One can really go far with Sesame Street:
One of these things is not like the others. Can you guess which one kids?
Category Archives: Fallacies and Other Problems
This category covers all broken arguments. Some are straightforwardly fallacious, others suffer from a lack of evidence or some other unidentifiable problem.
Shared values
I wonder what the value question is here:
Then there are the cultural issues. Charles Gibson and George Stephanopoulos of ABC News are taking a lot of heat for spending so much time asking about Jeremiah Wright and the “bitter” comments. But the fact is that voters want a president who basically shares their values and life experiences. Fairly or not, they look at symbols like Michael Dukakis in a tank, John Kerry’s windsurfing or John Edwards’s haircut as clues about shared values.
When Obama began this ride, he seemed like a transcendent figure who could understand a wide variety of life experiences. But over the past months, things have happened that make him seem more like my old neighbors in Hyde Park in Chicago.
Some of us love Hyde Park for its diversity and quirkiness, as there are those who love Cambridge and Berkeley. But it is among the more academic and liberal places around. When Obama goes to a church infused with James Cone-style liberation theology, when he makes ill-informed comments about working-class voters, when he bowls a 37 for crying out loud, voters are going to wonder if he’s one of them. Obama has to address those doubts, and he has done so poorly up to now.
What else can one say? One of these things is not like the other.
Ad hominems
Unfortunately, many Introduction to Philosophy students leave with several misconceptions about the nature of fallacious reasoning. They draw the conclusion that fallacies are a kind of negative guide to reasoning. For instance, never attack the person, as such attacks break the ad hominem rule. Another misconception is that calling something a fallacy is sufficient for dismissing someone's position. That's an ad hominem, therefore, etc. Unfortunately, some–even some professor types–seem to think this characterizes the entire field of inquiry into fallacious reasoning: when fallacies are discussed, they see a kind of juvenile name calling in place of honest and fair analysis.
Sometimes, however, that's the case. This, for instance, would seem like a reasonable accusation of an ad hominem:
All of which brings us to the distinctly Greenwald parts of the book–Greenwald takes an unseemly relish in engaging in irrelevant personal attacks. Personally attacking Ronald Reagan at least makes sense on some level. But personally attacking private citizens with different ideologies has a certain senselessness attached to it.
But no. The relevance of "personal attacks" depends on the conclusion drawn–not on the object of the attack. Personally attacking Ronald Reagan makes sense only when the "attack" draws a conclusion relevant to the attack. Reagan's personality is no more relevant in the grand scheme of things than that of any private citizen. While we expect a politician to be subject to such attacks, those attacks aren't more justified on logical grounds.
This is especially the case when the question concerns hypocrisy. Al Gore is not a hypocrite for driving a car, unless he says "don't drive a car." He says, "Climate science says x, y, and z." Whether he drives a car is separate question. His driving a car has nothing to do with that particular argument. Now, when someone calls someone else a moral degenerate who should not be trusted, you're going to reasonably wonder about the purity of the accuser–to do so doesn't make you any less of a degenerate, all things considered, but it the credibility of the accuser is certainly relevant–insofar as his accusation rests on his credibility. Continuing from above,
Even if every reader of Great American Hypocrites walked away from the several pages that attack Norman Podhoretz (to take just one of the many conservative thinkers that Greenwald assails) convinced that Podhoretz is just about the most awful person to ever walk the face of the Earth, Podhoretz's ideas would remain unscathed. Podhoretz has never argued that a reader should agree with his ideas because he is such a wonderful guy. Instead, the ideas have a life of their own.
Greenwald's own success makes his personal attacks particularly ironic. There was nothing in Glenn Greenwald's background that suggested he should have been one of the kings of the progressive blogosphere. And Russ Feingold didn't read passages from Greenwald's first book from the Senate floor because Greenwald is such a fine human being. Greenwald gained prominence because of the power of his ideas and his writing. Whatever prominence he retains will also result exclusively from the quality of his work. It's a mystery why he doesn't realize that it operates the same way at all spots on the ideological spectrum.
