a danger, but this is supposed to be outweighed by the need for speed.

Just as the expansion of the state must be justified, assessed and kept on a time limit, the same applies to reducing the state. There are obvious concerns that weakening or suspending regulations could do more harm than good. There is also the concern that the unethical will exploit the situation in harmful ways. For example, an unethical pharmaceutical company might exploit weakened regulations to maximize profits. As another example, tech companies might exploit the weakening of privacy laws to gather data they can monetize in harmful ways. Planning for likely crises is what good leaders do; perhaps some will emerge in the next pandemic.

Anyone familiar with sports knows that if team members don’t work together, things will go badly. So good athletes set aside internal conflicts when on the field and come together to win. This does not mean that an athlete should accept anything a teammate might do without complaint. For example, a good athlete would not allow a teammate to cheat or a coach to abuse athletes. As another example, a good athlete would not tolerate a teammate committing domestic violence or engage in dog fighting. While we belong to various competing teams, such as nations, during a pandemic we should all be on the same team since we are playing a deadly game of humans versus pathogens.

Since we should be on the same team during a pandemic, we should set aside our differences and work towards victory. If we fight, bicker and compete against each other, we are hurting the team. If we cooperate, we will help Team Human. As with sports, the more power a person has, the more important it is that they work with the team and set aside less important concerns at least for the duration of the game. While it would be unreasonable to think everyone will be a good team player, there is still the expectation that team members will not try to cause needless conflict or interfere with the effort to win. Unfortunately for the world, there will be people who are bad at being team players, and even some who will actively  cause harm during the next pandemic.

While there are examples outside of the United States, I am an American and have some responsibility for my leaders and fellow citizens. During the last pandemic, Trump was president and can be seen as the head coach of the team America. He should have directed the team to victory, inspired the players and done his job properly.

As noted in other essays, rather than being honest about the facts of the pandemic, Trump and his allies downplayed it and then floated stories about hoaxes. Rather than listen to medical experts, Trump and his fellows spread disinformation and misinformation. Trump and his fellows also delayed our response to the virus, something that cost us dearly. What Trump and his fellows should have done is play for Team Human.  To use an analogy, Trump was like a coach who refused to acknowledge that an opposing team was even on the field. Like a bad coach, Trump insisted his team would not need to practice and prepare, that it would be an easy win. And he lied to the team.

During the pandemic, Trump was consistently Trump.  First, he  engaged in conflicts with governors. Part of the problem was that Trump saw himself as making business deals rather than being the leader of a country in crisis. Another part of the problem is that Trump apparently cannot avoid petty fights. He takes things very personally, something that has generally not been true about other American presidents. For example, while Bush was criticized about his handling of Katrina, Bush did not withhold help because  governors failed to appease his ego. To continue the team analogy, Trump was a like a coach who retaliates against the assistant coaches if they  do not appease his ego. Criticism, however legitimate, was met with hostility and punished. This actively harmed the team.

It could be objected that the governors were also to blame. They had a responsibility to work with his flaws to get what their state needed. So, if the governor of NY needed to praise Trump to keep him from vindictively denying the state full assistance, then he must praise Trump. While this makes pragmatic sense, it is morally horrific. In a democratic country it is not the duty of governors or citizens to appease the ego of the president to get them to do their job. It is the duty of the president to do their job, even in the face of criticism. That is how a responsible government is supposed to work. If a leader cannot step up and do the job, they should step aside. Going back to the team analogy, if a narcissistic coach is damaging the team, the solution is not for the assistant coaches to work harder to appease his ego. The solution is to get a new coach.

Second, Trump advanced the conspiracy theory that medical professionals are stealing protective equipment, citing an unnamed distributor who (allegedly) claimed that the hospital was buying too much equipment for its needs. Pushing this conspiracy theory was damaging. Trump  likes conspiracy theories and often used them to shift blame from himself. But this does the team no good. Going back to the analogy, this would be like the head coach falsely accusing team trainers of stealing supplies and blaming them for his failure to ensure that the supplies would be available for the big game.

Trump supporters might, at this point, accuse me of hypocrisy: “How can you speak of unity while criticizing Trump?” The first reply is from basic logic: even if I were a hypocrite, this would not refute my claims. To think otherwise would be to fall victim to the ad hominem tu quoque. One version of this fallacy involves concluding that because a person’s actions are inconsistent with their claim, their claim must be wrong. But this is bad logic. For example, suppose that Bill claimed adultery is wrong and then committed adultery. This would show that he was a hypocrite but would not disprove his claim.

