Aristotle
384-322 B.C.E. - Wrote in Greek
On Sophistical Refutations
Written 350 B.C.E
Translated by W. A. Pickard-Cambridge
On Sophistical Refutations
By Aristotle
Section 1
Part 1
Let us now discuss sophistic refutations, i.e. what appear to be refutations
but are really fallacies instead. We will begin in the natural order with
the first.
That some reasonings are genuine, while others seem to be so but
are not, is evident. This happens with arguments, as also elsewhere, through
a certain likeness between the genuine and the sham. For physically some
people are in a vigorous condition, while others merely seem to be so by
blowing and rigging themselves out as the tribesmen do their victims for
sacrifice; and some people are beautiful thanks to their beauty, while
others seem to be so, by dint of embellishing themselves. So it is, too,
with inanimate things; for of these, too, some are really silver and others
gold, while others are not and merely seem to be such to our sense; e.g.
things made of litharge and tin seem to be of silver, while those made
of yellow metal look golden. In the same way both reasoning and refutation
are sometimes genuine, sometimes not, though inexperience may make them
appear so: for inexperienced people obtain only, as it were, a distant
view of these things. For reasoning rests on certain statements such that
they involve necessarily the assertion of something other than what has
been stated, through what has been stated: refutation is reasoning involving
the contradictory of the given conclusion. Now some of them do not really
achieve this, though they seem to do so for a number of reasons; and of
these the most prolific and usual domain is the argument that turns upon
names only. It is impossible in a discussion to bring in the actual things
discussed: we use their names as symbols instead of them; and therefore
we suppose that what follows in the names, follows in the things as well,
just as people who calculate suppose in regard to their counters. But the
two cases (names and things) are not alike. For names are finite and so
is the sum-total of formulae, while things are infinite in number. Inevitably,
then, the same formulae, and a single name, have a number of meanings.
Accordingly just as, in counting, those who are not clever in manipulating
their counters are taken in by the experts, in the same way in arguments
too those who are not well acquainted with the force of names misreason
both in their own discussions and when they listen to others. For this
reason, then, and for others to be mentioned later, there exists both reasoning
and refutation that is apparent but not real. Now for some people it is
better worth while to seem to be wise, than to be wise without seeming
to be (for the art of the sophist is the semblance of wisdom without the
reality, and the sophist is one who makes money from an apparent but unreal
wisdom); for them, then, it is clearly essential also to seem to accomplish
the task of a wise man rather than to accomplish it without seeming to
do so. To reduce it to a single point of contrast it is the business of
one who knows a thing, himself to avoid fallacies in the subjects which
he knows and to be able to show up the man who makes them; and of these
accomplishments the one depends on the faculty to render an answer, and
the other upon the securing of one. Those, then, who would be sophists
are bound to study the class of arguments aforesaid: for it is worth their
while: for a faculty of this kind will make a man seem to be wise, and
this is the purpose they happen to have in view.
Clearly, then, there exists a class of arguments of this kind,
and it is at this kind of ability that those aim whom we call sophists.
Let us now go on to discuss how many kinds there are of sophistical arguments,
and how many in number are the elements of which this faculty is composed,
and how many branches there happen to be of this inquiry, and the other
factors that contribute to this art.
Part 2
Of arguments in dialogue form there are four
classes:
Didactic, Dialectical, Examination-arguments, and Contentious arguments.
Didactic arguments are those that reason from the principles appropriate
to each subject and not from the opinions held by the answerer (for the
learner should take things on trust): dialectical arguments are those that
reason from premisses generally accepted, to the contradictory of a given
thesis: examination-arguments are those that reason from premisses which
are accepted by the answerer and which any one who pretends to possess
knowledge of the subject is bound to know-in what manner, has been defined
in another treatise: contentious arguments are those that reason or appear
to reason to a conclusion from premisses that appear to be generally accepted
but are not so. The subject, then, of demonstrative arguments has been
discussed in the Analytics, while that of dialectic arguments and examination-arguments
has been discussed elsewhere: let us now proceed to speak of the arguments
used in competitions and contests.
Part 3
First we must grasp the number of aims entertained by those who
argue as competitors and rivals to the death. These are five in number,
refutation, fallacy, paradox, solecism, and fifthly to reduce the opponent
in the discussion to babbling-i.e. to constrain him to repeat himself a
number of times: or it is to produce the appearance of each of these things
without the reality. For they choose if possible plainly to refute the
other party, or as the second best to show that he is committing some fallacy,
or as a third best to lead him into paradox, or fourthly to reduce him
to solecism, i.e. to make the answerer, in consequence of the argument,
to use an ungrammatical expression; or, as a last resort, to make him repeat
himself.
