http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m59ldU81Kl4&feature=watch_response
A few years ago, I was at work and a guy approached me and asked how many hours a week I work and how much I make. I made the mistake of telling him and he offered me a job with twice the pay and half the hours.
Well this much sounded pretty good, but I wanted more information, so I asked, “What kind of work is it?”
His reply was, “Right around the corner, man. Phone company.”
Hmm. Okay. I suppose that information could be useful under the right circumstances. But what kind of work is it? Of course, I didn’t actually repeat the question. I already had enough information to decline. You see, what I had asked was what the work consisted of. What he told me was where it was and who it was for. Apparently, whatever the work in question consisted of, it was the kind of work suckers are recruited for and he approached me because I struck him as a sucker; someone who would solicit one particular piece of information, but could, in return, be given two completely different pieces of information, and would be so overwhelmed by the generosity of the act that I wouldn’t even notice that my question had not actually been answered. Of course, what kind of job at the phone company could it be that he would try to coax me into considering it without even telling me what its responsibilities consisted of? I know of only one such job: telemarketing. Thank you, but I’ll pass.
One justification Bush used for the invasion of Iraq was the allegation that we had reason to believe that Iraq Syria
“Why did Bush say there are WMDs in Iraq
“They’re in Syria
“Okay. Then why did he say they’re in Iraq Syria
Here’s a better question. How is this character going to react the day we invade that country and find they’re not there either? How many countries should we invade, how many governments should we topple just on this allegation before we demand real justification?
These responses were both designed not to answer the question but to distract from it. Behold the Red Herring.
Ages ago it was believed, if one was on the run and being tracked with dogs, one could drag a red herring across one’s trail and it would throw them off the scent. I wouldn’t presume to guess how well this works (though I wouldn’t bank on it), but in any case, this is where this fallacy got its name. A Red Herring is a response intended to distract from a question instead of answering it.
There are many different kinds of red herrings. The ad hominem and appeal to authority, both of which I focused on previously in this series, are the most common examples. The ad hominem seeks to draw attention away from an argument’s strengths by assailing the credentials of its arguer. The appeal to authority seeks to draw attention away from an argument’s weaknesses by heralding the credentials of its arguer.
Another good example, which lately I’ve been dealing with a great deal, is the meaningless observation. In one of my videos, I discussed the just-in-case argument for religious belief, also known as Pascal’s Wager. One person who viewed that described me as a great speaker and I appreciated that very much. Someone responded to this with the comment. “Great speaker? Ha. He’s obviously reading off of his screen.”
Ummm..... Yes. I read off of my screen. I am reading off of my screen at this very moment. I make no secret of this. In my videos, I sometimes monologue about some pretty complex things with a lot of facets which I consider relevant and I want to make certain I don’t leave anything out. I want to be thorough. So I use a script. You know. Like a news anchor. (shudders) How scandalous! May God protect us against thorough people who read!
What’s a great speaker? Someone who speaks very well. If I’m reading off of my screen at the time, that makes me also a great reader. And modest as well. Since when has being a great speaker been incompatible with frickin’ literacy?
More importantly, what does any of this have to do with Pascal’s Wager? If I make a video listing the problems with this concept, any response which criticizes me, or heralds ol’ Blaise, or points out details about anything which do nothing to defend the Wager against my criticism is a meaningless, irrelevant observation and a red herring. Reading
Another very common kind of red herring I’ve had some dealings with is the wild goose chase. I prefer to call it the presumptive assignment. What if someone were to say to you that, contrary to popular belief, the world really is a flat disk and he can prove it, but first you have to spend five years as his acolyte to get into the proper frame of mind? You would find that a little convenient, presumptuous, and pretentious, wouldn’t you? Apparently, proof is available, but only after five years of mental conditioning. This, of course, begs the question, “Can you give me any reason firmer than your declaration to believe that there really is proof at the end of this particular tunnel?”
I had a video in which I discussed the equivocal nature of faith and someone told me that I was mistaken and that I need to read philosophy. Hmm. So then if I start reading philosophy and just keep reading and reading, eventually I’ll reach a point where I realize the error of the reasoning I offered there. And if I spend a year reading and haven’t reached it yet, that means I need to keep reading. And if I spend five years and haven’t reached that point, I need to keep reading. And if I devote a good 40 years of my life to reading every philosophical composition ever written and am still not convinced, no doubt that means that I missed it and need to start over.
And what if this is just a big time-wasting tactic intended to evade from the real issue? Surely, that couldn’t be the case.
