Читать книгу: «Your Mind and How to Use It: A Manual of Practical Psychology», страница 10

CHAPTER XXVIII
Fallacious Reasoning

A FALLACY is defined as "an unsound argument or mode of arguing which, while appearing to be decisive of a question, is in reality not so; or a fallacious statement or proposition in which the error is not readily apparent. When a fallacy is used to deceive others, it is called 'sophistry,'" It is important that the student should understand the nature of the fallacy and understand its most common forms. As Jevons says: "In learning how to do right it is always desirable to be informed as to the ways in which we are likely to go wrong. In describing to a man the road which he should follow, we ought to tell him not only the turnings which he is to take but also the turnings which he is to avoid. Similarly, it is a useful part of logic which teaches us the ways and turnings by which people most commonly go astray in reasoning."

In presenting the following brief statement regarding the more common forms of fallacy, we omit so far as possible the technical details which belong to text-books on logic.

Fallacies

I. True Collective but False Particular.– An example of this fallacy is found in the argument that because the French race, collectively, are excitable, therefore a particular Frenchman must be excitable. Or that because the Jewish race, collectively, are good business people, therefore the particular Jew must be a good business man. This is as fallacious as arguing that because a man may drown in the ocean he should avoid the bath, basin, or cup of water. There is a vast difference between the whole of a thing and its separate parts. Nitric acid and glycerin, separately, are not explosive, but, combined, they form nitro-glycerin, a most dangerous and powerful explosive. Reversing this form of illustration, we remind you of the old saying: "Salt is a good thing; but one doesn't want to be put in pickle."

II. Irrelevant Conclusion.– This fallacy consists in introducing in the conclusion matter not contained in the premises, or in the confusing of the issue. For instance: (1) All men are sinful; (2) John Smith is a man; therefore (3) John Smith is a horse thief. This may sound absurd, but many arguments are as fallacious as this, and for the same reason. Or another and more subtle form: (1) All thieves are liars; (2) John Smith is a liar; therefore (3) John Smith is a thief. The first example arises from the introduction of new matter, and the last from the confusion of the issue.

III. False Cause.– This fallacy consists in attributing cause to a thing which is merely coincident with, or precedent to, the effect. For instance: (1) The cock crows just before or at the moment of sunrise; therefore (2) the cock-crowing is the cause of the sunrise. Or, again: (1) Bad crops followed the election of a Whig president; therefore (2) the Whig party is the cause of the bad crops. Or, again: (1) Where civilization is the highest, there we find the greatest number of high hats; therefore (2) high hats are the cause of civilization.

IV. Circular Reasoning.– In this form of fallacy the person reasoning or arguing endeavors to explain or prove a thing by itself or its own terms. For instance: (1) The Whig party is honest because it advocates honest principles; (2) the Whig principles are honest because they are advocated by an honest party. A common form of this fallacy in its phase of sophistry is the use of synonyms in such a manner that they seem to express more than the original conception, whereas they are really but other terms for the same thing. An historic example of circular reasoning is the following: (1) The Church of England is the true Church, because it was established by God; (2) it must have been established by God, because it is the true Church. This form of sophistry is most effective when employed in long arguments in which it is difficult to detect it.

V. Begging the Question.– This fallacy arises from the use of a false premise, or at least of a premise the truth of which is not admitted by the opponent. It may be stated, simply, as "the unwarranted assumption of a premise, generally the major premise." Many persons in public life argue in this way. They boldly assert an unwarranted premise, and then proceed to argue logically from it. The result is confusing to the average person, for, the steps of the reasoning being logical, it seems as if the argument is sound, the fact of the unwarranted premise being overlooked. The person using this form of sophistry proceeds on Aaron Burr's theory of truth being "that which is boldly asserted and plausibly maintained."

Bulwer makes one of his characters mention a particularly atrocious form of this fallacy (although an amusing one) in the following words: "Whenever you are about to utter something astonishingly false, always begin with: 'It is an acknowledged fact,' etc. Sir Robert Filmer was a master of this manner of writing. Thus with what a solemn face that great man attempted to cheat. He would say: 'It is a truth undeniable that there cannot be any multitude of men whatsoever, either great or small, etc., but that in the same multitude there is one man among them that in nature hath a right to be King of all the rest – as being the next heir of Adam!'"

Look carefully for the major premise of propositions advanced in argument, spoken or written. Be sure that the person making the proposition is not "begging the question" by the unwarranted assumption of the premise.