Part 4
There are two styles of refutation: for some depend on the language
used, while some are independent of language. Those ways of producing the
false appearance of an argument which depend on language are six in number:
they are ambiguity, amphiboly, combination, division of words, accent,
form of expression. Of this we may assure ourselves both by induction,
and by syllogistic proof based on this-and it may be on other assumptions
as well-that this is the number of ways in which we might fall to mean
the same thing by the same names or expressions. Arguments such as the
following depend upon ambiguity. 'Those learn who know: for it is those
who know their letters who learn the letters dictated to them'. For to
'learn' is ambiguous; it signifies both 'to understand' by the use of knowledge,
and also 'to acquire knowledge'. Again, 'Evils are good: for what needs
to be is good, and evils must needs be'. For 'what needs to be' has a double
meaning: it means what is inevitable, as often is the case with evils,
too (for evil of some kind is inevitable), while on the other hand we say
of good things as well that they 'need to be'. Moreover, 'The same man
is both seated and standing and he is both sick and in health: for it is
he who stood up who is standing, and he who is recovering who is in health:
but it is the seated man who stood up, and the sick man who was recovering'.
For 'The sick man does so and so', or 'has so and so done to him' is not
single in meaning: sometimes it means 'the man who is sick or is seated
now', sometimes 'the man who was sick formerly'. Of course, the man who
was recovering was the sick man, who really was sick at the time: but the
man who is in health is not sick at the same time: he is 'the sick man'
in the sense not that he is sick now, but that he was sick formerly. Examples
such as the following depend upon amphiboly: 'I wish that you the enemy
may capture'. Also the thesis, 'There must be knowledge of what one knows':
for it is possible by this phrase to mean that knowledge belongs to both
the knower and the known. Also, 'There must be sight of what one sees:
one sees the pillar: ergo the pillar has sight'. Also, 'What you profess
to-be, that you profess to-be: you profess a stone to-be: ergo you profess-to-be
a stone'. Also, 'Speaking of the silent is possible': for 'speaking of
the silent' also has a double meaning: it may mean that the speaker is
silent or that the things of which he speaks are so. There are three varieties
of these ambiguities and amphibolies: (1) When either the expression or
the name has strictly more than one meaning, e.g. aetos and the 'dog';
(2) when by custom we use them so; (3) when words that have a simple sense
taken alone have more than one meaning in combination; e.g. 'knowing letters'.
For each word, both 'knowing' and 'letters', possibly has a single meaning:
but both together have more than one-either that the letters themselves
have knowledge or that someone else has it of them.
Amphiboly and ambiguity, then, depend on these modes of speech.
Upon the combination of words there depend instances such as the following:
'A man can walk while sitting, and can write while not writing'. For the
meaning is not the same if one divides the words and if one combines them
in saying that 'it is possible to walk-while-sitting' and write while not
writing]. The same applies to the latter phrase, too, if one combines the
words 'to write-while-not-writing': for then it means that he has the power
to write and not to write at once; whereas if one does not combine them,
it means that when he is not writing he has the power to write. Also, 'He
now if he has learnt his letters'. Moreover, there is the saying that 'One
single thing if you can carry a crowd you can carry
too'.
Upon division depend the propositions that 5 is 2 and 3, and odd,
and that the greater is equal: for it is that amount and more besides.
For the same phrase would not be thought always to have the same meaning
when divided and when combined, e.g. 'I made thee a slave once a free man',
and 'God-like Achilles left fifty a hundred men'.
An argument depending upon accent it is not easy to construct in
unwritten discussion; in written discussions and in poetry it is easier.
Thus (e.g.) some people emend Homer against those who criticize as unnatural
his expression to men ou kataputhetai ombro. For they solve the difficulty
by a change of accent, pronouncing the ou with an acuter accent. Also,
in the passage about Agamemnon's dream, they say that Zeus did not himself
say 'We grant him the fulfilment of his prayer', but that he bade the dream
grant it. Instances such as these, then, turn upon the
accentuation.
