The Essays of Arthur Schopenhauer; The Art of Controversy - Arthur Schopenhauer
XXIV.
This trick consists in stating a false syllogism. Your opponent makes
a proposition, and by false inference and distortion of his ideas you
force from it other propositions which it does not contain and he does
not in the least mean; nay, which are absurd or dangerous. It then
looks as if his proposition gave rise to others which are inconsistent
either with themselves or with some acknowledged truth, and so it
appears to be indirectly refuted. This is the _diversion_, and it is
another application of the fallacy _non causae ut causae_.
XXV.
This is a case of the _diversion_ by means of an _instance to the
contrary_. With an induction ([Greek: epagogae]), a great number
of particular instances are required in order to establish it as a
universal proposition; but with the _diversion_ ([Greek: apagogae]) a
single instance, to which the proposition does not apply, is all that
is necessary to overthrow it. This is a controversial method known
as the _instance_--_instantia_, [Greek: enstasis]. For example, "all
ruminants are horned" is a proposition which may be upset by the
single instance of the camel. The _instance_ is a case in which a
universal truth is sought to be applied, and something is inserted in
the fundamental definition of it which is not universally true, and by
which it is upset. But there is room for mistake; and when this trick
is employed by your opponent, you must observe (1) whether the example
which he gives is really true; for there are problems of which the
only true solution is that the case in point is not true--for example,
many miracles, ghost stories, and so on; and (2) whether it really
comes under the conception of the truth thus stated; for it may only
appear to do so, and the matter is one to be settled by precise
distinctions; and (3) whether it is really inconsistent with this
conception; for this again may be only an apparent inconsistency.
XXVI.
A brilliant move is the _retorsio argumenti_, or turning of the
tables, by which your opponent's argument is turned against himself.
He declares, for instance, "So-and-so is a child, you must make
allowance for him." You retort, "Just because he is a child, I must
correct him; otherwise he will persist in his bad habits."
XXVII.
Should your opponent surprise you by becoming particularly angry at an
argument, you must urge it with all the more zeal; not only because it
is a good thing to make him angry, but because it may be presumed that
you have here put your finger on the weak side of his case, and that
just here he is more open to attack than even for the moment you
perceive.
XXVIII.
This is chiefly practicable in a dispute between scholars in the
presence of the unlearned. If you have no argument _ad rem_, and none
either _ad hominem_, you can make one _ad auditores_; that is to say,
you can start some invalid objection, which, however, only an expert
sees to be invalid. Now your opponent is an expert, but those who form
your audience are not, and accordingly in their eyes he is defeated;
particularly if the objection which you make places him in any
ridiculous light. People are ready to laugh, and you have the laughers
on your side. To show that your objection is an idle one, would
require a long explanation on the part of your opponent, and a
reference to the principles of the branch of knowledge in question, or
to the elements of the matter which you are discussing; and people are
not disposed to listen to it.
For example, your opponent states that in the original formation of a
mountain-range the granite and other elements in its composition were,
by reason of their high temperature, in a fluid or molten state; that
the temperature must have amounted to some 480 deg. Fahrenheit; and that
when the mass took shape it was covered by the sea. You reply, by an
argument _ad auditores_, that at that temperature--nay, indeed, long
before it had been reached, namely, at 212 deg. Fahrenheit--the sea would
have been boiled away, and spread through the air in the form of
steam. At this the audience laughs. To refute the objection, your
opponent would have to show that the boiling-point depends not only on
the degree of warmth, but also on the atmospheric pressure; and that
as soon as about half the sea-water had gone off in the shape of
steam, this pressure would be so greatly increased that the rest of it
would fail to boil even at a temperature of 480 deg.. He is debarred from
giving this explanation, as it would require a treatise to demonstrate
the matter to those who had no acquaintance with physics.
XXIX.[1]
[Footnote 1: See sec. xviii.]
If you find that you are being worsted, you can make a
_diversion_--that is, you can suddenly begin to talk of something
else, as though it had a bearing on the matter in dispute, and
afforded an argument against your opponent. This may be done without
presumption if the diversion has, in fact, some general bearing on the
matter; but it is a piece of impudence if it has nothing to do with
the case, and is only brought in by way of attacking your opponent.