General Rule of Inference

Hyslop says concerning valid inferences and fallacious ones: "We cannot infer anything we please from any premises we please. We must conform to certain definite rules or principles. Any violation of them will be a fallacy. There are two simple rules which should not be violated: (1) The subject-matter in the conclusion should be of the same general kind as in the premises; (2) the facts constituting the premises must be accepted and must not be fictitious." A close observance of these rules will result in the detection and avoidance of the principal forms of fallacious reasoning and sophistry.

Sophistical Arguments

There are a number of tricky practices resorted to by persons in argument, that are fallacious in intent and result, which we do not consider here in detail as they scarcely belong to the particular subject of this book. A brief mention, however, may be permitted in the interest of general information. Here are the principal ones: —

(1) Arguing that a proposition is correct because the opponent cannot prove the contrary. The fallacy is seen when we realize that the statement, "The moon is made of green cheese," is not proved because we cannot prove the contrary. No amount of failure to disprove a proposition really proves it; and no amount of failure to prove a proposition really disproves it. As a general rule, the burden of proof rests upon the person stating the proposition, and his opponent is not called upon to disprove it or else have it considered proved. The old cry of "You cannot prove that it is not so" is based upon a fallacious conception.

(2) Abuse of the opponent, his party, or his cause. This is no real argument or reasoning. It is akin to proving a point by beating the opponent over the head.

(3) Arguing that an opponent does not live up to his principles is no argument against the principles he advocates. A man may advocate the principle of temperance and yet drink to excess. This simply proves that he preaches better than he practices; but the truth of the principle of temperance is not affected in any way thereby. The proof of this is that he may change his practices; and it cannot be held that the change of his personal habits improves or changes the nature of the principle.

(4) Argument of authority is not based on logic. Authority is valuable when really worthy, and merely as corroboration or adding weight; but it is not logical argument. The reasons of the authority alone constitute a real argument. The abuse of this form of argument is shown, in the above reference to "begging the question," in the quotation from Bulwer.

(5) Appeal to prejudice or public opinion is not a valid argument, for public opinion is frequently wrong and prejudice is often unwarranted. And, at the best, they "have nothing to do with the case" from the standpoint of logic. The abuse of testimony and claimed evidence is also worthy of examination, but we cannot go into the subject here.

Fallacies of Prejudice

But perhaps the most dangerous of all fallacies in the search for truth on the part of the most of us are those which arise from the following: —

(1) The tendency to reason from what we feel and wish to be true, rather than from the actual facts of the case, which causes us unconsciously to assume the mental attitude of "if the facts agree with our likes and pet theories, all is well; if they do not, so much the worse for the facts."

(2) The tendency in all of us to perceive only the facts that agree with our theories and to ignore the others. We find that for which we seek, and overlook that which does not interest us. Our discoveries follow our interest, and our interest follows our desires and beliefs.

The intelligent man or woman realizes these tendencies of human nature and endeavors to avoid them in his or her own reasoning, but is keenly conscious of them in the arguments and reasoning of others. A failure to observe and guard one's self against these tendencies results in bigotry, intolerance, narrowness, and intellectual astigmatism.

CHAPTER XXIX
The Will

THE activities of the will comprise the third great class of mental processes. Psychologists always have differed greatly in their conception of just what constitutes these activities. Even to-day it is difficult to obtain a dictionary definition of the will that agrees with the best opinion on the subject. The dictionaries adhere to the old classification and conception which regarded the will as "that faculty of the mind or soul by which it chooses or decides." But with the growth of the idea that the will acts according to the strongest motive, and that the motive is supplied by the average struck between the desires of the moment, under the supervision of the intellect, the conception of will as the choosing and deciding faculty is passing from favor. In the place of the older conception has come the newer one which holds that the will is primarily concerned with action.

It is difficult to place the will in the category of mental processes. But it is generally agreed that it abides in the very center of the mental being, and is closely associated with what is called the ego, or self. The will seems to have at least three general phases, viz.: (1) The phase of desire, (2) the phase of deliberation or choice, and (3) the phase of expression in action. In order to understand the will, it is necessary to consider each of these three phases of its activities.

(1). Desire

The first phase of will, which is called "desire," is in itself somewhat complex. On its lower side it touches, and, in fact, blends into, feeling and emotion. Its center consists of a state of tension, akin to that of a coiled spring or a cat crouching ready for a spring. On its higher side it touches, penetrates, and blends into the other phases of the will which we have mentioned.

Desire is defined as "a feeling, emotion, or excitement of the mind directed toward the attainment, enjoyment, or possession of some object from which pleasure, profit, or gratification is expected." Halleck gives us the following excellent conception of the moving spirit of desire: "Desire has for its object something which will bring pleasure or get rid of pain, immediate or remote, for the individual or for some one in whom he is interested. Aversion, or a striving away from something, is merely the negative aspect of desire."