Others come about owing to the form of expression used, when what
is really different is expressed in the same form, e.g. a masculine thing
by a feminine termination, or a feminine thing by a masculine, or a neuter
by either a masculine or a feminine; or, again, when a quality is expressed
by a termination proper to quantity or vice versa, or what is active by
a passive word, or a state by an active word, and so forth with the other
divisions previously' laid down. For it is possible to use an expression
to denote what does not belong to the class of actions at all as though
it did so belong. Thus (e.g.) 'flourishing' is a word which in the form
of its expression is like 'cutting' or 'building': yet the one denotes
a certain quality-i.e. a certain condition-while the other denotes a certain
action. In the same manner also in the other instances.
Refutations, then, that depend upon language are drawn from these
common-place rules. Of fallacies, on the other hand, that are independent
of language there are seven kinds:
(1) that which depends upon Accident:
(2) the use of an expression absolutely or not absolutely but with
some qualification of respect or place, or time, or
relation:
(3) that which depends upon ignorance of what 'refutation'
is:
(4) that which depends upon the consequent:
(5) that which depends upon assuming the original
conclusion:
(6) stating as cause what is not the cause:
(7) the making of more than one question into one.
Part 5
Fallacies, then, that depend on Accident occur whenever any attribute
is claimed to belong in like manner to a thing and to its accident. For
since the same thing has many accidents there is no necessity that all
the same attributes should belong to all of a thing's predicates and to
their subject as well. Thus (e.g.), 'If Coriscus be different from "man",
he is different from himself: for he is a man': or 'If he be different
from Socrates, and Socrates be a man, then', they say, 'he has admitted
that Coriscus is different from a man, because it so happens (accidit)
that the person from whom he said that he (Coriscus) is different is a
man'.
Those that depend on whether an expression is used absolutely or
in a certain respect and not strictly, occur whenever an expression used
in a particular sense is taken as though it were used absolutely, e.g.
in the argument 'If what is not is the object of an opinion, then what
is not is': for it is not the same thing 'to be x' and 'to be' absolutely.
Or again, 'What is, is not, if it is not a particular kind of being, e.g.
if it is not a man.' For it is not the same thing 'not to be x' and 'not
to be' at all: it looks as if it were, because of the closeness of the
expression, i.e. because 'to be x' is but little different from 'to be',
and 'not to be x' from 'not to be'. Likewise also with any argument that
turns upon the point whether an expression is used in a certain respect
or used absolutely. Thus e.g. 'Suppose an Indian to be black all over,
but white in respect of his teeth; then he is both white and not white.'
Or if both characters belong in a particular respect, then, they say, 'contrary
attributes belong at the same time'. This kind of thing is in some cases
easily seen by any one, e.g. suppose a man were to secure the statement
that the Ethiopian is black, and were then to ask whether he is white in
respect of his teeth; and then, if he be white in that respect, were to
suppose at the conclusion of his questions that therefore he had proved
dialectically that he was both white and not white. But in some cases it
often passes undetected, viz. in all cases where, whenever a statement
is made of something in a certain respect, it would be generally thought
that the absolute statement follows as well; and also in all cases where
it is not easy to see which of the attributes ought to be rendered strictly.
A situation of this kind arises, where both the opposite attributes belong
alike: for then there is general support for the view that one must agree
absolutely to the assertion of both, or of neither: e.g. if a thing is
half white and half black, is it white or black?
Other fallacies occur because the terms 'proof' or 'refutation'
have not been defined, and because something is left out in their definition.
For to refute is to contradict one and the same attribute-not merely the
name, but the reality-and a name that is not merely synonymous but the
same name-and to confute it from the propositions granted, necessarily,
without including in the reckoning the original point to be proved, in
the same respect and relation and manner and time in which it was asserted.
A 'false assertion' about anything has to be defined in the same way. Some
people, however, omit some one of the said conditions and give a merely
apparent refutation, showing (e.g.) that the same thing is both double
and not double: for two is double of one, but not double of three. Or,
it may be, they show that it is both double and not double of the same
thing, but not that it is so in the same respect: for it is double in length
but not double in breadth. Or, it may be, they show it to be both double
and not double of the same thing and in the same respect and manner, but
not that it is so at the same time: and therefore their refutation is merely
apparent. One might, with some violence, bring this fallacy into the group
of fallacies dependent on language as well.
Those that depend on the assumption of the original point to be
proved, occur in the same way, and in as many ways, as it is possible to
beg the original point; they appear to refute because men lack the power
to keep their eyes at once upon what is the same and what is
different.
