Claudio Gutierrez 
Translated from Spanish by Inés Gutiérrez
Claudio Gutierrez
In section 3 we referred to the important distinction between logic and rhetoric, parallel to the equally important distinction between logic and psychology. We could say that rhetoric is logic and psychology applied to the task of convincing our fellow beings. A good argument is, undoubtedly, a very effective weapon in this task. But it assumes that our contender is an analytical person, that knows how to think, and controls his passions and imagination. Sadly, due to the poor education and self control of most people, it is sometimes more effective and convincing to use an argument that is logically weak or invalid but psychologically impressive. This should not be so. People ought to be more rational. The study of logic may sometimes contribute in attaining this. As far as we are concerned, we should never –as a matter of principle– use invalid or fallacious arguments in our discussions or presentations. For honesty’s sake, of course, but also to avoid the risk of being unmasked and denounced as tricky debaters. To avoid the use of these contemptible weapons, and to defend ourselves from their use by others, we must learn how to recognize these invalid arguments or fallacies.
How is it possible that logically invalid arguments are sometimes psychologically effective? The reason seems to be that language can fulfill many functions at the same time, as we learnt in seccion 5. By association of ideas, for example, emotional resonances in the words or phrases we use will weigh enough on our listeners as to make them accept baseless propositions. Moreover, we should remember that the members of our species are much less thinking machines than biological beings with feelings and axes to grind, and that argumentations heavily charged with affects or serving the hearer's desires are usually stronger than those appealing exclusively to the intellect.
All this been said, it is still true that our own valid argument may often be in practical need of emotional backing, which can only be supplied by persuasive tactics. Thus, as a complement of our examination of different fallacies, we will try to sketch some cognate techniques which could function on occasions as legitimate psychological props to bolster correct reasoning.
There are two types of fallacies or invalid arguments: those related to the sense of words or statements, and those related rather to the structure of propositions or arguments. In the current and next chapter we will discuss only the first kind, leaving the study of formal fallacies The fallacies of sense, also called informal fallacies, since they do not require the knowledge of logical structure for their study, can be classified into two great groups: fallacies of ambiguity and fallacies of irrelevance. The former has to do with the imprecise meaning of the terms, grammatical constructions, or examples we use. The latter consist of mistakes in what we are trying to prove or in recourses we employ which are really beside the point or irrelevant. These last kind of fallacies offer more opportunities of related legitimate use, since what is not to the point according to one person could well be relevant to another, or what is irrelevant within a set of circumstances could be perfectly pertinent under a different one. On the other hand, that which is incorrect because its lack of precision will hardly be applicable to a productive discussion.
We should note that ours will not be an exhaustive repertoire. There are more fallacies than those listed here, since human ingenuity invents new ways of persuading other people all the time. On the other hand, the classification is not absolute: different groupings of informal fallacies are perfectly possible. The classification we offer has certain theoretical and practical advantages which are the reasons we opted for them.
The fallacy of equivocation consists of using a word with two different –although related– meanings in the same argument, without explicitly announcing that the word is being used in both senses. For example, economic liberalism theorists affirm that the free exchange of goods should produce a situation of maximum utility for all consumers. The foundation for this assertion is that people exchange different units of their products until the utility of that which they deliver is the same as that they receive. So, if I produce rice but do not have beans, I will exchange my excess of rice for a few pounds of beans. But the rice that I give may be useful to another person that wants it only to throw it over a just-married couple, while the beans I receive may be useful, even necessary, because my children are starving. “Utility”, in each case, has a completely different meaning (1).
A celebrated example of equivocation is the one called “four-term syllogism”, where one concept, supposed to serve as a bridge that links two others, is used in two different contexts with different meaning in each. Example:
All contributions to peace must be approved by all men of good faith;
the massive bombardment of Vietnam
contributes to peace;
therefore, the massive bombardment of Vietnam must be approved by all men of good faith.
In this case, the idea of contributing to peace is being used in two very diverse senses, and the syllogism(2) is of course invalid.
Another common case of equivocation comes from the careless use of evaluative terms, such as “good”, “efficient”, etc. Each of these terms has a different meaning depending on the context within which they are applied. We can say, for example, that somebody will be an efficient administrator because he is an efficient teacher, or ask for votes for certain candidate adducing that he is a good husband, which undoubtedly does not guarantee that he will be a good statesman. In all such cases the inference is fallacious.
Sometimes, a word or group of words shifts its meaning according to the emphasis with which they are written or pronounced. For that reason, it is improper to quote a text from another author and underline certain words or phrases not emphasized in the original; underlining or italics can radically alter the author’s intention. Very often, underlining can turn the phrase into an ironic statement, and consequently, signify the absolute contrary of what was intended. For instance, to underline the word “careful” in the phrase “my careful friend” can make it appear that my friend is careless.
A very frequent case of distortion occurs in newspapers, when the journalist chooses as title for an article a phrase or part of a phrase of secondary importance. The deceptive emphasis can seriously change the effect of the article, especially affecting newspaper readers who only read headlines. Example:
An interesting form of emphasis occurs when mentioning commonplace events which should not have been mentioned in the first place because so widely known. About a neighbor who sees eye to eye with his wife, we can truthfully say: “Last night, my neighbor did not beat his wife.” But a slanderous effect would ensue as the consequence of the improper emphasis.
