Find Your Favorite Fallacy

I suck at logic. I realize that logic is the cornerstone of philosophy, but I'm really bad at it. Really bad. Funny thing is I don't feel all that bad about it. A few days ago, I looked at a sample problem from one of my old logic texts, and I didn't even know how to begin to solve the derivation. It felt wonderful. This fact, however, doesn't stop me from being interested in fallacies and when one's logic and reasoning goes dreadfully, horribly wrong. A fallacy, plainly put, is an error in one's reasoning. There are many reasons why one's reasoning goes awry, including errors in deduction, ambiguity, irrelevant data, vagueness, etc... The funny thing about fallacious arguments is that they always sound so good, so reasonable -- but they're always wrong. The thing about fallacies that irks so many philosophers is that the sweet sounds of a horribly reasoned argument always sound so good that people are all-too-often swayed by bad arguments rather than by a logically sound argument. The reason is, I think, has to do with the fact that straight logic is boring. It's hard, and it sucks, and not everyone can do it. Fallacies are fun. More importantly, everyone can do it. Unfortunately for fans of logic, fallacious arguments are far too common in the public sphere. A particular breeding ground for fallacious thinking is conspiracy theories. Here are a few of my favorites: I used to take a lot of this 9/11 stuff seriously (I still think a proper investigation is needed) until I heard professional famous people Heidi and Spencer Pratt (collectively known as "Speidi") on a radio show chanting for the downfall of the New World Order. Now, I'm not saying that they can't express their opinions, they are American citizens and well within their rights to express whatever nutty (or perfectly sane) ideas that they want. But really, listening to these two people who, so far as I'm aware of, have no discernable reason to be famous, ended my taking 9/11 truthers seriously right at that moment. Hearing those two was like seeing your grandmother naked. Once you've seen it all the magic of nana is gone. What I was thinking, while listening to "Speidi" was that I was hearing a fallacy at work. The fallacy was this: ARGUMENTUM AD VERECUNDIAM. It wasn't that we're supposed to believe that the GOVERNMENT pulled off a false flag operation against its own people because a legitimate source laid out compelling arguments for believing that 9/11 was an inside job. Nope. The argument laid out on this show was nothing more than a celebrity endorsement. "Speidi" might have a level of expertise when dealing with the ins and outs of show business, but their authority to speak on matters concerning politics and the inner working of the Tri-Lateral Commission might be lacking. They were speaking outside of their area of authority, yet made an appeal for something they lacked the authority to speak (about). That's what argumentum ad verecundium is. The funny thing about conspiracies is that they're usually not limited to just one form of bad argument. Most are a cornucopia of bad reasoning and awful arguments. Sure, it's great that Fear Factor host Joe Rogan knows that the GOVERNMENT attacked itself for the purposes of interning all Americans into FEMA camps, and that I should trust what he says, because he knows that everything we've been told about the Illuminati is true, but there's a more important reason why I should believe what he says-- if I don't I will die. This fallacy is ARGUMENTUM AD BACULUM. This particular kind of bad argument says, if you don't believe my argument, bad things will happen to you. If I continue to be one of the sheeple and refuse to believe that the Globalists have a plan to exterminate 80% of the world's population, I will end up pumped full of contaminated water, high fructose corn syrup, aspertame, flouride, and contaminated vaccines that will render me doscile and compliant (it also doesn't hurt to buy a copy of Loose Change). Speaking of high fructose corn syrup and vaccines being used to create passivity, apathy, and global pandemics, I come to my favorite fallacy and a conspiracy favorite: POST HOC, ERGO PROPTER HOC. Translated, post hoc, ergo propter hoc means "after this, therefore because of this". The reasoning goes, because A preceeds B, A caused B. Here's an example: I consumed three Hostess Snowalls right before slaughtering my family. Therefore, the Snowballs caused me to kill my family. Well, as you can see, that's wrong. The fact that I ate a snack just before committing murder doesn't necessarily mean that the two events are connected, despite the close proximity of the two events. Here's another common one, my child is a genius. I played Mozart while I was pregnant. Therefore, Mozart made my baby a genius. The fact is, is that even though it sounds nice to say that playing classical music to fetuses sounds nice (should be an indicator here), there is no causal connection between a child's IQ and what kind of music is played while its mother is pregnant. At best, the realationship is correlational. I know that the last paragraph might have upset a few people, especially those who believe that there is a causal relation between certain substances (like vaccines) and decreased health. I'm not saying that people who believe that substances like MSG are bad for your health are wrong. There might be a connection between environmental toxins and lower IQs and other ailments. What I'm saying is that the arguments that are used by proponents of conspiracy theories are often problematic because so many are so poorly argued. Of course, someone who thinks as I do might end up on the recieving end of another fallacy: ARGUMENTUM AD HOMINEM. The tactic of this fallacious argument is tried and true, and unfortunately it has a stunning level of success. Argumentum ad hominem is simply making the other guy look bad. This one you hear on both sides of the conspiracy issue; proponents and naysayers alike. It's making your argument look good by making the other guy's argument look bad. Conspiracy theorists call non-believers "sheeple" and shills for the New World Order. Conspiracy theorists are "nuts" and paranoids who listen to Art Bell while wearing their tin-foil hats. What I mean by writing this isn't to pick on conspiracy theorists. There are many legitimate reasons to believe that things are not always as they seem to be, and there should be at least a few people who are looking out to see if our government remains the free and open institution that it was designed to be. It's good to ask questions and look for answers -- that's the essence of philosophy. In his search for truth, Socrates questioned his interlocutors, forcing them to ask questions through dialogue. They rarely arrived at answers -- just more questions. Some people don't really like the idea of not having answers, so they look for answers, even when the connections they draw between events aren't reasonable or when there is no good reason to believe a particular line of reasoning. Then again, if everybody specialized in logically correct arguments, late night radio would be so uninteresting.