The refutation which depends upon the consequent arises because
people suppose that the relation of consequence is convertible. For whenever,
suppose A is, B necessarily is, they then suppose also that if B is, A
necessarily is. This is also the source of the deceptions that attend opinions
based on sense-perception. For people often suppose bile to be honey because
honey is attended by a yellow colour: also, since after rain the ground
is wet in consequence, we suppose that if the ground is wet, it has been
raining; whereas that does not necessarily follow. In rhetoric proofs from
signs are based on consequences. For when rhetoricians wish to show that
a man is an adulterer, they take hold of some consequence of an adulterous
life, viz. that the man is smartly dressed, or that he is observed to wander
about at night. There are, however, many people of whom these things are
true, while the charge in question is untrue. It happens like this also
in real reasoning; e.g. Melissus' argument, that the universe is eternal,
assumes that the universe has not come to be (for from what is not nothing
could possibly come to be) and that what has come to be has done so from
a first beginning. If, therefore, the universe has not come to be, it has
no first beginning, and is therefore eternal. But this does not necessarily
follow: for even if what has come to be always has a first beginning, it
does not also follow that what has a first beginning has come to be; any
more than it follows that if a man in a fever be hot, a man who is hot
must be in a fever.
The refutation which depends upon treating as cause what is not
a cause, occurs whenever what is not a cause is inserted in the argument,
as though the refutation depended upon it. This kind of thing happens in
arguments that reason ad impossible: for in these we are bound to demolish
one of the premisses. If, then, the false cause be reckoned in among the
questions that are necessary to establish the resulting impossibility,
it will often be thought that the refutation depends upon it, e.g. in the
proof that the 'soul' and 'life' are not the same: for if coming-to-be
be contrary to perishing, then a particular form of perishing will have
a particular form of coming-to-be as its contrary: now death is a particular
form of perishing and is contrary to life: life, therefore, is a coming
to-be, and to live is to come-to-be. But this is impossible: accordingly,
the 'soul' and 'life' are not the same. Now this is not proved: for the
impossibility results all the same, even if one does not say that life
is the same as the soul, but merely says that life is contrary to death,
which is a form of perishing, and that perishing has 'coming-to-be' as
its contrary. Arguments of that kind, then, though not inconclusive absolutely,
are inconclusive in relation to the proposed conclusion. Also even the
questioners themselves often fail quite as much to see a point of that
kind.
Such, then, are the arguments that depend upon the consequent and
upon false cause. Those that depend upon the making of two questions into
one occur whenever the plurality is undetected and a single answer is returned
as if to a single question. Now, in some cases, it is easy to see that
there is more than one, and that an answer is not to be given, e.g. 'Does
the earth consist of sea, or the sky?' But in some cases it is less easy,
and then people treat the question as one, and either confess their defeat
by failing to answer the question, or are exposed to an apparent refutation.
Thus 'Is A and is B a man?' 'Yes.' 'Then if any one hits A and B, he will
strike a man' (singular),'not men' (plural). Or again, where part is good
and part bad, 'is the whole good or bad?' For whichever he says, it is
possible that he might be thought to expose himself to an apparent refutation
or to make an apparently false statement: for to say that something is
good which is not good, or not good which is good, is to make a false statement.
Sometimes, however, additional premisses may actually give rise to a genuine
refutation; e.g. suppose a man were to grant that the descriptions 'white'
and 'naked' and 'blind' apply to one thing and to a number of things in
a like sense. For if 'blind' describes a thing that cannot see though nature
designed it to see, it will also describe things that cannot see though
nature designed them to do so. Whenever, then, one thing can see while
another cannot, they will either both be able to see or else both be blind;
which is impossible.
Part 6
The right way, then, is either to divide apparent proofs and refutations
as above, or else to refer them all to ignorance of what 'refutation' is,
and make that our starting-point: for it is possible to analyse all the
aforesaid modes of fallacy into breaches of the definition of a refutation.
In the first place, we may see if they are inconclusive: for the conclusion
ought to result from the premisses laid down, so as to compel us necessarily
to state it and not merely to seem to compel us. Next we should also take
the definition bit by bit, and try the fallacy thereby. For of the fallacies
that consist in language, some depend upon a double meaning, e.g. ambiguity
of words and of phrases, and the fallacy of like verbal forms (for we habitually
speak of everything as though it were a particular substance)-while fallacies
of combination and division and accent arise because the phrase in question
or the term as altered is not the same as was intended. Even this, however,
should be the same, just as the thing signified should be as well, if a
refutation or proof is to be effected; e.g. if the point concerns a doublet,
then you should draw the conclusion of a 'doublet', not of a 'cloak'. For
the former conclusion also would be true, but it has not been proved; we
need a further question to show that 'doublet' means the same thing, in
order to satisfy any one who asks why you think your point
proved.