The second reply is that my view is that we should have critical unity. This is not uncritical unity in which people are expected to just go along with whatever the leaders say and do. Uncritical unity can be worse than a lack of unity. For example, imagine if everyone simply went along with Trump’s initial claims about the virus and no one ever pushed back against his misinformation and disinformation. Things would have been much worse. As another example, imagine that during the next pandemic a “radical leftist” state government legally seized  the property of the rich to distribute the resources to help people survive. Trump supporters would obviously not respond by saying “well, we must unite behind our leaders” and go along with this.

The critical part of critical unity in a crisis does need to have limits. The criticism should be grounded in truth, based in principle and aimed at addressing real problems. Criticizing Trump’s disinformation, misinformation, conspiracy theories, and so on while urging unity is critical unity. I apply the same standards across the political spectrum. So, for example, if a Democratic leader spreads pandemic disinformation or refuses to do their job because they are spatting with a Republican, then I would be critical of them. I will also be supportive across the spectrum when leaders are stepping up and doing the best they can. For example, I disagreed with Ohio Governor Mike DeWine on some things (although we both went to college in Ohio) but I credited him for his serious response to COVID-19.

The lesson here is that we need to have unity in times of crisis (which is obvious), but it would be unwise to have unthinking and uncritical unity (which is equally obvious). While we should work with our leaders, they need to prove worthy of our uniting under their leadership. Trump served as paradigm example of how a leader can actively divide rather than unify in a time of crisis. If he or a similar person (be they a Democrat or Republican) is president during the next pandemic, we can expect things to go just as badly.

As COVID-19 ravaged humanity, xenophobia and racism remained alive and well. For example, an Iranian leader  played on fears of America and Israel. He advanced, without evidence, the claim that the virus was created specifically to target Iranians. In addition to conspiracy theories that the Chinese engineered the virus (either to reduce their own population or for use against other nations) there was also a worldwide rise in xenophobia and racism against Asians.

One reason for the xenophobia and racism is that people were looking for a visible enemy upon which to take out their fear and anger. Many people felt helpless and afraid during the pandemic and as humans are inclined to focus on other humans as threats, there was a rise in xenophobia and racism. People are also inclined to seek an intelligence behind dangers, as they did when they attributed natural disasters to gods. Since humans suffer from in group bias and evil leaders feed xenophobia and racism, it is no surprise that people are sought a scapegoat for the  crisis: someone must be to blame. Someone must pay.

The United States, with a long tradition of racism against Asians, saw an increase in xenophobia and racism. While most incidents were limited to verbal hostility, racism in the context of disease raises serious concerns. The United States has a history of weaponizing racism in the context of diseases and we should be on guard against this, because leaders try to appeal to their base and divert attention away from their failings. An example of an American leader’s effort to use xenophobia and racism is Donald Trump using the term “Chinese virus” in place of “coronavirus” or “COVID-19.”

Trump did have excellent, albeit evil, reasons to use these terms. One is that it appeals to parts of his base. This dog whistle sends the message he is speaking to them.  A second reason is that it shifted blame from Trump’s inept and harmful early handling of the pandemic. By presenting it as a Chinese virus Trump created the appearance the threat is the responsibility of a foreign power (and people) and attempted to mitigate his responsibility. Third, it helped create an “us versus them” mentality, with the “them” being other people rather than the virus. Unfortunately, while Trump gained some apparent advantages from this approach, it came with a high cost.

There are those who will defend Trump and take issue with my criticism of him. My first response is that Trump is just an example for the problem of xenophobia and racism. If a Trump defender claims he was not engaged in any racism or xenophobia, then I would refer to the United States being blamed by other for the virus. I suspect a Trump supporter would agree that the xenophobia of other countries towards the United States was not helpful and was, in fact, detrimental.

My second response is that Trump engaged in in open racism and xenophobia. He used the well-worn xenophobic and racist trope of the foreign disease and the diseased foreigner—which was also used in the racism aimed at the allegedly diseased caravans heading towards the United States from the south. That Trump’s defenders had to engage in relentless efforts to explain away his seemingly racist claims undercuts their own case. One would have needed to argue Trump unintentionally but constantly used racist tropes and language. While not impossible, it does strain the boundaries of possibility.