For example, I praised the system prevailing in China, where there is
no such thing as hereditary nobility, and offices are bestowed only on
those who succeed in competitive examinations. My opponent maintained
that learning, as little as the privilege of birth (of which he had a
high opinion) fits a man for office. We argued, and he got the worst
of it. Then he made a diversion, and declared that in China all
ranks were punished with the bastinado, which he connected with the
immoderate indulgence in tea, and proceeded to make both of them a
subject of reproach to the Chinese. To follow him into all this would
have been to allow oneself to be drawn into a surrender of the victory
which had already been won.
The diversion is mere impudence if it completely abandons the point in
dispute, and raises, for instance, some such objection as "Yes, and
you also said just now," and so on. For then the argument becomes to
some extent personal; of the kind which will be treated of in the last
section. Strictly speaking, it is half-way between the _argumentum
ad personam_, which will there be discussed, and the _argumentum ad
hominem_.
How very innate this trick is, may be seen in every quarrel between
common people. If one of the parties makes some personal reproach
against the other, the latter, instead of answering it by refuting it,
allows it to stand,--as it were, admits it; and replies by reproaching
his antagonist on some other ground. This is a stratagem like that
pursued by Scipio when he attacked the Carthaginians, not in Italy,
but in Africa. In war, diversions of this kind may be profitable; but
in a quarrel they are poor expedients, because the reproaches remain,
and those who look on hear the worst that can be said of both parties.
It is a trick that should be used only _faute de mieux_.
XXX.
This is the _argumentum ad verecundiam_. It consists in making an
appeal to authority rather than reason, and in using such an authority
as may suit the degree of knowledge possessed by your opponent.
Every man prefers belief to the exercise of judgment, says Seneca; and
it is therefore an easy matter if you have an authority on your side
which your opponent respects. The more limited his capacity and
knowledge, the greater is the number of the authorities who weigh with
him. But if his capacity and knowledge are of a high order, there
are very few; indeed, hardly any at all. He may, perhaps, admit the
authority of professional men versed in a science or an art or a
handicraft of which he knows little or nothing; but even so he will
regard it with suspicion. Contrarily, ordinary folk have a deep
respect for professional men of every kind. They are unaware that
a man who makes a profession of a thing loves it not for the thing
itself, but for the money he makes by it; or that it is rare for a man
who teaches to know his subject thoroughly; for if he studies it as he
ought, he has in most cases no time left in which to teach it.
But there are very many authorities who find respect with the mob, and
if you have none that is quite suitable, you can take one that appears
to be so; you may quote what some said in another sense or in other
circumstances. Authorities which your opponent fails to understand are
those of which he generally thinks the most. The unlearned entertain a
peculiar respect for a Greek or a Latin flourish. You may also, should
it be necessary, not only twist your authorities, but actually falsify
them, or quote something which you have invented entirely yourself. As
a rule, your opponent has no books at hand, and could not use them if
he had. The finest illustration of this is furnished by the French
_cure_, who, to avoid being compelled, like other citizens, to pave
the street in front of his house, quoted a saying which he described
as biblical: _paveant illi, ego non pavebo_. That was quite enough for
the municipal officers. A universal prejudice may also be used as an
authority; for most people think with Aristotle that that may be said
to exist which many believe. There is no opinion, however absurd,
which men will not readily embrace as soon as they can be brought to
the conviction that it is generally adopted. Example affects their
thought just as it affects their action. They are like sheep following
the bell-wether just as he leads them. They would sooner die than
think. It is very curious that the universality of an opinion should
have so much weight with people, as their own experience might tell
them that its acceptance is an entirely thoughtless and merely
imitative process. But it tells them nothing of the kind, because they
possess no self-knowledge whatever. It is only the elect Who Say with
Plato: [Greek: tois pollois polla dokei] which means that the public
has a good many bees in its bonnet, and that it would be a long
business to get at them.
But to speak seriously, the universality of an opinion is no proof,
nay, it is not even a probability, that the opinion is right. Those
who maintain that it is so must assume (1) that length of time
deprives a universal opinion of its demonstrative force, as otherwise
all the old errors which were once universally held to be true would
have to be recalled; for instance, the Ptolemaic system would have
to be restored, or Catholicism re-established in all Protestant
countries. They must assume (2) that distance of space has the same
effect; otherwise the respective universality of opinion among the
adherents of Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam will put them in a
difficulty.