Fallacies that depend on Accident are clear cases of ignoratio
elenchi when once 'proof' has been defined. For the same definition ought
to hold good of 'refutation' too, except that a mention of 'the contradictory'
is here added: for a refutation is a proof of the contradictory. If, then,
there is no proof as regards an accident of anything, there is no refutation.
For supposing, when A and B are, C must necessarily be, and C is white,
there is no necessity for it to be white on account of the syllogism. So,
if the triangle has its angles equal to two right-angles, and it happens
to be a figure, or the simplest element or starting point, it is not because
it is a figure or a starting point or simplest element that it has this
character. For the demonstration proves the point about it not qua figure
or qua simplest element, but qua triangle. Likewise also in other cases.
If, then, refutation is a proof, an argument which argued per accidens
could not be a refutation. It is, however, just in this that the experts
and men of science generally suffer refutation at the hand of the unscientific:
for the latter meet the scientists with reasonings constituted per accidens;
and the scientists for lack of the power to draw distinctions either say
'Yes' to their questions, or else people suppose them to have said 'Yes',
although they have not.
Those that depend upon whether something is said in a certain respect
only or said absolutely, are clear cases of ignoratio elenchi because the
affirmation and the denial are not concerned with the same point. For of
'white in a certain respect' the negation is 'not white in a certain respect',
while of 'white absolutely' it is 'not white, absolutely'. If, then, a
man treats the admission that a thing is 'white in a certain respect' as
though it were said to be white absolutely, he does not effect a refutation,
but merely appears to do so owing to ignorance of what refutation
is.
The clearest cases of all, however, are those that were previously
described' as depending upon the definition of a 'refutation': and this
is also why they were called by that name. For the appearance of a refutation
is produced because of the omission in the definition, and if we divide
fallacies in the above manner, we ought to set 'Defective definition' as
a common mark upon them all.
Those that depend upon the assumption of the original point and
upon stating as the cause what is not the cause, are clearly shown to be
cases of ignoratio elenchi through the definition thereof. For the conclusion
ought to come about 'because these things are so', and this does not happen
where the premisses are not causes of it: and again it should come about
without taking into account the original point, and this is not the case
with those arguments which depend upon begging the original
point.
Those that depend upon the assumption of the original point and
upon stating as the cause what is not the cause, are clearly shown to be
cases of ignoratio elenchi through the definition thereof. For the conclusion
ought to come about 'because these things are so', and this does not happen
where the premisses are not causes of it: and again it should come about
without taking into account the original point, and this is not the case
with those arguments which depend upon begging the original
point.
Those that depend upon the consequent are a branch of Accident:
for the consequent is an accident, only it differs from the accident in
this, that you may secure an admission of the accident in the case of one
thing only (e.g. the identity of a yellow thing and honey and of a white
thing and swan), whereas the consequent always involves more than one thing:
for we claim that things that are the same as one and the same thing are
also the same as one another, and this is the ground of a refutation dependent
on the consequent. It is, however, not always true, e.g. suppose that and
B are the same as C per accidens; for both 'snow' and the 'swan' are the
same as something white'. Or again, as in Melissus' argument, a man assumes
that to 'have been generated' and to 'have a beginning' are the same thing,
or to 'become equal' and to 'assume the same magnitude'. For because what
has been generated has a beginning, he claims also that what has a beginning
has been generated, and argues as though both what has been generated and
what is finite were the same because each has a beginning. Likewise also
in the case of things that are made equal he assumes that if things that
assume one and the same magnitude become equal, then also things that become
equal assume one magnitude: i.e. he assumes the consequent. Inasmuch, then,
as a refutation depending on accident consists in ignorance of what a refutation
is, clearly so also does a refutation depending on the consequent. We shall
have further to examine this in another way as well.
Those fallacies that depend upon the making of several questions
into one consist in our failure to dissect the definition of 'proposition'.
For a proposition is a single statement about a single thing. For the same
definition applies to 'one single thing only' and to the 'thing', simply,
e.g. to 'man' and to 'one single man only' and likewise also in other cases.
