It’s been said that when an escaped convict wanted to divert hound dogs that were hot on his scent, he would drag a fish across his trail to distract them, leading them in a fruitless direction so he could evade capture.
Distractions like this happen repeatedly in conversations on weighty matters like public policy debates, but they’re especially evident in the kind of spiritual and ethical discussions you engage in as an ambassador for Christ. Be on the lookout for them.
The rhetorical ploy is generally referred to as a “red herring”—a fallacious maneuver intended to throw you “off the scent” in a discussion, leaving you bewildered and at a dead end in the debate.
I encounter versions of this nuisance all the time—and so do you, though you might not recognize how you’ve been tricked by the ruse. Ironically, even perpetrators of this foolishness don’t recognize their mistake because some red herrings are currently so common in public discussion they seem like solid comebacks. They’re not.
There are lots of ways befuddled thinkers do this, but three popular errors stand out. They’re formally called the ad hominem fallacy, the genetic fallacy, and the straw man fallacy. Don’t worry if the names aren’t familiar to you. You’ll recognize the blunders immediately when I describe them. They’re everywhere.
The ad hominem is the most frequent misstep, outpacing all others in current popularity. The Latin phrase literally means “to the person.” When an opponent deviates from the issue under discussion and instead attacks something about the person he disagrees with—his character, his motives, his education, his ethnicity, etc.—he’s fallen prey to this error.
All “hate” and “phobia” accusations fall into this category. When a person calls you hateful, intolerant, bigoted, racist, homophobic, transphobic, Islamophobic, hypocritical, et cetera, et cetera when contending for an opposing view, they’ve gotten completely off topic. The simple truth—and an obvious one, I would think—is that you cannot defeat an idea by attacking something else, like someone’s alleged character flaw. Yet it’s done all the time.
When this happens, you might ask, as I did once in a crossfire TV show, why the objector changed the subject. I pointed out that even if I admitted that my character was flawed in all the ways the panel had alleged, it had no bearing on whether my view was sound or not. They needed to deal with the latter issue, not the former one.
An ad hominem is nothing more than childish name-calling. Unfortunately, disparaging the person rather than addressing the issue is currently the most common way people in our culture deal with ideas they don’t like. An ad hominem is a distraction, though, a dodge, a red herring. Don’t fall for it.
The genetic fallacy, another popular dodge, involves faulting a view based on its source—its genesis. For example, some reject the Gospels out of hand because they were written by Christians. Yet, as C.S. Lewis has pointed out, first you have to show that a person is mistaken before it makes any sense to say why he’s mistaken. The historicity of the Gospels must be assessed on their own merits, not dismissed because of assumed bias.
“You’re a man!” is a common dismissal of a male’s case against abortion. Arguments, though, don’t have genders. This response is like brushing off objections to a husband beating his wife simply because the objector isn’t married to her. The rejoinder completely misses the point.
Or take this challenge I heard once from an atheist: “You’re a Christian because you were born in America. If you had been born in Iraq, you’d be a Muslim.” My response: “You’re probably right, but so what? This may be a helpful observation of anthropology, but it tells you nothing about the truth of any particular religion.” Ironically, if the atheist had been born in Iraq, he wouldn’t be an atheist. In neither case, though, is the observation relevant.
The “So what?” response is always appropriate when dealing with genetic fallacies. Here’s the key principle: The source of a point has no bearing on the soundness of the point. It doesn’t matter where an idea came from or how it originated. It only matters if the point is a good one on its merits, and that should be the focus.
The straw man fallacy is another dodge. Going fisticuffs with a real human being is challenging, but beating up a scarecrow is easy. That’s the strategy at work when someone offers a distorted version of your view—a straw man—then easily knocks it down. “Why does God hate gays?” or “Why should I go to Hell just because I don’t believe in God?” or “You care about the unborn, but not the mother” all fall into this category. None accurately describe our view.
A challenger may offer a brilliant refutation to a straw man version of your position, but he’s wasting his time by defeating a view you don’t hold. When that happens, simply point out the misunderstanding and carefully clarify your view.
Red herrings abound when weighty issues are at stake with people who have strong opinions they are deeply and emotionally committed to. Don’t be taken in by the distractions. Keep your nose to the ground and stay on the scent.
And be careful not to use these bad strategies yourself. Red herrings are not necessary when you have the truth—and that’s what Christians possess.