Practical Argumentation - George K. Pattee (first ebook reader .TXT) 📗

promised to obey them; and we are informed that he was accustomed to hear prayers at six o’clock in the morning!

Whenever an arguer avoids the question at issue and makes an attack upon the character, principles, or former beliefs or personal peculiarities of his opponent, he commits the special form of this fallacy known as argumentum ad hominem. It is obviously fallacious to reason that a principle is unsound because it is upheld by an untrustworthy advocate, or because it is inconsistent with the advocate’s former beliefs and practices. Honesty is a worthy principle, even though advocated by a thief. The duty of industry is no less binding because it is advocated by an idler. Lawyers often commit this error by seeking to discredit the opposing attorney. Campaign speakers frequently attempt to overthrow the opposing party’s platform by showing that it is inconsistent with the party’s previous measures and declarations. To bring in such irrelevant matter is to ignore the question.

Closely allied to argumentum ad hominem is another phase of ignoring the question called argumentum ad populum. This fallacy consists of using before a certain audience statements which will strongly appeal to their prejudices and partisan views, but which are not generally accepted facts and which would undoubtedly meet with strong opposition elsewhere. A speaker who brings in this kind of argument makes use neither of reasoning nor of legitimate persuasion. He neglects his proposition and attempts to excite the feelings of his audience to such an extent as to render them incapable of forming a dispassionate judgment upon the matter in hand.

In general, it is necessary only to point out a fallacy to weaken an argument. Sometimes, however, the error is so involved and so hidden that, though it is apparent to one who is arguing, yet it is not easily made apparent to the audience. In overcoming this difficulty, arguers often resort to certain peculiar devices of arranging and presenting the material for refutation. Long experience has shown that the two methods given here are of inestimable value.

 

VI. REDUCTIO AD ABSURDUM. (REDUCING TO AN ABSURDITY.)

The method of refuting an argument by reductio ad absurdum consists of showing that the argument to be refuted, if true, proves not only the conclusion given, but also other conclusions which are manifestly absurd. For example, a debater once contended that colleges should not seek to root out professionalism in athletic sports, because, by coming in contact with college life, professional players receive considerable benefit. His opponent answered him by showing that the same argument carried out to its logical conclusion would prove that a college should encourage the attendance of criminals and degenerates on the ground that they will be benefited thereby. Thus he reduced the argument to a manifest absurdity.

At one time the officers of a national bank permitted their institution to be wrecked by certifying, and thereby practically guaranteeing, the checks of a firm of stock-holders when the brokers did not have the money represented by the checks deposited in the bank. This was distinctly a criminal offense. The brokers failed, and, the bank having closed its doors in consequence, the president of the bank was brought to trial. The Atlantic Monthly reduces to an absurdity the chief argument used for the defense.

A jury having been empaneled to try him, he pleaded guilty, his counsel urging, as a reason for clemency, that the violation of this statute was a habit of the New York banks in the Wall Street district, and that if the wrecked bank had not followed this law-breaking custom of its competitors the stock brokers would have withdrawn their account. The plea was successful, and the officer escaped with a small fine. Imagine a burglar or a pickpocket urging a plea for clemency based on the general business habits and customs of his criminal confr�res! [Footnote: The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 94, p. 173.]

Mr. E. A. Freeman, the historian, once made the statement that English literature cannot be taught. His course of reasoning was to the effect that it is impossible to teach a subject in which one cannot be examined; and he maintained that it is impossible to hold satisfactory examinations in English literature, since this is a subject which is studied for the purpose of cultivating the taste, educating the sympathies, and enlarging the mind. If this reasoning proves anything, it has been pointed out, it proves too much. What Mr. Freeman says of English literature may equally well be said of Latin, Greek, and every other kind of literature. But as Latin and Greek literature have been successfully taught for hundreds of years, Mr. Freeman’s argument is absurd.

College students are continually urging as a defense of professionalism in their own athletic teams the argument that since other colleges employ professional players it is necessary for them to do likewise. By carrying this argument a step farther, one could show, with equal reason, that since drinking, stealing and cheating are prevalent in other colleges, these same practices should also be indulged in at the college in question. In the same way one may refute by reductio ad absurdum all such arguments as, “Custom has rendered the spoils system desirable”; “The prevalency of the high license law shows its superiority to prohibition”; and “Since in the past all college students were required to study Latin and Greek, these subjects should be required at the present time.”