When we come to look into the matter, so-called universal opinion is
the opinion of two or three persons; and we should be persuaded of
this if we could see the way in which it really arises.
We should find that it is two or three persons who, in the first
instance, accepted it, or advanced and maintained it; and of whom
people were so good as to believe that they had thoroughly tested it.
Then a few other persons, persuaded beforehand that the first were men
of the requisite capacity, also accepted the opinion. These, again,
were trusted by many others, whose laziness suggested to them that it
was better to believe at once, than to go through the troublesome task
of testing the matter for themselves. Thus the number of these lazy
and credulous adherents grew from day to day; for the opinion had no
sooner obtained a fair measure of support than its further supporters
attributed this to the fact that the opinion could only have obtained
it by the cogency of its arguments. The remainder were then compelled
to grant what was universally granted, so as not to pass for unruly
persons who resisted opinions which every one accepted, or pert
fellows who thought themselves cleverer than any one else.
When opinion reaches this stage, adhesion becomes a duty; and
henceforward the few who are capable of forming a judgment hold their
peace. Those who venture to speak are such as are entirely incapable
of forming any opinions or any judgment of their own, being merely the
echo of others' opinions; and, nevertheless, they defend them with all
the greater zeal and intolerance. For what they hate in people who
think differently is not so much the different opinions which they
profess, as the presumption of wanting to form their own judgment; a
presumption of which they themselves are never guilty, as they are
very well aware. In short, there are very few who can think, but
every man wants to have an opinion; and what remains but to take it
ready-made from others, instead of forming opinions for himself?
Since this is what happens, where is the value of the opinion even of
a hundred millions? It is no more established than an historical
fact reported by a hundred chroniclers who can be proved to have
plagiarised it from one another; the opinion in the end being
traceable to a single individual.[1] It is all what I say, what you
say, and, finally, what he says; and the whole of it is nothing but a
series of assertions:
[Footnote 1: See Bayle's _Pensees sur les Cometes_, i., p. 10.]
_Dico ego, tu dicis, sed denique dixit et ille;
Dictaque post toties, nil nisi dicta vides_.
Nevertheless, in a dispute with ordinary people, we may employ
universal opinion as an authority. For it will generally be found that
when two of them are fighting, that is the weapon which both of them
choose as a means of attack. If a man of the better sort has to deal
with them, it is most advisable for him to condescend to the use
of this weapon too, and to select such authorities as will make an
impression on his opponent's weak side. For, _ex hypoihesi_, he is as
insensible to all rational argument as a horny-hided Siegfried, dipped
in the flood of incapacity, and unable to think or judge. Before
a tribunal the dispute is one between authorities alone,--such
authoritative statements, I mean, as are laid down by legal experts;
and here the exercise of judgment consists in discovering what law or
authority applies to the case in question. There is, however, plenty
of room for Dialectic; for should the case in question and the law not
really fit each other, they can, if necessary, be twisted until they
appear to do so, or _vice versa_.
XXXI.
If you know that you have no reply to the arguments which your
opponent advances, you may, by a fine stroke of irony, declare
yourself to be an incompetent judge: "What you now say passes my
poor powers of comprehension; it may be all very true, but I can't
understand it, and I refrain from any expression of opinion on it." In
this way you insinuate to the bystanders, with whom you are in good
repute, that what your opponent says is nonsense. Thus, when Kant's
_Kritik_ appeared, or, rather, when it began to make a noise in the
world, many professors of the old ecclectic school declared that they
failed to understand it, in the belief that their failure settled the
business. But when the adherents of the new school proved to them that
they were quite right, and had really failed to understand it, they
were in a very bad humour.
This is a trick which may be used only when you are quite sure that
the audience thinks much better of you that of your opponent. A
professor, for instance may try it on a student.
Strictly, it is a case of the preceding trick: it is a particularly
malicious assertion of one's own authority, instead of giving reasons.
The counter-trick is to say: "I beg your pardon; but, with your
penetrating intellect, it must be very easy for you to understand
anything; and it can only be my poor statement of the matter that is
at fault"; and then go on to rub it into him until he understands it
_nolens volens_, and sees for himself that it was really his own fault
alone. In this way you parry his attack. With the greatest politeness
he wanted to insinuate that you were talking nonsense; and you, with
equal courtesy, prove to him that he is a fool.