Another piece of evidence is that Trump used his infamous sharpie to cross out “Corona” in his speech and replace it with “Chinese”, showing his use was intended, rather than a slip.  His defenders could engage in verbal gymnastics to explain this. One strategy was to argue Trump used the phrase “Chinese virus” as “Spanish flu” was used. While this approach has some appeal, using the phrase “Spanish flu” is also problematic. Labeling a disease with a specific country or ethnicity tends to lead to stigma and racism. As such, using the “Spanish Flu” defense is like defending the use of “wetback” by saying that people also used “wop.”

A second strategy is to argue that Trump was just referring to where it came from and, for bonus points, one can point out that it was originally called the “Wu Han virus.” One can say that it cannot have been racist or xenophobic for Trump to use “Chinese virus” because the Chinese used “Wu Han virus.” The easy and obvious reply is that the use of the term “Wu Han virus” was also seen as problematic, for the same reasons that “Spanish flu” and “Chinese virus” are problematic. To use an analogy, this would be like a Chinese leader talking about “Caucasian flu” and saying that was just fine because, for example, Americans first started using a term like “Connecticut flu” when the disease first appeared in Connecticut. Since Trump decided to refer to it as the “Chinese flu” and there are no good reasons to use that term, the best explanation is the obvious one: Trump used a xenophobic and racist dog whistle, cashing in on the well-worn trope of the diseased foreigner and the foreign disease. For those who would try to present this in a positive light, one must ask why do this? And why defend him against the umpteenth reasonable charge of racism and xenophobia?

As noted above, there was already racism and xenophobia against Asians (and Asian Americans) and Trump’s insistence on calling it the “Chinese virus” was likely to have contributed to the uptick in such incidents. Using this sort of label also put the United States at odds with other counties. And other countries blaming us had the same effect. Having Americans turn against other Americans is harmful, especially during a crisis in which community unity is an important part of our survival toolkit. It is also harmful to create conflict between nations when cooperation will improve our response to pandemics. A pandemic is a war between humans and a disease. Creating conflict between humans might serve the selfish goals of some leaders, but it harms humanity. As such, a key lesson from the COVID-19 pandemic is that using racism and xenophobia will only make things worse. As it always does.

In the face of a crisis politicians often have an incentive to conceal, lie and spread disinformation. There seems to be a natural impulse to do these things to avoid blame or perhaps from wishful thinking. A politician might have good reasons to conceal and deceive, such as to not seem weak to other nations or to avoid panicking the population. But concealing facts is likely to make things worse, while disinformation will make it even worse than that.

A lesson that should have been learned from the 1918 influenza pandemic is that honesty and accurate information are critical to fighting a pandemic. The threat of the flu was initially downplayed, allowing it to spread. Officials also failed to inform the public of the true danger. One example is the infamous Philadelphia parade which allowed the flu to spread like wildfire.  This resulted in the deaths of over 1,000 people and over 200,000 were infected. While this disaster should have provided a  lesson, the denial, downplaying and deceit continued. The inaction extended to the top, with President Woodrow Wilson (a Democrat) remaining silent about the flu. While there is no way to calculate  how many people would have not died if accurate information had been provided, it is reasonable to infer that many lives could have been saved.  Given this historical lesson, we should have been ready to face COVID-19 with honest, accurate information. But this was not the case. As an American, I will focus on my government, though examining other nations would also be useful.

When COVID-19 was first identified in January, former Trump officials  (Bossert and Gottlieb) started sounding a warning about the virus, drawing the obvious and tragic lessons from the 1918 pandemic. The initial response from Fox News was to cast the virus as a hoax intended to harm TrumpAccording to Snopes, Trump did not directly claim the virus was a hoax but instead accused the Democrats of creating a new hoax—the target of the alleged hoax being his inept and dangerous handling of the virus.   This evolved into downplaying the severity of the threat, with Trump making dangerously false claims about the spread of the virus and other critical matters. While the White House and Fox news eventually seemed to take the threat seriously, dangerous disinformation was still being spread. One example of moral irresponsibility was the claim that test kits were readily available so that the federal government would be able to provide them to the states. This was not true and the lie costs states time they could have used to create and distribute their own test kits. It was as if your home was on fire and the fire department said that they were just about there with their great new firetrucks. But they were lying, they were not on their way and only had some garden hoses.

