When I was growing up in southern Oregon, a popular bumper-sticker noted that Hitler supported gun control. This is, of course, true. Hitler did not allow his citizens to have arms outside of governmental control. This is also, of course, utterly irrelevant to the question of gun control here in the United States. Sadly, analogies at pretty much that level seem to be common in the political rhetoric (and quite possibly in the political thinking of our country. Which leads to a question: how can we counter this rhetorical device?
OK, so we have all used the analogy that just didn't fit. I have done so for a number of reasons. I've done it because I didn't understand the situation, or because we didn't understand the historical event. More often, intellectual laziness has been to blame (why spend time thinking of a real argument when an apparently good analogy is readily available?). I certainly have used intentionally bad or hyperbolic analogies for humorous effect. And on occasion, I must admit, I have done it because I thought I could pull a fast one over on people.
Unfortunately, as has been much noted, the Right has made an art form out of the use of bad analogies. Today I was listening to On Point on WBUR. They were discussing the recent firing of Mary McCarthy from the CIA. As usual, they had a conservative on (Robert Turner, Associate Director, Center for National Security Law and professor of law at the University of Virginia, to use his description from their sight), and, as usual, he decided to pull out historical analogies from everyone's favorite epoch, WWII. Secrecy, he noted, is necessary. When we were getting ready to invade Normandy, no one was upset that we were keeping our plans secret. Too his credit, Tom Ashbrook (the host) noted that this situation was hardly the same as the Normandy invasion, and the conversation moved on without the point being conceded. Which left me to wonder, was the analogy dispelled, or was the damage done?
And so I come back to the question of how best to refute bad analogies. Severall options come to mind, and I will discuss them briefly, but first a brief word about analogies and why they matter. There is a pretty good argument that analogies play an important role in how humans think about the world. People have a limited capacity to think about things, and if we can take shortcuts, that can make things easier. Yuen Khong has argued that bad analogies (particularly to the appeasement of Hitler at Munich) were largely responsible for US involvement in Vietnam. Sometimes we make these analogies ourselves, for example by refering to our own previous experiences. They also can be suggested to us as a way to understand a situation. Analogies that resonate strongly with clear, culturally significant, and often emotional themes can be particullally powerful. This is why so many analogies appeal to World War II. It is a focal point that everyone knows at least a little about, and about which there is a very large degree of cultural agreement. Discussing, say, the Mexican-American war (as Arthur Schlesinger Jr did in a column in the Washington Post today) does not carry so much weight, even if the fit is better. To be fair, Schlesinger makes up for this at least in part by invoking Lincoln, who is possibly our country's strongest political symbol. I will leave it to someone with more knowledge than I to explain how analogies actually work (schema and all that). Rather, I will just discuss some of the approaches we might take:
1. Ignore them. While Tom Ashbrook actually did question the Normandy analogy (which was pretty egregious even by current Republican standards), this seems the exception for a host, not the rule. What is more, very often even Democrats or liberals confronted with these analogies often ignore them, preferring to stick to the talking points. Maybe this is the best answer, and we should refuse to acknowledge the analogy even to refute it (accepting their frame and all that). Still, I hate to hear them left hanging.
2. Call bullshit, then move on. This is what Tom Ashbrook did. He basically said "I don't think that analogy works" without really explaining why, and then moved on. This has the advantage of being quick (like the analogy) and letting a person get back to their main arguments. On the other hand, it doesn't force the opponent to admit that the analogy was wrong, or even defend it. Does this work, or does it leave the analogy in people's minds? I don't really know.
3. Refute the analogy. This tends to be my response, at least mentally. I think of all the reasons why the analogy doesn't work (of course, when you really do this you see that analogies seldom are all that good). The good thing is that it can really diffuse the analogy, and by extension, the argument it was supporting. If done well, it makes the analogy just seem absurd. On the other hand, it takes time away from making other points, and thus might not be good for people in a forum (like TV) where they have limited time to respond. In addition, if the conservative is a good debator and/or knows more about history than you do, they might make you look bad. Plus, even if you do a good job, you might just sound "wonky" or "boring." (No snide comparisons to this diary -- if you read this far you have no excuse).
4. Trump the analogy with an analogy of your own. If they say secrecy = Normandy, say that secrecy = Watergate. The key thing here is that you not only need an analogy that fits better, but one that has equal or greater resonance. If they have already played the WWII card (or the 9/11 card), espescially on security issues, finding a trump may be pretty hard.
5. Ridicule the analogy, and their argument, by making hyperbolic analogies of your own. OK, I don't really think this is the best thing to do, particularly for people in a public debate forum. But whenever I hear a bad analogy, I really just want to mock it. Unfortunately, this is hard to do quickly, and even when I do think of something it usually tends to be too obscure or dark to resonate. They say if we saw the Japanese fleet about to attack Pearl Harbor, shouldn't we have attacked it first, so I say yeah, and they might cut off our supply of raw materials so we should invade Manchuria. Unfortunately, at this point even my allies are confused, and usually the conversation just dies. So I don't recommend point five, unless you are much more clever than I am.
OK, so you probably thought that you were going to get an answer to the question I asked at the start. The problem is, I don't really have the answer. I want to hear your takes. Or your own favorite analogies. Or your complaints that I led you on this chase without answering my own question. Or resounding silence. I'll just assume it was you were showing support for the "ignore" option by ignoring mine. You are clever.