If, then, a 'single proposition' be one which claims a single thing of
a single thing, a 'proposition', simply, will also be the putting of a
question of that kind. Now since a proof starts from propositions and refutation
is a proof, refutation, too, will start from propositions. If, then, a
proposition is a single statement about a single thing, it is obvious that
this fallacy too consists in ignorance of what a refutation is: for in
it what is not a proposition appears to be one. If, then, the answerer
has returned an answer as though to a single question, there will be a
refutation; while if he has returned one not really but apparently, there
will be an apparent refutation of his thesis. All the types of fallacy,
then, fall under ignorance of what a refutation is, some of them because
the contradiction, which is the distinctive mark of a refutation, is merely
apparent, and the rest failing to conform to the definition of a
proof.
Part 7
The deception comes about in the case of arguments that depend
on ambiguity of words and of phrases because we are unable to divide the
ambiguous term (for some terms it is not easy to divide, e.g. 'unity',
'being', and 'sameness'), while in those that depend on combination and
division, it is because we suppose that it makes no difference whether
the phrase be combined or divided, as is indeed the case with most phrases.
Likewise also with those that depend on accent: for the lowering or raising
of the voice upon a phrase is thought not to alter its meaning-with any
phrase, or not with many. With those that depend on the of expression it
is because of the likeness of expression. For it is hard to distinguish
what kind of things are signified by the same and what by different kinds
of expression: for a man who can do this is practically next door to the
understanding of the truth. A special reason why a man is liable to be
hurried into assent to the fallacy is that we suppose every predicate of
everything to be an individual thing, and we understand it as being one
with the thing: and we therefore treat it as a substance: for it is to
that which is one with a thing or substance, as also to substance itself,
that 'individually' and 'being' are deemed to belong in the fullest sense.
For this reason, too, this type of fallacy is to be ranked among those
that depend on language; in the first place, because the deception is effected
the more readily when we are inquiring into a problem in company with others
than when we do so by ourselves (for an inquiry with another person is
carried on by means of speech, whereas an inquiry by oneself is carried
on quite as much by means of the object itself); secondly a man is liable
to be deceived, even when inquiring by himself, when he takes speech as
the basis of his inquiry: moreover the deception arises out of the likeness
(of two different things), and the likeness arises out of the language.
With those fallacies that depend upon Accident, deception comes about because
we cannot distinguish the sameness and otherness of terms, i.e. their unity
and multiplicity, or what kinds of predicate have all the same accidents
as their subject. Likewise also with those that depend on the Consequent:
for the consequent is a branch of Accident. Moreover, in many cases appearances
point to this-and the claim is made that if is inseparable from B, so also
is B from With those that depend upon an imperfection in the definition
of a refutation, and with those that depend upon the difference between
a qualified and an absolute statement, the deception consists in the smallness
of the difference involved; for we treat the limitation to the particular
thing or respect or manner or time as adding nothing to the meaning, and
so grant the statement universally. Likewise also in the case of those
that assume the original point, and those of false cause, and all that
treat a number of questions as one: for in all of them the deception lies
in the smallness of the difference: for our failure to be quite exact in
our definition of 'premiss' and of 'proof' is due to the aforesaid
reason.
Part 8
Since we know on how many points apparent syllogisms depend, we
know also on how many sophistical syllogisms and refutations may depend.
By a sophistical refutation and syllogism I mean not only a syllogism or
refutation which appears to be valid but is not, but also one which, though
it is valid, only appears to be appropriate to the thing in question. These
are those which fail to refute and prove people to be ignorant according
to the nature of the thing in question, which was the function of the art
of examination. Now the art of examining is a branch of dialectic: and
this may prove a false conclusion because of the ignorance of the answerer.
Sophistic refutations on the other hand, even though they prove the contradictory
of his thesis, do not make clear whether he is ignorant: for sophists entangle
the scientist as well with these arguments.
That we know them by the same line of inquiry is clear: for the
same considerations which make it appear to an audience that the points
required for the proof were asked in the questions and that the conclusion
was proved, would make the answerer think so as well, so that false proof
will occur through all or some of these means: for what a man has not been
asked but thinks he has granted, he would also grant if he were asked.
Of course, in some cases the moment we add the missing question, we also
show up its falsity, e.g. in fallacies that depend on language and on solecism.