Another real problem with this particular fallacy (the presumptive assignment) is the ease with which it is turned around. On the video about Pascal’s Wager, this character I described previously shortly went on to tell me that I was working with a pan-human concept of God, which is apparently not the right one, and I needed to read a certain book. One other character and I expressed some hesitation about taking him up on this claim and he presumed to tear into us about our alleged fear of learning something which might challenge our preconceptions.
I told him that I know that the book in question has absolutely nothing relevant to contribute to this particular discussion, and if he doubts this assertion, he may examine my proof by watching every last one of my videos and favorites, as well as all the videos and favorites of all of my friends, subscribers, and subscriptions, twice. I reassured him that, if he does all that, it will become apparent to him, but if he doesn’t, it’s because he’s scared of learning something which might challenge his preconceptions. He tried to give me a presumptive assignment and I returned the favor.
Pardon me while I digress for a moment. If it’s true, as this character alleges, that I was using the incorrect sense of the word “God,” that’s especially interesting. You see, the sense I was using was precisely the same sense being used by ol’ Blaise, so if this sense is incorrect, then that’s just one more problem with this so-called argument.
Now, coming back from the tangent, if disagreeing with the position someone else holds entitles you to dictate how that person spends his or her free time, it entitles that person to return the favor; to reciprocate the imperative. The simple act of declaring my argument incorrect does not mean that you get to tell me how to spend my free time.
This is also a common tactic among Christians and Muslims when they insist that I will become convinced if I just read this, that, or the other book. Now let’s be clear about this. There are no rational reasons for believing in any gods. Now let me qualify that. You see, I’m not just saying that I’ve never been given any. I’m saying that there are none. Any rational reasons for believing in any gods do not exist.
Perhaps you’re wondering how I could possibly conclude this so certainly, since after all, I couldn’t possibly have discussed it with every believer in the world. I couldn’t possibly have read every text on the subject. Well, after spending a few years being given the same absurdities over and over again, the same completely irrational reasons, I am left to conclude that, if there were rational reasons, they would be common knowledge among believers. One who has any rational reasons at all to believe something has no need to rely on a laundry list of irrational reasons. Clergy are educated people. If there were rational reasons to believe, they would know about them and would make them common knowledge among their followers. The fact that this is not the case is all the evidence I need.
Let’s say that someone gets to you in a younger, more naive, more credulous period in your life and tells you that, at the very bottom of a certain pile of elephant droppings lies a gold nugget. Of course, being intelligent, you recognize that the possibility exists, so you track down the pile in question and start digging. Of course, it’s not until you get to the very bottom that you realize that the individual who told you this was either deliberately lying, deceived, or mistaken. How are you going to react the next time someone comes to you with this claim? What if people come to you with this claim over and over again for a few years?
Let’s not kid each other here. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. After a few times, you’ll stop buying it. You’ll learn your lesson. Now does the possibility exist that the next pile of dung might be the one which really contains the gold nugget? Well, I suppose. But are you really going to insist on sifting through them one by one just because the possibility exists? Is that really practical? Is it really worth it? No.
“Oh, but, if you don’t have that nugget to tip the bouncer, you won’t be able to get into the party.”
“Well, you see, to believe that, I would first have to believe that the party is going to happen, and I don’t.”
“Well if you don’t have the nugget when the party starts, you’ll spend the rest of eternity being walloped on the caboose with a two-by-four.”
“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you? I mean, you’re asking me to believe one thing on the grounds of another thing which I don’t believe.”
“Well, can you really afford not to believe it? I mean what if you’re wrong? You risk the two-by-four for eternity.”
“Was this really the best arrangement they could come up with? I hope that party’s gonna have headache medicine.”
Sounds to me like a good way to get a lot of naive people covered in elephant dung.
“You have found the nugget, but you will not see.”
Well okay. I’ve digressed again, but you get the idea. Given my tendency to expend tremendous sums of thought with very little provocation, I tend to be more susceptible to this one than to others. In my case, other monstrous failures of reasoning make very useful Red Herrings.
Here, I have a punchline as well. I don’t remember which, but in one of my videos, someone accused me of trying to be confusing by relying on a lot of “multisyllabic terminology.”
“Multisyllabic terminology?” You mean “words with more than one syllable?” Words like, say, “multisyllabic” and “terminology?” Is that what it means when someone relies on words with more than one syllable; that he or she is trying to be confusing? Interesting. Why’s this chuckle-head doing it?
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