If I ask the same neighbor mentioned above, in front of witnesses, “Have you stopped beating your wife?” my interlocutor has every right to feel offended. His answer must be cold-blooded, so as to not give the impression that he is guilty of something. The answer can be neither “Yes” nor “No”. If affirmative, he would be implicitly recognizing that –on some occasion– he battered his wife. The appropriate answer would be: “Wait a minute, my friend. Your question is not a simple one that can be answered with a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’. It is a complex question which assumes that I have responded affirmatively to another question. The answer to that implicit question is, of course, a resounding ‘No’.”
EIn a campaign for election of the President of a Latin American university, a broadcaster asked the candidates: “Will the University be communist or anticommunist during the next term?” The question was a complex question, because it assumed that a previous question had already been answered affirmatively: “Should the University as such take political sides?”
It often happens that ambiguity in common language serves as a way for our interlocutor to evade certain affirmations he has made previously, or for him to avoid making the assertions we wish him to make. These recourses constitute a favorite weapon for politicians. The statesman accused of not fulfilling a promise can very well declare: “Yes, I said I would perform that work, but I didn’t say when. I will surely do it during my next term, if reelected.” Or he can say: “It is true that I offered not to raise taxes, but I did it on the assumption that the economy would continue with the same rate of growth. The electors will remember that I said: ‘The state of the economy is so healthy that my government will not raise taxes’.”
Apart from serving as an excuse, this fallacy is perfect for assuaging pangs of conscience in the face of so called “white lies”. When a creditor calls at my door looking for me, my wife can say: “I am sorry, but he is not in”, adding silently to herself “...for you”. This mental restriction usually procures peace of mind for those people who have made a rigid principle of the moral rule : “Thou shall not lie”; but the amphibological nature of the recourse is evident.
If I go from asserting a certain property of all parts of a whole to asserting that property of the whole itself, I commit the fallacy of composition. If each grain of sand is almost invisible, I cannot say because of that that the beach is almost invisible. More plausible cases occur in artistic or literary appreciation: if a musical play is valuable in each of its parts, it will not necessarily mean that it is valuable as a concert or symphony. Its different movements may be so absolutely contrasting that they become discordant when pretending to form a whole. The same is valid about the aesthetic quality of a face: the nose may be perfect, the eyes beautiful, the mouth well formed, but in spite of all these perfections, as a whole they can give the same impression as a Picasso’s portrait (no criticism of my favorite painter implied).
The fallacy of composition is also perpetrated when passing from the affirmation of a property possessed by all the members of a group to an affirmation of the same property relative to the group itself. Some authors have stated that all cultures must grow old, since all human beings grow old and it is they who compound the cultures. Such an assertion is clearly fallacious, for it is obvious that cultures are renewed by the birth of their new elements: each period of time will have approximately the same number of men of each age. Hence, if it is true that cultures themselves grow old, that should be demonstrated by other arguments; the composition one is not valid.
We say that Christians are part of the Holy Church. But we cannot conclude that each Christian is holy, since the holiness we are speaking of in the first statement is a property of the whole, the Church, as such, by being the creation of a Holy Man; it cannot be distributed between its parts. Each person may be holy or not, but in a different sense of the term, according to his or her moral individual excellence. Another example: a country may be powerful, but we cannot conclude that each of its citizens is also powerful; by far not. The relation between this fallacy and the fallacy of equivocation is considerable.
This one occurs when we talk about a property of the members of a group because it is held by the group itself. For example, we can conclude that diamonds are abundant because diamonds are stones, and stones are abundant. Or we can say that in a particular State, teachers earn more than congressmen, and offer as proof the bigger sum earmarked for their payment in the State budget. It is true that teachers earn more, but only as a group; individually, congressmen earn much more.
We mentioned before that there are certain people who apply moral rules rigidly, without considering circumstances. This is a mistake, as circumstances can radically change the evaluation of a moral situation. Obeying a traffic law on a certain occasion, when it is evident because of the circumstances that this way of acting will result in more bad than good, illustrates this point; for example, in a traffic jam, the best way to solve the problem may be that some vehicles circulate against the normal flow of traffic. In general, the fallacy occurs when a general rule is applied without considering the special circumstances of the specific case, which renders this application counter-productive. “Accident” is used here to designate details that are usually unimportant, and for that reason were not anticipated by the legislator, simply because he cannot foresee everything. But when they gain importance in a particular case, they can be decisive for the morality of the action. Example: If I store a friend’s revolver at his request, and one day –in a fit of rage– he asks me to return it, I cannot decide that I am compelled to hand it over to him in conformity with the rule that the owner of an object can dispose of it as he pleases; the special circumstances of the case, its accidents, will render that rule morally and legally inapplicable.
Note 1, written in 2000: Isn’t it ironic that I should criticize today this my own past example of a fallacy by
denouncing it, precisely, as fallacious? Well, it is very clear to me at this time that the
example commits not only one but two fallacies; the first one, quoting out of context, can be
considered a case of the fallacy of emphasis explained immediately below in this chapter; the
second one, the fallacy of
appeal to passions, explained in the next chapter. The 1968 author
might be correct when he states that the use of the term “utility” in some defenses of liberal
thesis could be equivocal (mostly, out of carelessness). Nevertheless, he himself commits the fallacy of emphasis by
disconnecting the example from the general context of economical analysis. Two important
things, at least, are left out. The first is the thesis that in each definite circumstance
the individual actor is the best judge of what is useful for him and his family. The second is
the thesis that, at middle or long term, free exchange leads to greater welfare than its
political alternatives. The reference to starving children, on the other hand, is a recourse to
emotions which should never be found in an example of a logical text.
Note 2:
Syllogism is a form of argument that requires the combination of three terms, not four –see Chapter XII.