Because of the downplaying and deceit, there were deaths that could have been prevented by the truth. If Trump and Fox News had told the truth from day one, people would still have gotten sick, but we would have been better prepared and could have mitigated the harm. Instead, Trump and Fox News (and others) aided and abetted the viral enemy with disinformation and some deaths are partially their fault. 

The lessons from COVID-19 are a repeat of those of the 1918 pandemic: those in power need to provide honest and accurate information in response to public health threats. Such honesty can cost a politician, especially if they are ill equipped to handle the crisis. But the cost of silence and disinformation is always higher when it is paid by the public. But a leader’s concern should be the good of the people, not their own private good.

It could be objected that there have been cases in which silence and disinformation were beneficia. That is, the leaders’ concealment or lying caused a better outcome than the truth. While this might have some merit in some cases, the 1918 and 2019 pandemics shows this is a poor response to pandemics.  To claim there might be unknown cases in which silence or deception were the best choices would be to use an appeal to ignorance fallacy. Claiming silence or deceit is good because there might be unknown cases in which they worked is terrible logic. While the above focuses on politicians and leaders, it is also worth considering the threat of disinformation from members of the public.

As would be expected, citizens also spread misinformation. In some cases, this is the result of ignorance. People might act from benevolent motives, but they are doing harm by spreading untrue claims. For example, a person might believe that drinking bleach can cure COVID-19 and they share because they care. While benevolent motives cannot be faulted, people have an obligation to critically assess claims before they share them A quick test of a claim is to check it against one’s own observations, against one’s background information and against credible claims. Using the bleach example, bleach bottles have prominent warnings about the dangers of bleach (observation) and most people should have in their background information that bleach is a poison.  If a claim matches up with all three, then it is reasonable to accept it as likely be true. If it does not, then it is often reasonable to doubt the claim or at least suspend judgment. People also need to critically assess the sources of claims. If no source is provided, then one must go with the above methods of testing a claim. If a source is provided, the source must be confirmed and assessed. The credibility of source depends primarily on the knowledge of the source (how likely they are to be right) and their lack of bias (a biased source is less credible, since they have a reason to lie). In general, knowledgeable and unbiased sources are good sources; biased or ignorant sources are not. When in doubt it is wisest to suspend judgment.

There are also those who knowingly spread misinformation. This might be to make money, such as Televangelist Jim Bakker’s efforts to sell a fake corona virus cure or for political advantages, such as Russia’s efforts to worsen the pandemic by spreading disinformation in the West. There are also trolls who spread disinformation because it is amusing or because they want to hurt people. There is  no reasonable way to argue that it is morally acceptable for people to lie in health crisis to make money or because a troll likes engaging in harmful trolling. But perhaps a case can be made justifying nations weaponizing misinformation. After all, if using war or otherwise hurting and killing people are morally acceptable, then hurting people through misinformation would also seem acceptable. That is, if we accept killing people with bullets and bombs, then it is hard to balk at killing with lies.

One possible response is to argue that a pandemic is a war with two sides: humans and the pathogen. As such, when a country uses disinformation in a pandemic, they are aiding the enemy of all humanity and are committing treason in a time of war. A less dramatic and more pragmatic response is to point out that misinformation, like a virus, tends to spread, so a country that weaponizes misinformation runs the risk of it infecting their own population. Social media is, of course, the vessel of choice for distributing most disinformation and misinformation.

While there can be sensible debate about what sort of political speech social media should restrict, if any, there seems to be no good arguments that social media companies should allow and enable the spread of misinformation and disinformation about a pandemic. Returning to the virus analogy, this would be like Uber having a policy of allowing drivers to knowingly drive  people infected with dangerous diseases around to interact with healthy people just because they can make some money. There is also the war analogy. If social media does not fight misinformation and disinformation in a pandemic, they are aiding and abetting the enemy in a time of war.

In closing, the lessons here are clear: leaders need to immediately provide accurate information about pandemics, citizens need to be critical in their acceptance of information, and intentional spreading of disinformation should be regarded as moral crime against humanity in a time of war.

As noted in previous essays, critics of capitalism are often accused of being Marxists and this attack is used to fallaciously justify rejecting their claims. The accusation of Marxism is also used as a signal to certain audiences; it is a way of saying the target is a “bad person” and should be disliked. In most cases the target is not a Marxist as they are rare in the United Sates, even in higher education.