If then, fallacious proofs of the contradictory of a thesis depend on their
appearing to refute, it is clear that the considerations on which both
proofs of false conclusions and an apparent refutation depend must be the
same in number. Now an apparent refutation depends upon the elements involved
in a genuine one: for the failure of one or other of these must make the
refutation merely apparent, e.g. that which depends on the failure of the
conclusion to follow from the argument (the argument ad impossible) and
that which treats two questions as one and so depends upon a flaw in the
premiss, and that which depends on the substitution of an accident for
an essential attribute, and-a branch of the last-that which depends upon
the consequent: more over, the conclusion may follow not in fact but only
verbally: then, instead of proving the contradictory universally and in
the same respect and relation and manner, the fallacy may be dependent
on some limit of extent or on one or other of these qualifications: moreover,
there is the assumption of the original point to be proved, in violation
of the clause 'without reckoning in the original point'. Thus we should
have the number of considerations on which the fallacious proofs depend:
for they could not depend on more, but all will depend on the points
aforesaid.
A sophistical refutation is a refutation not absolutely but relatively
to some one: and so is a proof, in the same way. For unless that which
depends upon ambiguity assumes that the ambiguous term has a single meaning,
and that which depends on like verbal forms assumes that substance is the
only category, and the rest in the same way, there will be neither refutations
nor proofs, either absolutely or relatively to the answerer: whereas if
they do assume these things, they will stand, relatively to the answerer;
but absolutely they will not stand: for they have not secured a statement
that does have a single meaning, but only one that appears to have, and
that only from this particular man.
Part 9
The number of considerations on which depend the refutations of
those who are refuted, we ought not to try to grasp without a knowledge
of everything that is. This, however, is not the province of any special
study: for possibly the sciences are infinite in number, so that obviously
demonstrations may be infinite too. Now refutations may be true as well
as false: for whenever it is possible to demonstrate something, it is also
possible to refute the man who maintains the contradictory of the truth;
e.g. if a man has stated that the diagonal is commensurate with the side
of the square, one might refute him by demonstrating that it is incommensurate.
Accordingly, to exhaust all possible refutations we shall have to have
scientific knowledge of everything: for some refutations depend upon the
principles that rule in geometry and the conclusions that follow from these,
others upon those that rule in medicine, and others upon those of the other
sciences. For the matter of that, the false refutations likewise belong
to the number of the infinite: for according to every art there is false
proof, e.g. according to geometry there is false geometrical proof, and
according to medicine there is false medical proof. By 'according to the
art', I mean 'according to the principles of it'. Clearly, then, it is
not of all refutations, but only of those that depend upon dialectic that
we need to grasp the common-place rules: for these stand in a common relation
to every art and faculty. And as regards the refutation that is according
to one or other of the particular sciences it is the task of that particular
scientist to examine whether it is merely apparent without being real,
and, if it be real, what is the reason for it: whereas it is the business
of dialecticians so to examine the refutation that proceeds from the common
first principles that fall under no particular special study. For if we
grasp the startingpoints of the accepted proofs on any subject whatever
we grasp those of the refutations current on that subject. For a refutation
is the proof of the contradictory of a given thesis, so that either one
or two proofs of the contradictory constitute a refutation. We grasp, then,
the number of considerations on which all such depend: if, however, we
grasp this, we also grasp their solutions as well; for the objections to
these are the solutions of them. We also grasp the number of considerations
on which those refutations depend, that are merely apparent-apparent, I
mean, not to everybody, but to people of a certain stamp; for it is an
indefinite task if one is to inquire how many are the considerations that
make them apparent to the man in the street. Accordingly it is clear that
the dialectician's business is to be able to grasp on how many considerations
depends the formation, through the common first principles, of a refutation
that is either real or apparent, i.e. either dialectical or apparently
dialectical, or suitable for an examination.
Part 10
It is no true distinction between arguments which some people draw
when they say that some arguments are directed against the expression,
and others against the thought expressed: for it is absurd to suppose that
some arguments are directed against the expression and others against the
thought, and that they are not the same. For what is failure to direct
an argument against the thought except what occurs whenever a man does
not in using the expression think it to be used in his question in the
same sense in which the person questioned granted it? And this is the same
thing as to direct the argument against the expression. On the other hand,
it is directed against the thought whenever a man uses the expression in
the same sense which the answerer had in mind when he granted it. If now
any (i.e. both the questioner and the person questioned), in dealing with
an expression with more than one meaning, were to suppose it to have one
meaning-as e.g. it may be that 'Being' and 'One' have many meanings, and
yet both the answerer answers and the questioner puts his question supposing
it to be one, and the argument is to the effect that 'All things are one'-will
this discussion be directed any more against the expression than against
the thought of the person questioned? If, on the other hand, one of them
supposes the expression to have many meanings, it is clear that such a
discussion will not be directed against the thought. Such being the meanings
of the phrases in question, they clearly cannot describe two separate classes
of argument. For, in the first place, it is possible for any such argument
as bears more than one meaning to be directed against the expression and
against the thought, and next it is possible for any argument whatsoever;
for the fact of being directed against the thought consists not in the
nature of the argument, but in the special attitude of the answerer towards
the points he concedes. Next, all of them may be directed to the expression.