 

II. THE DILEMMA.

Another device an arguer will often find useful in refuting an opponent’s statement is the dilemma. In the dilemma the arguer shows that the statement he wishes to disprove can be true only through the truth of at least one of several possibilities. He then proves that these possibilities are untenable, and therefore the original statement is false. To represent the dilemma with letters: The truth of A rests upon the truth of either x or y; but as x and y are both false, A is false. Once when it was believed in certain quarters that Japan was about to undertake a war against the United States, many people maintained that if Japan desired to go to war she was amply able to finance such an undertaking. In reply to this contention, a certain newspaper, making use of the dilemma, said that since Japan had no money in the treasury she could meet the expenses of war in only three ways: either by contracting a large debt, or by increasing taxation, or by indemnifying herself at the expense of the enemy. The paper then went on to prove that Japan was not in a position to float a large loan, that taxes in Japan were already as heavy as the people could bear, and that she could not hope, at least for a long time, to secure any indemnity from the enemy. Therefore Japan was not in a financial position to enter upon a war with the United States.

In attempting to show that municipalities do not have the moral right to own and operate public utilities, T. Carpenter Smith uses the dilemma. He says:—

“Any commercial business is carried on either at a profit, or at a loss, or in such a way that the expenses equal the income. If the city business of gas or electric lighting is to be carried on at a profit, then those citizens who use gas or electric light will be charged a high price for that light, in order to pay the profit, not only to themselves, but also to those who do not use it. If the works are to be carried on at a loss, then the citizens who do not use the gas or electric light will pay taxes to furnish a convenience or economy to those citizens who do use it. If the works are to be operated exactly at cost, then the city will carry on a business from which it will get nothing, but in which it will have to take the labor and risk incident to such a business in order to benefit only some of its citizens, furnishing a commodity not desired by all.”

In conversation and debate, the dilemma is frequently introduced by means of a question. The debater, wishing to trap his opponent, asks him a pertinent question which previous investigation has shown can possibly be answered in only two or three ways, and which the opponent cannot afford to answer at all. A good illustration of this device occurs in the New Testament.

And it came to pass, on one of the days, as he was teaching the people in the temple, and preaching the gospel, there came upon him the chief priests and the scribes with the elders; and they spake, saying unto him, Tell us: By what authority doest thou these things? or who is he that gave thee this authority? And he answered and said unto them, I also will ask you a question; and tell me: The baptism of John, was it from heaven, or from men? And they reasoned with themselves, saying, If we shall say, From heaven; he will say, Why did ye not believe him? But if we shall say, From men; all the people will stone us: for they be persuaded that John was a prophet. And they answered, that they knew not whence it was. And Jesus said unto them, Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things. [Footnote: Luke xx, 1-8.]

During the Lincoln-Douglas debates in 1858, when both men were seeking the United States senatorship from Illinois, Lincoln, wishing either to kill Douglas’s senatorial prospects or to head him off from the presidency two years later, asked him a question which put him in a dilemma. Ida M. Tarbell describes the question as follows:—

“Can the people of a United States territory in any lawful way, against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State Constitution?” Lincoln had seen the irreconcilableness of Douglas’s own measure of popular sovereignty, which declared that the people of a territory should be left to regulate their domestic concerns in their own way subject only to the Constitution, and the decision of the Supreme Court in the Dred Scott case that slaves, being property, could not under the Constitution be excluded from a territory. He knew that if Douglas said no to this question, his Illinois constituents would never return him to the Senate. He believed that if he said yes, the people of the South would never vote for him for President of the United States.

In the last example, Lincoln, by forcing Douglas to answer this question, sought to destroy, and, as history shows, did destroy, the popular conception of Douglas’s fitness for public office.

Before one can safely use the dilemma he must carefully investigate every phase of the statement that he wishes to refute. If he is to use the dilemma directly, he must consider every possibility—commonly called the horns of the dilemma—upon which the truth of the statement may rest. If there is a single possibility which he is not ready to meet and overthrow, his whole effort is fruitless. For instance, a debater, in attempting to rebut the statement that college fraternities are harmful, said that his opponent must show that fraternities are either morally, socially, financially or intellectually detrimental to their members; he then proved as best he could that in these respects fraternities are beneficial rather than harmful, and sat down thinking that he had gone a long way toward winning the debate. His opponent then arose and admitting nearly everything that had been said, based his argument on the idea that fraternities were harmful to the college as a whole. The first speaker had not considered every alternative. If an arguer is to approach a