In Halleck's statement, above quoted, we have the explanation of the part played by the intellect in the activities of will. The intellect is able to perceive the relations between present action and future results, and is able to point the way toward the suppression of some desires in order that other and better ones may be manifested. It also serves its purposes in regulating the "striking of the average" between conflicting desires. Without the intervention of the intellect, the temporary desire of the moment would invariably be acted upon without regard to future results or consequences to one's self and others. It also serves to point out the course of action calculated to give the most satisfactory expression of the desire.

While it is a fact that the action of will depends almost entirely upon the motive force of desire, it is likewise true that desire may be created, regulated, suppressed, and even killed by the action of the will. The will, by giving or refusing attention to a certain class of desires, may either cause them to grow and wax strong, or else die and fade away. It must be remembered, however, that this use of the will itself springs from another set of desires or feelings.

Desire is aroused by feelings or emotions rising from the subconscious planes of the mind and seeking expression and manifestation. We have considered the nature of the feelings and emotions in previous chapters, which should be read in connection with the present one. It should be remembered that the feeling or emotional side of desire arises from either inherited race memories existing as instincts, or from the memory of the past experiences of the individual. In some cases the feeling first manifests in a vague unrest caused by subconscious promptings and excitement. Then the imagination pictures the object of the feeling, or certain memory images connected with it, and the desire thus manifests on the plane of consciousness.

The entrance of the desire feeling into consciousness is accompanied by that peculiar tension which marks the second phase of desire. This tension, when sufficiently strong, passes into the third phase of desire, or that in which desire blends into will action. Desire in this stage makes a demand upon will for expression and action. From mere feeling, and tension of feeling, it becomes a call to action. But before expression and action are given to it, the second phase of will must manifest at least for a moment; this second phase is that known as deliberation, or the weighing and balancing of desires.

(2). Deliberation

The second phase of will, known as deliberation, is more than the purely intellectual process which the term would indicate. The intellect plays an important part, it is true, but there is also an almost instinctive and automatic weighing and balancing of desires. There is seldom only one desire presenting its claims upon the will at any particular moment. It is true that occasionally there arises an emotional desire of such dominant power and strength that it crowds out every other claimant at the bar of deliberation. But such instances are rare, and as a rule there are a host of rival claimants, each insisting upon its rights in the matter at issue. In the man of weak or undeveloped and untrained intellect, the struggle is usually little more than a brief combat between several desires, in which the strongest at the moment wins. But with the development of intellect new factors arise and new forces are felt. Moreover, the more complex one's emotional nature, and the greater the development of the higher forms of feeling, the more intense is the struggle of deliberation or the fight of the desires.

We see, in Halleck's definition, that desire has not only the object of "bringing pleasure or getting rid of pain" for the individual, but that the additional element of the welfare of "some one in whom he is interested" is added, which element is often the deciding factor. This element, of course, arises from the development and cultivation of one's emotional nature. In the same way we also see that it is not merely the immediate welfare of one's self or those in whom one is interested that speaks before the bar, but also the more remote welfare. This consideration of future welfare depends upon the intellect and cultivated imagination under its control. Moreover, the trained intellect is able to discover possible greater satisfaction in some course of action other than in the one prompted by the clamoring desire of the moment. This explains why the judgment and action of an intelligent man, as a rule, are far different from those of the unintelligent one; and also why a man of culture tends toward different action from that of the uncultured; and likewise, why the man of broad sympathies and high ideals acts in a different way from one of the opposite type. But the principle is ever the same – the feelings manifest in desire, the greatest ultimate satisfaction apparent at the moment is sought, and the strongest set of desires wins the day.

Halleck's comment on this point is interesting. He says: "Desire is not always proportional to the idea of one's own selfish pleasure. Many persons, after forming an idea of the vast amount of earthly distress, desire to relieve it, and the desire goes out in action, as the benevolent societies in every city testify. Here the individual pleasure is none the less, but it is secondary, coming from the pleasure of others. The desire of the near often raises a stronger desire than the remote. A child frequently prefers a thing immediately if it is only one tenth as good as something he might have a year hence. A student often desires more the leisure of to-day than the success of future years. Though admonished to study, he wastes his time and thus loses incomparably greater future pleasure when he is tossed to the rear in the struggle for existence."

The result of this weighing and balancing of the desire is, or should be, decision and choice, which then passes into action. But many persons seem unable to "make up their own mind," and require a push or urge from without before they will act. Others decide, without proper use of the intellect, upon what they call "impulse," but which is merely impatience. Some are like the fabled donkey which starved to death when placed at an equal distance between two equally attractive haystacks and was unable to decide towards which to move. Others follow the example of Jeppe, in the comedy, who, when given a coin with which to buy a piece of soap for his wife, stood on the corner deliberating whether to obey orders or to buy a drink with the money. He wants the drink, but realizes that his wife will beat him if he returns without the soap. "My stomach says drink; my back says soap," says Jeppe. "But," finally he remarks, "is not a man's stomach more to him than his back? Yes, says I."