Great American Hypocrites will likely be a big hit. Whatever the equivalent of red meat is for the angry left, this book is it. As a confessed Greenwald admirer, I found it largely disappointing. Like the rest of us, Greenwald has both strengths and weaknesses as a writer. Too much of Great American Hypocrites indulges his fondness for pointless ad hominem attacks, the weakest aspect of his work.
Many of Greenwald's fans will probably take delight in his description of Rush Limbaugh as a "draft-avoiding, illegal-pill-addicted and multiple-divorced (man) burdened with one of the most decadent and degraded lives of any public figure anywhere." Whether they take note of the irony that a mere two pages later Greenwald decries our "attack-based personality-obsessed politics" is an open question.
If Greenwald himself sees the irony, he doesn't betray any such awareness in "Great American Hypocrites."
It seems facile to accuse someone of hypocrisy for accusing someone else of hypocrisy. That succinct and true description of Rush Limbaugh, in other words, is not a fallacious ad hominem unless Greenwald uses that as evidence to dismiss views unrelated to Limbaugh's character–or the moral character of those whose positions he advocates in the course of making those attacks. But that, I take it, is not Greenwald's point in writing a book about hypocrites.
It always depends, in the end, on the conclusion you're drawing. If you want to malign John Kerry's manhood (as Limbaugh did) by way of supporting Bush as the alternative, then Bush's comparative manhood is a relevant question. That, I take it, is Greenwald's point. But I'll leave that to him.
With or Without Yoo
Two interesting quotations from Ruth Marcus’s Washington Post column–One pro John Yoo, tortured torture memo writer, one contra. The first one, from Columbia University law Professor Scott Horton, addresses someone (Elder) who does not find Yoo’s legal work grounds for discipline or revocation of his tenure at Berkeley. He says that Elder
"is appropriately concerned about freedom of expression for his
faculty. But he should be much more concerned about the message that
all of this sends to his students. Lawyers who act on the public stage
can have an enormous impact on their society and the world around them.
. . . Does Dean Edley really imagine that their work is subject to no
principle of accountability because they are mere drones dispensing
legal analysis?"
There’s a wide gulf between "not punishable in this instance by the University" and "subject to no principle of accountability." Horton sets up a false dichotomy–accountable or not.
On the pro-Yoo side:
The most useful analogy I’ve read on this subject comes from Princeton
professor Deborah Pearlstein, who asked what Berkeley would do if a
molecular biology professor "had written a medical opinion while in
government employ disclaiming the truth of evolution," and continued to
dispute the theory of evolution once he resumed teaching.Pearlstein,
a human rights lawyer, found Yoo’s memo "blatantly, embarrassingly
wrong under the law," but she conceded that legal conclusions lack the
hard certainty of scientific truth. Yoo should no more be removed from
a teaching job than a Supreme Court justice who writes a despicable
opinion — upholding slavery, allowing separate but equal facilities,
permitting the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II —
should be impeached.
I’m confused by the analogy in the first paragraph. If that’s the case, then indeed Yoo ought to be fired for not having competence in his subject matter. Academic freedom ought not be a cover for incompetence. But I doubt he would have gotten that far anyway.
The second paragraph rings odd. And it hardly makes the point that Yoo ought to be protected from firing. Any Supreme Court judge who argues for slavery ought to be impeached–now (and probably back then as well). Even though legal opinions lack the "hard certainty" of scientific truth (whatever that means), it doesn’t mean that some legal opinions are simply beyond the pale.
By most accounts–even friendly ones–Yoo’s opinions were beyond the pale. The fact is, however, that was a different job. This seems to me to be the key difference that’s being overlooked here. Berkeley was dumb enough to hire him and give him tenure. They ought to be ashamed. But it’s too late now.