Baa Baa Baa

This past month has been pretty exciting, eh? Lots of talk about conspiracies.... I was listening to the Alex Jones ahow a couple of days ago, and he was talking about the "V for Victory" campaign. He said that the remedy for 1984 is 1776, which may or may not be true. But what I started thinking about is the whole business of conspiracy theories in general. In conspiracy circles, at least among some of the most eager of adherents, some, during their most vitriolic moments, often refer to the American people as "sheeple". Sheep+people=sheeple. What they mean is that they think that most Americans follow whoever leads them like sheep. Most people are exactly as Nietzsche said, motivated by the "herd mentality". The sentiment is that, after decades of being feed mind-numbing diets of MSG, aspertame, high fructose corn syrup, dumbed-down infotainment, and substandard political "leaders" the American public has been rendered passive, accepting whatever directive GOVERNMENT tells them, led like sheep to slaughter. Because most people are inclined to blindly follow any sweet-talking demagogue, following rather than questioning, many conspiracy theorists tell their cohorts to beware of the herd. It's not just conspiracy theorists who have had this point of view. Socrates and Nietzsche both rattled the cages of conformity. George Orwell wrote of a society led by "groupthink". Right now, I'm hearing The Police song "Synchronicity II" in my head (listen to the 2nd verse). Everybody's got their list of examples of herd mentality triumphing over common sense. If everybody jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you? This is a problem for us because Americans aren't supposed to be conformists. We're supposed to be a nation of self-sufficient, self-determined, self-made, rugged individuals. We're a people who praise the self-made man who, with the sole support of his own bootstraps, pull themselves from the bottom rungs to the highest reaches of success. This is the American story. Of course, there's plenty of philosophy to back this up: Rousseau wrote of the state of nature where man relied on his own smarts and autonomy to provide for himself. In fact, Rousseau wrote that man is by nature so independent, that he only need companionship for the brief duration that it requires to complete the reproductive act. The deal is, is this totally independent man never existed. Nor does he exist now. When you think about it, the idea that man is by nature solitary sounds kind of counter intutitve. It seems that a creature that does not need anyone other than himself would never feel loneliness, but we do. In Sunday school, we're taught that we're our brother's keepers, and that we will be judged by how we treat others. Getting in to Heaven is more of a group effort then we'd like to admit. We tell ourselves that people who spend too much time alone end up nutty. A lot of the talk, besides talk about conspiracy theories, about the unpleasantness in Arizona has been a lot of asking why no one that knew that dude did anything to get that guy help. Might not want to admit it, perhaps for fear of being overtaken by the herd, but humans are herd animals. We call our herds families or society or our culture. We know that conformity is a good thing. If we did not conform, our social bonds would dissolve and we'd end up in the bad kind of anarchy. You know, the kind where only Mel Gibson can help us out anarchy. Americans are a label-loving society. And the fact that we are such conformists makes us all the easier to label. We love keeping up with the Joneses and hate being the odd man out. We say that we love those who march to the beat of a different drummer, but only if that person plays a tune that we like. I don't know if I'm coming up with anything revelatory here, but I noticed that even those who are down on the public at large on their onformity rely heavily on conformity when it comes to their own beliefs. Conspiracy theorists want to be heard. They want to be believed. Dare I say, they want to be followed. That's why they put out videos, have radio shows, and go on TruTV talking about the goings on at Bohemian Grove. I don't know how many people have seen this, but I've had the supreme displeasure of witnessing duelling conspiracy theorists (this one is easy to set up: find one friend that thinks that the WTC was brought down by explosives and one who does not. Sit back and watch the tempers flare and the sparks fly). I think that any conspiracy theorist would have to admit this, but it's not the problem whether people are "sheeple" or not. What the issue is who they choose to follow. It's whether you believe that we're being assaulted by the New World Order or whether you choose to believe that nothing nefarious is afoot. Each side wants conformity to their point of view. To get the people to rise up and overthrow the puppet masters, you need people who will follow -- that's a brute fact. You know, now that I'm thinking about it, there's something else that seems quite odd about the whole 1984/1776 thing... In Orwell's 1984, Big Brother had a slogan, "Freedom is Slavery". And the answer to Big Brother's message is 1776. That's of course, a reference to Thomas Jefferson's words in the Declaration of Independence, where he wrote that all men have a right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness". So, the solution is to follow the words of a man who actually owned slaves, right? I mean, 1984 was just a book. But, then, that's a whole other conversation.