XXXII.
If you are confronted with an assertion, there is a short way of
getting rid of it, or, at any rate, of throwing suspicion on it, by
putting it into some odious category; even though the connection
is only apparent, or else of a loose character. You can say,
for instance, "That is Manichasism," or "It is Arianism," or
"Pelagianism," or "Idealism," or "Spinozism," or "Pantheism," or
"Brownianism," or "Naturalism," or "Atheism," or "Rationalism,"
"Spiritualism," "Mysticism," and so on. In making an objection of this
kind, you take it for granted (1) that the assertion in question is
identical with, or is at least contained in, the category cited--that
is to say, you cry out, "Oh, I have heard that before"; and (2) that
the system referred to has been entirely refuted, and does not contain
a word of truth.
XXXIII.
"That's all very well in theory, but it won't do in practice." In
this sophism you admit the premisses but deny the conclusion, in
contradiction with a well-known rule of logic. The assertion is
based upon an impossibility: what is right in theory _must_ work
in practice; and if it does not, there is a mistake in the theory;
something has been overlooked and not allowed for; and, consequently,
what is wrong in practice is wrong in theory too.
XXXIV.
When you state a question or an argument, and your opponent gives you
no direct answer or reply, but evades it by a counter-question or an
indirect answer, or some assertion which has no bearing on the matter,
and, generally, tries to turn the subject, it is a sure sign that you
have touched a weak spot, sometimes without knowing it. You have, as
it were, reduced him to silence. You must, therefore, urge the point
all the more, and not let your opponent evade it, even when you do not
know where the weakness which you have hit upon really lies.
XXXV.
There is another trick which, as soon as it is practicable, makes all
others unnecessary. Instead of working on your opponent's intellect by
argument, work on his will by motive; and he, and also the audience if
they have similar interests, will at once be won over to your opinion,
even though you got it out of a lunatic asylum; for, as a general
rule, half an ounce of will is more effective than a hundredweight of
insight and intelligence. This, it is true, can be done only under
peculiar circumstances. If you succeed in making your opponent feel
that his opinion, should it prove true, will be distinctly prejudicial
to his interest, he will let it drop like a hot potato, and feel that
it was very imprudent to take it up.
A clergyman, for instance, is defending some philosophical dogma; you
make him sensible of the fact that it is in immediate contradiction
with one of the fundamental doctrines of his Church, and he abandons
it.
A landed proprietor maintains that the use of machinery in
agricultural operations, as practised in England, is an excellent
institution, since an engine does the work of many men. You give him
to understand that it will not be very long before carriages are also
worked by steam, and that the value of his large stud will be greatly
depreciated; and you will see what he will say.
In such cases every man feels how thoughtless it is to sanction a law
unjust to himself--_quam temere in nosmet legem sancimus iniquam_! Nor
is it otherwise if the bystanders, but not your opponent, belong to
the same sect, guild, industry, club, etc., as yourself. Let his
thesis be never so true, as soon as you hint that it is prejudicial to
the common interests of the said society, all the bystanders will find
that your opponent's arguments, however excellent they be, are weak
and contemptible; and that yours, on the other hand, though they were
random conjecture, are correct and to the point; you will have a
chorus of loud approval on your side, and your opponent will be driven
out of the field with ignominy. Nay, the bystanders will believe, as a
rule, that they have agreed with you out of pure conviction. For what
is not to our interest mostly seems absurd to us; our intellect being
no _siccum lumen_. This trick might be called "taking the tree by its
root"; its usual name is the _argumentum ab utili_.
XXXVI.
You may also puzzle and bewilder your opponent by mere bombast; and
the trick is possible, because a man generally supposes that there
must be some meaning in words:
_Gewoehnlich glaubt der Mensch, wenn er nur Worte hoert,
Es muesse sich dabei doch auch was denken lassen_.