Of course, if he broke the law and is found to have committed war crimes, then indeed, he ought to be fired. But that’s a matter for, er, the law.
Elitism
Judging by the number of op-eds by (ironically) elite (i.e., very rich, very educated, very isolated from the unwashed masses) writers, there’s a consensus forming around the notion of elitism: it’s bad. Some argue that elitism is insulting; some argue that it could seem insulting; some use it to explain the Gore having "lost" the 2000 election. By contrast, folksyism–the "wanna have a beer with" seems to be the true test of a presidential candidate. The only people, oddly, who think this kind of nonsense are the members of the "elite" media.
Today George Will, who makes untold thousands to give lectures to prominent law firms (Dear law firms: I’ll do it for one eighth of the price and I promise most of what I say will be true, coherent, and well established by argument) finds this elitism–I mean, liberal elitism, a bad thing.
Barack Obama may be exactly what his supporters suppose him to be. Not, however, for reasons most Americans will celebrate.
Obama may be the fulfillment of modern liberalism. Explaining why many
working-class voters are "bitter," he said they "cling" to guns,
religion and "antipathy to people who aren’t like them" because of
"frustrations." His implication was that their primitivism,
superstition and bigotry are balm for resentments they feel because of
America’s grinding injustice.By so speaking, Obama does fulfill liberalism’s transformation since Franklin Roosevelt.
What had been under FDR a celebration of America and the values of its
working people has become a doctrine of condescension toward those
people and the supposedly coarse and vulgar country that pleases them.
"His implication" is a bit of a stretch, but let’s grant that some may reasonably be taken aback by those words. That kind of stuff happens–and after nearly eight years of President Bush (and VP Cheney) Americans ought to be used to being offended. But hey, we’re not going to draw any large, unjustified inferences from Bush’s malapropisms or Cheney’s meanness. But George Will won’t can’t help himself:
The iconic public intellectual of liberal condescension was Columbia University historian Richard Hofstadter, who died in 1970 but whose spirit still permeated that school when Obama matriculated there
in 1981. Hofstadter pioneered the rhetorical tactic that Obama has
revived with his diagnosis of working-class Democrats as victims — the
indispensable category in liberal theory. The tactic is to dismiss
rather than refute those with whom you disagree.
You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s exactly what Will is up to hear.
Obama’s dismissal is: Americans, especially working-class
conservatives, are unable, because of their false consciousness, to
deconstruct their social context and embrace the liberal program. Today
that program is to elect Obama, thereby making his wife at long last
proud of America.Hofstadter dismissed conservatives as victims of character flaws and
psychological disorders — a "paranoid style" of politics rooted in
"status anxiety," etc. Conservatism rose on a tide of votes cast by
people irritated by the liberalism of condescension.Obama voiced such liberalism with his "bitterness" remarks to an audience of affluent San Franciscans. Perfect.
Here is what Will is trying to say: Liberals (spit spit) dismiss people as crazy rather than as merely being in the wrong. Here’s what Will ends up saying: I dismiss liberals because they’re effete snobs (San Francicso, San Francisco) who look down on other people.
Crystal balls
Like his colleague David Brooks at the New York Times, William Kristol has been pretty much wrong about everything in the past several years (and probably before). But wrongness, when it happens, just doesn’t happen. There’s always a reason for it. So I believe now, at least.
I’m not going to explain the wrongness of William Kristol–he’s wedded to an incoherent ideology, for instance. I don’t know if that’s true, and besides I don’t have access to Kristol’s mental states. So if you read this and you’re a conservative, notice that I haven’t said "conservatives are wrong in their core beliefs." Wrongness always happens in the particulars.
I’m interested in the wrongness of his reasons. To that end, let’s take a look at one or two. In today’s column, he opposes the following claims:
But it’s one thing for a German thinker to assert that “religion is
the sigh of the oppressed creature.” It’s another thing for an American
presidential candidate to claim that we “cling to … religion” out of
economic frustration.And it’s a particularly odd claim for
Barack Obama to make. After all, in his speech at the 2004 Democratic
convention, he emphasized with pride that blue-state Americans, too,
“worship an awesome God.”