Two and a Half Conspiracy Theories

I'm a sucker for conspiracies. I'm not one of those types who offhandedly dismiss any and all 'they did it' plots as fanciful tales people think up because they can't deal with reality. I know that conspiracies can and do happen. I don't know who shot Kennedy, but I kow if there's a good tale to tell about who did, I'm so willing to listen. Which is why I am completely perplexed by the recent to-do about 9/11. I know that there are alot of theories out there about what happened and why. Some I think are worth looking at, others I think are the fanciful tales of people who not only have a difficulty facing reality, but probably have a equally difficult time leaving their homes. I am the first to admit that I don't know much, but I am willing to admit this one thing that I know for abosolutely certain: If you want to sure-firedly discredit any theory you take seriously, trot out Charlie Sheen to champion your cause. Ok. I enjoyed Platoon. I even liked Hot Shots. But really, if the "truther" movement wants to establish any credibility at all, they had better go with someone who carries a little more... well... I mean, look at the guy. He was a pretty hard-core drug user, and we all know that we have a hard time (collectively) trusting people who use. Any of us who has had first-hand experience living with a user knows that trust (for those who sue) isn't at the top of our lists. Let's not forget the gambling and the recreational use of whores. I don't want to throw stones here (although I am), but I think if Charlie Sheen's film career included more movies like Platoon and less like Men At Work, people would have an easier time taking him seriously. I mean, if Sir Kenneth Brannagh announced that we should look into 9/11, I think that some people would pay attention. Look, I'm not knocking his effort. I think that there are some things about the events of that day (and after) that do need looking into. Why did it take so long to get fighter jets up after the first plane hit the tower?Why was a private Saudi jet allowed to pick up members of the bin Laden family and shuttle them out of the United States (this after all air travel had been prohibited by the US gov't)? Was Flight 93 shot down? Why did President Bush say that he was no longer interested in finding bin Laden after he had announced that bin Laden was "wanted dead or alive"? What's with PNAC, and why did we have a "new pearl harbor" 9 months after the Bush Administration took office? There are a whole grip of questions that are worth asking. But not asked by Charlie Sheen!!! And really, it's not as if President Obama hasn't got his hands full with other issues. Not disincluding the recent resignation of his green jobs czar, Van Jones, because of Jones' signing a petition demanding that the government look into 9/11. I think that Mr. Obama already has his hands full with another set of conspiracy nuts already -- with the "birthers" n' all. I've said it before that I'm a fan of a good conspiracy. The problem is, is that although there are good conspiracy stories, there are very few good conspiracy arguments. I hear some of the people who believe that 9/11 was an inside job, or that President Obama isn't an American citizen, or that H1N1 is a plot to forward the eugenicist agenda and usher in the New World Order, on the radio, trying to convince the mostly non-believer hosts that what they believe isn't rubbish but warnings to be taken seriously. The problem is, is that they never argue their points very well. They're often shut down very quickly. They come off like hayseeds and yahoos who still 1) live with their parents, 2) lack a significant number of teeth and education, 3) are currently the product of or involved in a romantic relationship with a blood relative, or 4) all of the above. The problem, unfortunately, comes down to the fact that most people don't know how to argue well. This is a real problem for conspiracy fans. One tactic that they use is the scare tactic. This one is especially prevalent now (can you say death panels?). When someone uses a scare tactic as a method of argumentation, it's called argumentum ad bacculum (and it has nothing to do with Scott Bakula). The idea is that I suppory my conclusion by saying that if you don't accept it, dire consequences will follow. It goes a little something like this: After spending a half hour mapping out how the Illuminati is going to rid the world of 80% of the world's population (this mapping would be something like laying out premises for my argument) I conclude by saying "If you don't believe me, the eugenicists will shoot you up with mercury-tainted vaccines and kill you". That's pretty much the gist of the argument. It's believe me or die. It doesn't leave much room for a rebuttal. Of course, for anyone who may be off-put by my insulting either Charlie Sheen or truthers or conspiracy theorists in general, I say this with my tongue firmly planted in cheek. Well, except for the Charlie Sheen and the credibility stuff. FIN

