We've all heard them. If we're honest, we've all made most of them at some point in our lives. Some are often rhetorical shortcuts, offered in haste or by imitation. Some try to change the focus from a difficult issue to an easier issue, or to evoke a reaction that derails reasoned discussion. And some simply manifest ignorance, arrogance, or both.
Worse, we see these bad arguments almost every day on TV news shows that treat bad argument as good entertainment, good enough to keep us tuned in through the next commercial break. And if that's how we and our children learn to make arguments, we'll have a hard time making good ones.
More below the fold....
Six Bad Arguments (Plus Kossascopes)
This week Morning Feature looks at arguments, which I've defined as "dialogues with the intent of finding and agreeing on better solutions for problems." Arguments are not always adversarial debates with different speakers taking opposing positions; sometimes arguments are collaborative, with speakers helping each other to craft the best position they can. They can and often should be passionate, but they needn't be bitter or ugly. Yesterday we explored why we, as citizens in a democratic society, have a civic duty of political argument. Today we look at six common bad arguments. Tomorrow we'll examine some good ones.
Why do we often make bad arguments? There are a few reasons, but the key reason is that making good arguments is difficult. Our brains evolved with the capacity to communicate, just as our bodies evolved with the capacity to run and kick objects. But just as the latter does not mean we're born able to dribble a soccer ball, the former does not mean we're born able to make good arguments. Both are learned skills. Too few of us get formal training in how to present, listen to, criticize, and defend an argument. Instead we learn it by observation and imitation, from parents and friends or in the media. When we're anxious, as we often are while discussing an important issue, we fall back on the familiar.
And when it comes to argument, the familiar often looks like these:
Volume, VOLUME, VOLUME!
This describes two related bad arguments. The first goes to something we discussed yesterday: the need to be heard. When we explain our position and someone still disagrees, we seem to think "He/she must not have heard me. I must speak louder." So we do. And usually, the person with whom we're speaking responds in kind, to be heard. Left to escalate, we're soon yelling. The act of yelling triggers a set of neurocognitive responses that may echo back to shouted warnings of danger; the fight or flight response kicks in. We stop reasoning and simply react. It becomes a game of Chicken, where the first person to quit loses, no matter the merits of either's position.
The second is a different meaning of volume: quantity of data. If one point hasn't convinced the other person, maybe fifty will, or at least overwhelm his/her will to continue. We become verbal machineguns spewing ideas on full automatic, hardly pausing for breath lest the silence give room for a riposte. If the other person deflects two or three of those ideas by noting the points are wrong or irrelevant, we can say the others went unrebutted and claim victory. After all, the other person did give up, right?
I may not be right, but I'm dangerous.
This is one we've all experienced and probably from both sides. If we can't convince the other person by reason, we resort to something else. We pound a table, shake a fist, throw something, or stab a finger at the other person. Or we launch an attack aimed at a personal weakness. The intent may not be conscious, but the underlying message is: "Submit or I will hurt you." If it happens once, maybe it's just a bad mood on a bad day. Regardless, it's not about "finding and agreeing on better solutions for problems." It's about dominance.
I am the relevant evidence.
This one is also sometimes a dominance game, but not always. Sometimes it's shorthand for a reasoned argument, where the speaker is a legitimate authority by virtue of education or personal experience. "As a doctor, I'm telling you [medical opinion]," and "I know what I felt/feel" are both examples. In those cases, it's a bad argument only if we refuse to make the more complete argument or at least concede its weaknesses if necessary. We shouldn't have to take the doctor's word for it; he/she should be willing and able to explain the medical opinion in terms that make sense. We may know how we felt/feel, but concede that our feelings are only evidence of our own experience and may not apply to anyone else. When the speaker is not a legitimate authority, declarations like "that's my opinion" often carry the tacit postscript "and I don't care what you or anyone else says about it."
Only an idiot would disagree.
This is sometimes a variation on the previous, where the full statement would be "Only an idiot would disagree with me." But sometimes it's not. The speaker has presented a set of facts and inferences that he/she believes is beyond reasoned dispute. But as we'll see tomorrow, facts and fact-based inferences are only convincing if the speaker and audience use the same value-statements to weigh the argument, and often that's not the case. When we disagree about the value-statements we use to weigh facts and inferences, someone else can reach a very different conclusion and be entirely reasonable in doing so.
Let's discuss something else instead.
This is a catch-all for several kinds of topic-shifting arguments, from moving on to the next point before resolving the current one, to strawman arguments where the speaker attributes a similar but weaker argument to the another and then rebuts that, to entirely unrelated issues: "He may have had an affair but your people registered Mickey Mouse to vote." These are often attempts to derail discussion to an easier topic, and while it may seem to concede the point at issue, the speaker usually has not conceded anything. Indeed sometimes this isn't an attempt to derail the argument, but simply to suspend it because the speaker needs to do something else, or is becoming too upset, or wants time to research and learn more about this particular topic. Which brings us to:
We must resolve this right now.
This is often the worst argument we make. Sometimes the issue demands a decision at that moment, but that's rarely true in political discussions with friends, neighbors, colleagues, or family. We're trying to convince each other to support a candidate or policy, where the proposed action may not happen for days or weeks or months. Trying to resolve it right now often does more harm than good, because forcing a decision may simply cement opposition. Often the best arguments plant seeds of thought that blossom much later, when someone has had time to reflect privately, learn more about the topic, and/or discuss it with others. The speaker may not get the thrill of victory, but those decisions reached on reflection are often stronger and more enduring.
Which of these bad arguments have you seen most often? Which have you made most often? And which do you find most irritating to see, or to make?
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And when it comes to bad arguments, nothing beats the stars, or at least the Janitor Professor of Astrology's reading of them:
Libra - Your stars are disagreeable. Ignore them and they'll go away.
Scorpio - Others defer to your legitimate authority, until you leave the room.
Sagittarius - Your stars are screaming, but "In space no one can hear you scream."
Capricorn - You can make a brilliant argument and still be wrong. Often.
Aquarius - There are many facts to support you, but your friends don't care about them.
Pisces - Some people value your input less than your output. Go figure.
Aries - That annoying person you always argue with feels the same about you.
Taurus - Your stars would like to discuss your weekend at another time. Is next week good?
Gemini - The heavens are aligned perfectly for you this weekend. But here on earth....
Cancer - In your next argument, remember to bring up that point you've forgotten.
Leo - If you meet a Cancer this weekend, remind him/her of that point. They like that. Honest.
Virgo - Your carefully-crafted argument slipped into the inter-aether. Did you save a copy?
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Happy Friday!