That’s obviously not a contradiction or some kind of less rigorous "tension" or "inconsistency." As explanations go, Obama’s seems fairly innocuous. He’s clearly talking about a certain motivation for religion as distinct from say, God, the object of those religions. Attacking this weak version of Obama’s remarks is what you might call a "straw man."
A little charity on Kristol’s part would help him see this. But I ask perhaps too much.
Here’s another:
Then there’s what Obama calls “anti-immigrant sentiment.” Has Obama
done anything to address it? It was John McCain, not Obama, who took
political risks to try to resolve the issue of illegal immigration by
putting his weight behind an attempt at immigration reform.Furthermore, some concerns about unchecked and unmonitored illegal
immigration are surely legitimate. Obama voted in 2006 (to take just
one example) for the Secure Fence Act, which was intended to control
the Mexican border through various means, including hundreds of miles
of border fence. Was Obama then just accommodating bigotry?
Anyone ought to be able to see the difference between criticizing "anti-immigrant sentiment" (which applies to both legal and immigrants) fomented by Kristol’s partners on the right and supporting "unchecked and unmonitored illegal immigration." Being against the latter, of course, doesn’t make you for the former. This amounts to, I think, a kind of red herring. Concern about "Illegal immigration" bears only a slight resemblance to "anti-immigrant sentiment" of the "bigotry" variety.
State religion
It's Sunday, but instead of complaining about George Will's complaining–we'll do that tomorrow maybe–let's just read Michael Medved and marvel:
Actually, there’s little chance that atheists will succeed in placing one of their own in the White House at any time in the foreseeable future, and it continues to make powerful sense for voters to shun potential presidents who deny the existence of God. An atheist may be a good person, a good politician, a good family man (or woman), and even a good patriot, but a publicly proclaimed non-believer as president would, for three reasons, be bad for the country.
Hollowness and Hypocrisy at State Occasions. As Constitutional scholars all point out, the Presidency uniquely combines the two functions of head of government (like the British Prime Minister) and head of state (like the Queen of England). POTUS not only appoints cabinet members and shapes foreign policy and delivers addresses to Congress, but also presides over solemn and ceremonial occasions. Just as the Queen plays a formal role as head of the Church of England, the President functions as head of the “Church of America” – that informal, tolerant but profoundly important civic religion that dominates all our national holidays and historic milestones. For instance, try to imagine an atheist president issuing the annual Thanksgiving proclamation. To whom would he extend thanks in the name of his grateful nation –-the Indians in Massachusetts?
Well, he probably ought to thank the Indians in Massachusetts, but that's another matter. The more basic point is this: last time I checked, there is no "Church of America," so that analogy does even rise to the level of weakness. Solemn occasions are somewhat like church–you can't get up and go to the bathroom, you sit or stand watching a podium where someone talks–but that's about it. Besides, if those things make something "church," if only analogously, then as one who talks somewhat ceremoniously to a group of people who may or may not have to go to the bathroom, I'm a priest.
Is it wrong?
This story reminds me of a conversation I had with my great uncle at Bob Evans in 1990. First the story:
MATTHEWS: He’s [Sen. Barack Obama] not that good at that — handshaking in a diner.
SHUSTER: No —
MATTHEWS: Barack doesn’t seem to know how to do that right.
SHUSTER: — he doesn’t do that well. But then you see him in front
of 15,000 people in some of these college towns, and that’s why, Chris,
we’ve seen Chelsea Clinton and Bill Clinton in Bloomington and South
Bend and Terre Haute. I mean —MATTHEWS: What’s so hard about doing a diner? I don’t get it. Why
doesn’t he go in there and say, "Did you see the papers today? What do
you think about that team? How did we do last night?" Just some regular
connection?SHUSTER: Well, here’s the other thing that we saw on the tape,
Chris, is that, when Obama went in, he was offered coffee, and he said,
"I’ll have orange juice."MATTHEWS: No.