While some might suspect philosophy departments are infested with Marxists, this does not match my own experience. Large philosophy departments, such as those at Ohio State or Florida State, sometimes have one Marxist. Most professional philosophers do not embrace Marxism, and most are critical of this philosophy.  This view is nicely summed up my dissertation advisor’s view of analytical Marxism: “Analytical Marxism…that would be doubly vacuous.” While Marx offered useful insights into political philosophy, I have not won over by Marxism. This is because of my philosophical disagreements with this philosophy.

While not focused on metaphysics, Marxism endorses metaphysical materialism and economic determinism. Materialism, in this context, is the view that reality is entirely composed of physical entities. This is usually contrasted with dualism, which is the view there are two basic types of entities: physical and immaterial. Descartes is a paradigm example of a dualist, since he argues for the distinction between mind and body. Marx’s materialism involves the obvious rejection of God. I’m a Cartesian dualist, so I part company with Marx here. As Marx was an atheist and Marxism is often presented as atheistic, this is another point of disagreement, as I am not an atheist.

While economic determinism can be analyzed in different ways, the oversimplified idea is that we are not free and are instead controlled by economic factors. This is not in the everyday way that people are controlled by their need to work to survive, but in a metaphysical sense. My argument for freedom is weak, but I rather like it. If we are not free, then I am caused to say that I believe we are free. I am wrong but could not do otherwise. If we are free, then I am right. While this is a silly argument, it does show that I reject economic determinism (and determinism in general).

As part of this determinism, Marx believed that he could predict the economic future: the bourgeoise would shrink as the proletariat grew, leading to a revolution. This would give rise to socialism (the state owning the means of production) which would end in communism (the state withers away and utopia is reached at last). While Marx was right that wealth is often concentrated and that revolutions occur, I do not agree with his vision of the future. I think it is likely that the state will endure. While I can imagine science-fiction scenarios in which the state no longer exists, these scenarios require more change than Marx envisioned. In favor of my view is the fact that socialist states do not seem to be progressing towards not being states. “Communist” states like China are doing the opposite as the “communist” state grows ever stronger.

Marx also believed in economic classes, but this is so obviously true and widely accepted that believing it would not make one a Marxist. If it did, we’d all be Marxists. Given how my views differ from Marxism, it is safe to conclude that I am not a Marxist.

It could be contended that I secretly hold to Marxism and am engaging in a Marxist form of taqiya: denying my true faith to remain hidden. This would require a systematic deception on my part, including living a relatively comfortable middle-class life under capitalism as part of my elaborate deception. While it is not impossible, supporting this claim would require strong evidence. Merely being critical of the excesses and harms of current capitalism would not suffice as evidence of being a Marxist or most people would be Marxists.

It could also be claimed that while I disagree with the core metaphysics of Marxism, I could still be some kind of Marxist. While people are usually sloppy in their ideologies, this would be like saying a person is some kind of Christian despite not believing in souls, angels and Jesus being divine. While not impossible, it would be odd.

In closing, the truth of my claims and the quality of my arguments are unaffected by whether I am an envious Marxist. There is also no evidence of my being either envious or a Marxist, so such a charge is either a set up for ad hominem attacks or simply signaling that I am “bad.”

As noted in previous essays, a tactic used by critics of capitalism is to accuse them of envy. As an argument, the Accusation of Envy is a fallacy. However, as was noted in the previous essay, a person’s envy could bias them and impact their credibility. Even when envy is relevant to credibility, proof of envy has no relevance to the truth of the person’s claims or the quality of their arguments. But from a rhetorical standpoint, such attacks can be effective: if someone is convinced another person is envious, they will often dismiss claims and arguments for psychological rather than logical reasons. Some people also enjoy attacking those they disagree with and casting them as being corrupted by vices. So, how would one tell if another person is envious?

My rough account of envy is that it involves an improper desire for what someone else has and the feeling includes an unwarranted resentment towards the possessor of the desired thing.  It often includes the desire to unjustly take it from the other person. An envious person would tend to be unable to get what they desire. If they could, they would presumably cease their envy (though they might become jealous). Determining if a person is envious would require assessing a person in terms of these factors in a fair and objective way.