The final decision depends upon the striking a balance between the desires, – the weighing of desire for and desire against, – desire for this and desire for something else. The strength of the several desires depends upon nearness and present interest arising from attention, as applied to the feelings and emotions arising from heredity, environment, experience, and education, which constitute character; and also upon the degree of intellectual clearness and power in forming correct judgments between the desires.

It must be remembered, however, that the intellect appears not as an opponent of the principle of the satisfaction of desire, but merely as an instrument of the ego in determining which course of action will result in the greatest ultimate satisfaction, direct or indirect, present or future. For, at the last, every individual acts so as to bring himself the greatest satisfaction, immediate or future, direct or indirect, either personal or through the welfare of others, as this may appear to him at the particular moment of deliberation. We always act in the direction of that which will greater "content our spirit." This will be found to be the spirit of all decisions, although the motive is often hidden and difficult to find even by the individual himself, many of the strongest motives having their origin in the subconscious planes of mentality.

(3). Action

The third and final phase of will is that known as action – the act of volition by which the desire-idea is expressed in physical or mental activity. The old conception of the will held that the decisive phase of the will was its characteristic and final phase, ignoring the fact that the very essence or spirit of will is bound up with action. Even those familiar with the newer conception frequently assume that the act of decision is the final phase of will, ignoring the fact that we frequently decide to do a thing and yet may never carry out the intention and decision. The act of willing is not complete unless action is expressed. There must be the manifestation of the motor element or phase of will, else the will process is incomplete.

A weakness of this last phase of will affects the entire will and renders its processes ineffective. The world is filled with persons who are able to decide what is best to do, and what should be done, but who never actually act upon the decision. The few persons who promptly follow up the decision with vigorous action are those who accomplish the world's work. Without the full manifestation of this third phase of will the other two phases are useless.

Types of Will

So far we have considered merely the highest type of will – that which is accompanied by conscious deliberation, in which the intellect takes an active part. In this process, not only do the conflicting feelings push themselves forward with opposing claims for recognition, but the intellect is active in examining the case and offering valuable testimony as to the comparative merits of the various claimants and the effect of certain courses of action upon the individual. There are, however, several lower forms of will manifestation which we should briefly consider in passing.

Reflex Action.– The will is moved to action by the reflex activities of the nervous system which have been mentioned in the earlier chapters of this book. In this general type we find unconscious reflex action, such as that manifested when a sleeper is touched and moves away, or when the frog's leg twitches when the nerve end is excited. We also find conscious reflex action, such as that manifested by the winking of the eye, or the performance of habitual physical motion, such as the movement in walking, operating the sewing machine or typewriter, playing the piano, etc.

Impulsive Action.– The will is often moved to action by a dim idea or faint perception of purpose or impulse. The action is almost instinctive, although there is a vague perception of purpose. For instance, we feel an impulse to turn toward the source of a strange sound or sight, or other source of interest or curiosity. Or we may feel an impulse arising from the subconscious plane of our mind, causing a dimly-conscious idea of movement or action to relieve the tension. For instance, one may feel a desire to exercise, or to seek fresh air or green fields, although he had not been thinking of these things at the time. These impulses arise from a subconscious feeling of fatigue or desire for change, which, added to a fleeting idea, produces the impulse. Unless an impulse is inhibited by the will activities inspired by other desires, habits, ideas, or ideals, we act upon it in precisely the same way that a young child or animal does. Hoffding says of this type of action: "The psychological condition of the impulse is, that with the momentary feeling and sensation should be combined a more or less clear idea of something which may augment the pleasure or diminish the pain of the moment."

Instinctive Action.– The will is frequently moved to action by an instinctive stimulus. This form of will activity closely resembles the last mentioned form, and often it is impossible to distinguish between the two. The activities of the bee in building its comb and storing its honey, the work of the silkworm and caterpillar in building their resting places, are examples of this form of action. Indeed, even the building of the nest of the bird may be so classed. In these cases there is an intelligent action toward a definite end, but the animal is unconscious of that end. The experiences of the remote ancestors of these creatures recorded their impressions upon the subconscious mind of the species, and they are transmitted in some way to all of that species. The nervous system of every living thing is a record cylinder of the experiences of its early ancestors, and these cylinders tend to reproduce these impressions upon appropriate occasions. In preceding chapters we have shown that even man is under the influence of instinct to a greater extent than he imagines himself to be.