Did You Know That If You Fold A $20 Bill...?!?!

Last Christmas, as a part of my holiday reading, I read the Warren Commission Report. That's because there's nothing that says season's greetings quite like reading about the Kennedy Assassination. Although it pretty much kills the joy of Christmas, it's utterly fascinating to read about how Oswald single-handedly planned and executed the murder of our 35th president. Maybe execute is a wrong choice of words. Now, I was reading the Warren Commission Report, not only because I thought it would make for interesting reading ( it did), but also because I'm also a conspiracy theory nut. All the while I was reading, I was thinking about the various theories (some more plausible than others) about the Kennedy Assassination. There are a couple of problems, though. I think that with a few of them, the plots to kill the president are so expansive that a person would discover that every American who was living at the time played a part in the assassination. It made me feel sorry for the President. It's like everyone else was in on a joke and didn't tell him. One hell of a punchline, though. Since I've vowed that I will never pay for anything that I can see for free on the internet, I was watching one of our more popular 9/11 conspiracy theory flicks. I'm not going to say exactly what the movie was, only that to say that the title sounded a little like Loose Change. I was watching, and really trying (hard) to believe what they were saying. But somehow, the philosopher inside me got the better of me and I started thinking "Ockham's Razor". I started thinking all sorts of crazy thoughts like 'this really seems a little far-fetched' and 'wow, if this goes as deep as they say, I think that I might be an Illuminati!'. This not the way to think when you're being told that World Trade 7 ws brought down by way of controlled demolition (I'm not saying that it wasn't). But when your list of conspiritors includes the Tri-Lateral Commission, Council on Foreign Relations, the Illuminati, the Freemasons, Bohemian Grove, half the cast from The Real World season 5, and the Jolly Green Giant, your conspiracies tend to get a little... top heavy. William of Ockham, for which Ockham's Razor is named, stated that, when we are to choose between competing theories (to explain scientific or philosophical claims or theories), that the simplier of the two theories is the one to be preferred. The point of Ockham's sentiment is that we need not, when we are in the business of explaining a given phenomena, cast our nets too broadly and pull in more theories or entities than we need. (Those who agree with Quine's need for "desert landscapes" most certainly appreciate this sentiment). And conspiracy theories are literally a slum (to use Quine again) of any manifestation and/or conjunction of evildoers than anyone with an active imagination can think of. Although Ockham's Razor is more a rule of thumb than a hard metaphysical claim (it merely suggests that we consider the simplest solution first, and does not rule out the possibility that a more complex theory may be the answer), it is important to know that there is such a thing as a theory becoming so complex that it collapses under its own weight. Unfortunately, those who peddle conspiracies tend to neglect this point. There is such a thing as a conspiracy becoming too big. When your conspiracy about events that happened 7 and a half years ago involve things that happened seven hundred years ago (and involves nearly as many people), it might be time to (at least) tidy up your theory. Which brings me to another point. While I'm slamming conspiracy theories (and I'm not saying that they don't happen), I realized that there is a particular tactic that conspiracy theorists use to "win" arguments. This is one that I learned in poly sci: argumentum ad ignorantiam. This is how you play this one: I tell you that there was no plane that hit the Pentagon. You disagree. I say prove that there wasn't . You say there's a big hole in the side of the building-- you're guessing plane-sized. I say, so? where's the plane parts -- don't see 'em, do ya? You say, well, no. Ah-ha! I proclaim. I won. You're stupid and a puppet of the New World Order! What did I just do? Obviously I didn't actually win any argument. I didn't need to. The fact that you couldn't conjure up any evidence to prove me wrong meant that I was right. Argumentum ad ignorantiam. It's like saying that aliens bulit the pyramids. I ask you to prove that I'm wrong. Can you? Exactamundo! I know that, by saying this, that I'm probably not going to be asked to guest on Coast to Coast anytime soon, but to satisfy the screaming philosopher in my head, I had to say something. I guess I'll go turn in my foil hat now.

