What is a Logical Fallacy?

Logical fallacies can be translated as, “I am bad at arguing.” A fallacy is a form of flawed reasoning. As we all (don’t) know, the human being is from birth an emotional creature. We reason through how we feel. IF we use a hideous amount of concentration over a long period of time, we may, occasionally, stumble upon logic. Without this concentration and training, we are honestly quite hopeless.

One of the most facepalm-inducing forms which our emotional reasoning takes is the conviction most of us hold that our nature is in fact the opposite. Ask anyone: they will not admit to you that they emotionally driven. They will tell you, “I make reasoned, analyzed, coherent decisions!” If pressed, and if you manage by some miracle to avoid offence, they might concede that there have been times that they have spoken or acted without thinking.

We are not computers. We are the other thing.

I need to clarify that I’m not using the common use of the word argument. I mean a philosophical discussion. In a philosophical discussion, each participant tries their hardest to avoid using logical fallacies. Each piece of what they say has to hold up under a microscope. Anyone can learn to do this, and it makes conversation meaningful. While we will never be computers, we can easily do better.

Today’s Fallacy

One of the most common fallacious arguments is an appeal to tradition. “Because we’ve always done it this way!” Unless the conversation concerns an actual tradition, this argument is almost never useful. This is not to say that whoever is saying this does not have good reasons. Maybe they’re right; maybe the side they’re taking is legitimately the best one. Perhaps they’re arguing for contract transparency in a sales situation. There are plenty of great reasons to be transparent, and to help the customer fully understand what they’re signing.

Appealing to tradition weakens those good reasons by virtue of association.

Perhaps you are building a house, and your client wants to know why you are using a particular framing style. The answer is that it is structurally solid, uses the fewest materials possible while remaining well within safety limits, meets the local code, etc. (I’m not an engineer, I don’t know). Perhaps you don’t know any of those reasons. All you can think to respond with is that this is how you were taught to do it, and this is how you’ve always done it, and in fact, you don’t know any other way.

You’re still right, but you are not arguing well.

When I am explaining this in conversation (I am not good at parties), the next question/accusation is, “If I’m right, then what does it matter?” The answer is that we can do both. We can be right, and we can argue it well. It is worth the effort to find the correct reasons, and it is worth it to change our views if we find a flaw in ourselves.

If I can be right, and solidly persuasive, why would I not do that?

[Final note: this argument can also take the form of, “Because this is the latest, newest thing.” This inverse form is also not legitimate in most contexts.]

About the Author: Gordon Edgar

I am a multidisciplinary learner who has been working on content writing, editing, and website building for W.D. Edgar & Associates for quite a few years now. I have a Bachelor's in English, with a minor in Psychology and many additional credits invested into Philosophy. My personal interests are in abstract methods of thinking. I read moral philosophy, psychology, interpersonal strategies, game theory, behavioral economics, etc. My blog posts explore these abstractions.