If he is secretly conscious of his own weakness, and accustomed to
hear much that he does not understand, and to make as though he did,
you can easily impose upon him by some serious fooling that sounds
very deep or learned, and deprives him of hearing, sight, and thought;
and by giving out that it is the most indisputable proof of what you
assert. It is a well-known fact that in recent times some philosophers
have practised this trick on the whole of the public with the most
brilliant success. But since present examples are odious, we may refer
to _The Vicar of Wakefield_ for an old one.
XXXVII.
Should your opponent be in the right, but, luckily for your
contention, choose a faulty proof, you can easily manage to refute it,
and then claim that you have thus refuted his whole position. This
is a trick which ought to be one of the first; it is, at bottom, an
expedient by which an _argumentum ad hominem_ is put forward as an
_argumentum ad rem_. If no accurate proof occurs to him or to the
bystanders, you have won the day. For example, if a man advances the
ontological argument by way of proving God's existence, you can get
the best of him, for the ontological argument may easily be refuted.
This is the way in which bad advocates lose a good case, by trying to
justify it by an authority which does not fit it, when no fitting one
occurs to them.
XXXVIII.
A last trick is to become personal, insulting, rude, as soon as you
perceive that your opponent has the upper hand, and that you are going
to come off worst. It consists in passing from the subject of dispute,
as from a lost game, to the disputant himself, and in some way
attacking his person. It may be called the _argumentum ad personam_,
to distinguish it from the _argumentum ad hominem_, which passes
from the objective discussion of the subject pure and simple to the
statements or admissions which your opponent has made in regard to it.
But in becoming personal you leave the subject altogether, and turn
your attack to his person, by remarks of an offensive and spiteful
character. It is an appeal from the virtues of the intellect to the
virtues of the body, or to mere animalism. This is a very popular
trick, because every one is able to carry it into effect; and so it
is of frequent application. Now the question is, What counter-trick
avails for the other party? for if he has recourse to the same rule,
there will be blows, or a duel, or an action for slander.
It would be a great mistake to suppose that it is sufficient not to
become personal yourself. For by showing a man quite quietly that he
is wrong, and that what he says and thinks is incorrect--a process
which occurs in every dialectical victory--you embitter him more than
if you used some rude or insulting expression. Why is this? Because,
as Hobbes observes,[1] all mental pleasure consists in being able to
compare oneself with others to one's own advantage. Nothing is of
greater moment to a man than the gratification of his vanity, and no
wound is more painful than that which is inflicted on it. Hence such
phrases as "Death before dishonour," and so on. The gratification of
vanity arises mainly by comparison of oneself with others, in every
respect, but chiefly in respect of one's intellectual powers; and so
the most effective and the strongest gratification of it is to be
found in controversy. Hence the embitterment of defeat, apart from any
question of injustice; and hence recourse to that last weapon,
that last trick, which you cannot evade by mere politeness. A cool
demeanour may, however, help you here, if, as soon as your opponent
becomes personal, you quietly reply, "That has no bearing on the point
in dispute," and immediately bring the conversation back to it, and
continue to show him that he is wrong, without taking any notice of
his insults. Say, as Themistocles said to Eurybiades--_Strike, but
hear me_. But such demeanour is not given to every one.
[Footnote 1: _Elementa philosophica de Cive_.]
As a sharpening of wits, controversy is often, indeed, of mutual
advantage, in order to correct one's thoughts and awaken new views.
But in learning and in mental power both disputants must be tolerably
equal. If one of them lacks learning, he will fail to understand the
other, as he is not on the same level with his antagonist. If he lacks
mental power, he will be embittered, and led into dishonest tricks,
and end by being rude.
The only safe rule, therefore, is that which Aristotle mentions in the
last chapter of his _Topica_: not to dispute with the first person you
meet, but only with those of your acquaintance of whom you know that
they possess sufficient intelligence and self-respect not to advance
absurdities; to appeal to reason and not to authority, and to listen
to reason and yield to it; and, finally, to cherish truth, to be
willing to accept reason even from an opponent, and to be just enough
to bear being proved to be in the wrong, should truth lie with him.
From this it follows that scarcely one man in a hundred is worth your
disputing with him. You may let the remainder say what they please,
for every one is at liberty to be a fool--_desipere est jus gentium_.
Remember what Voltaire says: _La paix vaut encore mieux que la
verite_. Remember also an Arabian proverb which tells us that _on the
tree of silence there hangs its fruit, which is peace_.