SHUSTER: He did.
And it’s just one of those sort of weird things. You know, when the
owner of the diner says, "Here, have some coffee," you say, "Yes, thank
you," and, "Oh, can I also please have some orange juice, in addition
to this?" You don’t just say, "No, I’ll take orange juice," and then
turn away and start shaking hands. That’s what happens [unintelligible]
—MATTHEWS: You don’t ask for a substitute on the menu.
SHUSTER: Exactly.
Bob Evans is or was (do they still exist?) a kind of diner/family dining place with a country sausage inspiration. My great uncle, then his late 80’s, took me out to breakfast there one morning around Christmas. He ordered one egg sunny-side up and one pancake. There must have been sausage with that order, but I don’t remember. He then proceeded to put the egg on top of the pancake and cover the whole thing with syrup.
I had never seen such a thing. When I asked him what he was doing, he fixed his eyes on me and said: "is it wrong?
Or against us
The following strikes me as a fairly clear instance of a false dichotomy:
For those who see no moral principle underlying American foreign
policy, the Holocaust Declaration is no business of ours. But for those
who believe that America stands for something in the world — that the
nation that has liberated more peoples than any other has even the most
minimal moral vocation — there can be no more pressing cause than
preventing the nuclear annihilation of an allied democracy, the last
refuge and hope of an ancient people openly threatened with the final
Final Solution.
So, to recap: you either (1) have no moral principles; or (2) agree with Charles’ Krauthammer’s "Holocaust Declaration": here’s the Holocaust Declaration:
"It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear attack
upon Israel by Iran, or originating in Iran, as an attack by Iran on
the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response upon Iran."
There are many reasons to regard such a policy is foolish and immoral. That simple fact alone means Krauthammer cannot claim that even the most "minimal moral vocation" means we must adopt it. Even granting (which we shouldn’t, by the way) that some form of deterrence (of Iran’s as of yet non-existent nuclear capability) is the only available option, there many different ways to achieve that goal than by apocalyptic threats. Adopting those approaches does not mean that one abandons the (dubious to some) claim that America stands for something in the world.
You’re living in the past
I’m impressed by Michael Gerson’s attempt to turn someone’s having been right about something into a liability. He concedes the point that Obama has been right about Iraq in the past–it seems, according to Gerson (himself one of the chief rhetorical motivators for invading Iraq), that invading Iraq was a colossally bad idea. (Good for him, good Christian that he is. But there ought to be some penance involved in that admission–especially on account of the key role he played in making it a reality. Maybe he ought not to seek the credulity of the reading public. But I digress.)
Back to the argument. Since Obama cites having been right about Iraq as a credential when he now argues about Iraq, he’s "living in the past."
The situation in Iraq, as Gen. Petraeus insists, is "fragile and
reversible." But the debate has moved far beyond a candidate’s initial
support for the war. This has led to an odd inversion of the
generational battle. Young Obama’s strongest arguments are focused "on
the failures of the past." The older man, by insisting on victory, is
more responsible and realistic about the future.
This has the air of a sophism about it. Judgments about the future rely on the past in two ways. (a) One who has a record of being right in the past will justifiably point that out as a credential; (b) what is going to happen can only be determined on the grounds of what has happened. So naturally in order to decide resolve what to do in Iraq, one will have to focus on the failure of the past–failures, Obama would point out, John McCain’s keen political judgment is responsible for.
So the question, "who is more responsible and realistic about the future" depends, of course, on the past. For, "who has been more responsible and realistic [on this specific problem, by the way] in the past?" seems to be a rather reasonable way to resolve who will be more responsible in the future.
But what do I know. I was right about Invading Iraq.