A central part of the assessment is determining if the person has an improper desire for what someone else has. If a person shows no interest in the alleged object of desire, the accusation of envy would seem unwarranted. Even if a person is interested, it must be shown there is a defect in their desire and that unwarranted resentment is present.  As an illustration, consider the difference between training to be as good a basketball player as Jordan because he is an athlete you respect and bitterly begrudging his ability because you wish you had his talent.

 Discerning the presence of unwarranted resentment involves assessing the person’s words and deeds relative to the target of the alleged envy. Due caution must be taken to distinguish criticism and even anger from unwarranted resentment. Consider the difference between being justly angry at someone who harmed you and being unjustly resentful of someone who has done well in an area where you have failed. If a fair and objective assessment shows that the person is suffering from envy, then it would be reasonable to make that claim. But this would still be irrelevant to the truth of their claims and the quality of their arguments.

In some cases, people will make their envy clear: they will express bitter, yet unwarranted, resentment and have a record of failed attempts to acquire what they desire. They might even admit their envy. In other cases, it will be harder to determine if a person is envious. After all, strong criticism can resemble unwarranted resentment, and justified anger can arise from a string of unfair failures. For example, a person who tries to start a small business and is repeatedly driven out of business by corporations exploiting their unfair advantages could be seen as having righteous anger at an unfair system or cast as a failure who is envious. If a person does not show clear signs of envy or denies that they are envious, one evil rhetorical tactic that can be used is Secret Motive.

Secret Motive (or Real Motive) is a rhetorical technique in which a person is accused of having a secret, typically bad, motive for their claims, arguments or actions. That is, they are being accused of having a real motive that is wicked. This is often a set up for an ad hominem attack based on the alleged secret motive. For example, consider a critic of capitalism who denies they are envious of the rich and there is no good evidence to the contrary. An evil “solution” is to insist their real motivation is envy, despite the lack of evidence. The accuser often claims a special insight or understanding into the psychology of the accused and this is why they somehow know the person’s secret motive despite being able to provide evidence for their claim. While primarily a rhetorical device (and hence not an argument) it can also be cast as a fallacy:

 

Premise 1: Person A asserts that person B has a secret (or real) motive.

Conclusion: B has a secret motive.

 

The error occurs when A fails to provide adequate evidence for their conclusion. This is not to say that “evidence” will never be provided; but what is offered fails to support their claim. For example, the “evidence” of envy might be that the person has been critical of the rich, though they have never expressed resentment at wealth earned fairly and have never exhibited interest in becoming rich. But the accuser somehow “knows” the accused is secretly envious, apparently through some exceptional epistemic abilities. Aside from dishonesty, one possible motivation is that the accuser honestly cannot conceive of anyone being critical of capitalism for a good reason. Hence, they infer there must be a secret wicked motive. But it is more likely the accuser knows there are good criticism of capitalism and to not accuse the critic of wicked motives would be to acknowledge this.

The defense against this technique is objectively assessing whether adequate evidence exists for the accusation of the secret motive. If not, the claim should not be accepted. It must also be remembered that even if a person has a bad (secret or not) motive, this is irrelevant to the truth of their claims and the quality of their arguments.

As noted in my previous essay, critics of capitalism are often accused of being envious or Marxists. As shown in that essay, even if a critic is envious, it is fallacious to conclude their criticism is therefore wrong. But it could be argued that a person’s envy can bias them and diminish their credibility. I will look at this and examine envy. I will then engage in some self-reflection on whether I am envious.

Since envy involves resentment, an envious person could have a bias and see who they envy in an unwarranted or negative manner. This might occur for a variety of reasons, such as a desire to explain away their own failures or feel better by attributing negative qualities to who they envy. For example, a person who envies the rich might explain their own lack of wealth in terms of the machinations of the wealthy and “the system” while seeing the rich as suffering from greed, dishonesty and corruption. Thus, it is an envious person could be biased against those they envy.  If such a bias exists, then the envious person’s credibility would be reduced in proportion to their bias. This is because they would be more inclined to accept negative claims about those they envy. So, it would be rational to consider the influence of bias when assessing claims.

But the mere possibility of bias is not proof of bias, there would need to be evidence the person 1) is envious and 2) is biased by this envy. If this evidence exists, then we should consider the impact of this bias on the person’s claims. This approach can have merit in the context of the Argument from Authority.

An Argument from Authority occurs when it is argued that a claim should be accepted because the person making it is an authority (expert) on the subject. It has this form:

 

Premise 1: Person A is an authority(expert) on subject S.