should i be saying something important?

the world is going to hell. At least that's what is happenaing if I believe the countless array of conspiracy theorists that I listen to every day on the radio. (Actually, I only listen to two, and occasionally to Coast to Coast). The globalists are taking over, and we're all being threatened by genetic tampering and false flag operations carried out by the new world order, so they can manifest their plan for world domination. That's what I'm supposed to believe. Now, if I believe this, I should feel as if I am obligated to do something about it. That would be the Kantian thing to do, wouldn't it? But, even if I truly were an egoist-- and I'm not saying that I'm not-- I'd still be obligated to do something, if not motivated by my own self-interest not to be genetically tampered or new world ordered. I really should be doing a Howard Beale, screaming from the rooftops, or at least out nof my window, about how if we don't conquer the rising tide of new world orderdom, humanity is lost. But somehow, in the midst of all of this hell-going, I feel like ... well, not saying anything important at all. It's not for fear of being called "kooky" or a conspiracy nut or a foil head. It's not that at all. I mean, what's really the worst that could happen? Ok, so the globalsist take over, and they implement a plan of destruction that kills 80% of the human population. Is that really so bad? Now, before anyone accuses me of skipping towards Hitlerville, let me explain: What can a globalist do that nature isn't going to do already? I mean, if they (whoever "they" are) kill me, well... that was kind of going to happen no matter who is in charge. Like every other human, plant or animal, I'm going to die. I suppose there's something to do with the methods of killing that "they" might use -- firing squads, toxic gasses, starvation (that might take awhile in my case), death camps, weaponized viruses, and the like -- but still, any way it happens, all roads lead to Rome, so to speak. The end is the same. And would be the same whether I die peacefully at the ripe old age of 137, or whether it ends suddenly and horrendously at the hands of a minion of the new world order. The point is that no matter what any of us does, we're ... well... you know the rest. I was thinking that maybe I'm just too existentialist to care about the badness of death, so I can't see any importance in teling people that going to hell is necessarily a bad thing. I know that every man, in addition to being condemned to freedom, is also condemned to die. And really if that's the worst that can happen to any of us, then knowing and getting acquainted with its inevitability is the best thing to do. If fear is false evidence appearing real, then once we see the truth surrounding our own mortality, we are free to not fear it. So I can say, "Death? No biggie." I know, I know, I'm starting to sound like that dude in Romeo and Juliet who teases Romeo about love, and Romeo says something about his friend jesting at scars that have never felt wounds (or at least I think that's how it went, I didn't pay that much attention to Shakespeare in high school English class. And I'm not really sure how this fits the context of my discussion, anyway ). I've seen death, I mean really seen it. I've had the distinct "pleasure" of watching a loved one die, and I've lost a few others along the way. But that doesn't change the way that I feel. I still don't see what all these conspiracy folks are worked up about. I still don't feel motivated to spread the word to my fellow man. Is that wrong? Now, whether the conspiracies are real or not, and assuming that there is something important about telling them, is telling something important to people a moral obligation? Or, can my choice to not say anything important be a equally good moral judgment? Can I be doing good by not doing anything at all? I'm not so convinced that what I'm doing -- thinking and writing about philosophy and all that stuff that ultimately doesn't change anything, and not saying anything important -- is morally wrong. Maybe there's a hidden moral correctness to all the Britney Spears, Gerard Butler's, and Mary-Kate Olsen's out there. Maybe we don't see it, but they keep us from getting so caught up in all of the important stuff. Maybe they're here to remind us that we are, above all, mere human beings. Who wants a world full of Kants and Wittgensteins? I certainly don't. Sometimes we need reminding that we are but people here for only a short time, and that even when all is going to hell, we need to enjoy what we've got, which includes the ability to be trivial and frivilous. And that all of our points of view, be they important or not, are perfectly acceptable. So the globalists can have their world, I'm going to listen to "Circus".