Premise 2: A says P about S.

Conclusion: P is true.

 

This inductive argument is assessed in terms of the quality of the expert, and this includes considering whether the expert is significantly biased. If an expert is biased to a degree that would render them untrustworthy, then accepting a biased claim from them would be an error of logic. If I were so envious of the rich that I was significantly biased against them, then unsupported claims I make about them should not be accepted as true based on my (alleged) expertise.

But even if someone is envious and extremely biased, this would not disprove their claims since claims stand or fall on their own. To think otherwise would be to fall into the Accusation of Envy fallacy discussed in the previous essay. The logical response to bias is not to reject the claims, but to subject them to scrutiny. Even if I was extremely envious of the rich, it would not follow that my claims about capitalism are false, and they would need to be assessed on their own merit.  But am I envious of the rich? To answer this, I need to consider the nature of envy.

At its core, envy involves wanting what someone else has. This can range from a possession (such as money) to a quality (such as being a fast runner). But merely wanting what someone else has is not the defining feature of envy. You might want to have artistic skills to match Rembrandt, but this need not make you envious. Envy includes a resentment towards the possessor of the desired thing and often includes a desire to take it. But even this does not properly capture envy. Suppose that you start a business with a trusted friend, but they betray you and flee the country with your money. You want the money, you resent that they have it, and you desire that it be taken away from them. But it would be incorrect to say that you are envious of them. More must be added to complete the recipe for envy.

One plausible addition is that resentment must be unwarranted, and the desire is improper in some relevant way. In the case of the hypothetical betrayer, your resentment is warranted and the desire for your money is proper. Establishing a claim of envy would thus require showing that a person wants what another has, that they unjustly resent that the other person has it, and that there is something improper about their desire for it. Envy also often involves an inability by the envious to get what they desire. If they could, they would not be envious.  The envious person thus suffers from a series of moral failings relative to their desire. While this is hardly a necessary and sufficient definition of “envy” it should suffice for sorting out whether I am envious of the rich.

To be envious of the rich, I would need to want to be rich.  I would also need an unjust resentment of the rich, an improper desire to be rich, and perhaps a desire that the rich no longer be rich and I would need to lack the ability to become rich. Let us walk through each of these in turn.  While I want to have some money (food and running shoes are not free), I do not desire to be rich. As for evidence, my life choices have not been aimed at becoming rich. For example, I earned my doctorate in philosophy and then became a professor. I could have picked a much more lucrative degree and profession.  While I write books, these are in philosophy and gaming rather than more profitable areas. If I wanted to be one of the rich, I would have been going about it in an ineffective way. But it could be contended that while I want to be rich, I lack the ability and have continuously been stuck in an “inferior” life.

The easy and obvious reply is that since I had the ability to complete a doctorate, I also had the ability to complete a far more lucrative advanced degree. Given that I was a college athlete and still train regularly despite numerous injuries, I can stick to challenging tasks and persist through difficulties. While it would be immodest to go through my strengths and accomplishments, suffice it to say that I could have certainly succeeded in a career far more profitable than being a professor if I desired to be rich. I am not saying that I would be rich; simply that if I wanted to be rich, I could have put myself on a path far more likely to achieve that result than a career in philosophy. If being rich was my goal, I would have tried. If I had turned out to be a bitter failure, then a charge of envy might have some merit. But to say that I am envious of what I never aimed for is a bizarre claim. One could claim some secret knowledge of my motives, but that would be unsupported speculation.

I do not unjustly resent the rich who have earned their wealth, such as by working hard in a demanding job. I do  have a negative view towards those who have acquired wealth unjustly, who use their wealth to the detriment of others, or who squandered the opportunities their wealth afforded them. I do believe that the current system is unfair, but I do not feel indignation that I have been treated unfairly. Rather I feel moral anger at the harmful aspects of the economic system we have created and perpetuate.

I do think that the rich should have less wealth, that they should contribute more and do better with their wealth. But I also think that everyone should use more of their resources to do good, me included. Like most people, I do not always live up to my moral ideals. But I do not want the rich to be stripped of their wealth and left poor. Being poor in America is a terrible thing, so I do not want anyone to be poor. 

As such, while I do have a negative view of some rich people and I have serious criticisms of the current economic system, I do not envy the rich. And even if I did, this would be irrelevant to any criticism I make.