For 'to be directed against the expression' means in this doctrine 'not
to be directed against the thought'. For if not all are directed against
either expression or thought, there will be certain other arguments directed
neither against the expression nor against the thought, whereas they say
that all must be one or the other, and divide them all as directed either
against the expression or against the thought, while others (they say)
there are none. But in point of fact those that depend on mere expression
are only a branch of those syllogisms that depend on a multiplicity of
meanings. For the absurd statement has actually been made that the description
'dependent on mere expression' describes all the arguments that depend
on language: whereas some of these are fallacies not because the answerer
adopts a particular attitude towards them, but because the argument itself
involves the asking of a question such as bears more than one
meaning.
It is, too, altogether absurd to discuss Refutation without first
discussing Proof: for a refutation is a proof, so that one ought to discuss
proof as well before describing false refutation: for a refutation of that
kind is a merely apparent proof of the contradictory of a thesis. Accordingly,
the reason of the falsity will be either in the proof or in the contradiction
(for mention of the 'contradiction' must be added), while sometimes it
is in both, if the refutation be merely apparent. In the argument that
speaking of the silent is possible it lies in the contradiction, not in
the proof; in the argument that one can give what one does not possess,
it lies in both; in the proof that Homer's poem is a figure through its
being a cycle it lies in the proof. An argument that does not fail in either
respect is a true proof.
But, to return to the point whence our argument digressed, are
mathematical reasonings directed against the thought, or not? And if any
one thinks 'triangle' to be a word with many meanings, and granted it in
some different sense from the figure which was proved to contain two right
angles, has the questioner here directed his argument against the thought
of the former or not?
Moreover, if the expression bears many senses, while the answerer
does not understand or suppose it to have them, surely the questioner here
has directed his argument against his thought! Or how else ought he to
put his question except by suggesting a distinction-suppose one's question
to be speaking of the silent possible or not?'-as follows, 'Is the answer
"No" in one sense, but "Yes" in another?' If, then, any one were to answer
that it was not possible in any sense and the other were to argue that
it was, has not his argument been directed against the thought of the answerer?
Yet his argument is supposed to be one of those that depend on the expression.
There is not, then, any definite kind of arguments that is directed against
the thought. Some arguments are, indeed, directed against the expression:
but these are not all even apparent refutations, let alone all refutations.
For there are also apparent refutations which do not depend upon language,
e.g. those that depend upon accident, and others.
If, however, any one claims that one should actually draw the distinction,
and say, 'By "speaking of the silent" I mean, in one sense this and in
the other sense that', surely to claim this is in the first place absurd
(for sometimes the questioner does not see the ambiguity of his question,
and he cannot possibly draw a distinction which he does not think to be
there): in the second place, what else but this will didactic argument
be? For it will make manifest the state of the case to one who has never
considered, and does not know or suppose that there is any other meaning
but one. For what is there to prevent the same thing also happening to
us in cases where there is no double meaning? 'Are the units in four equal
to the twos? Observe that the twos are contained in four in one sense in
this way, in another sense in that'. Also, 'Is the knowledge of contraries
one or not? Observe that some contraries are known, while others are unknown'.
Thus the man who makes this claim seems to be unaware of the difference
between didactic and dialectical argument, and of the fact that while he
who argues didactically should not ask questions but make things clear
himself, the other should merely ask questions.
On Sophistical Refutations
By Aristotle
Section 2
Part 11
Moreover, to claim a 'Yes' or 'No' answer is the business not of a man
who is showing something, but of one who is holding an examination. For
the art of examining is a branch of dialectic and has in view not the man
who has knowledge, but the ignorant pretender. He, then, is a dialectician
who regards the common principles with their application to the particular
matter in hand, while he who only appears to do this is a sophist. Now
for contentious and sophistical reasoning: (1) one such is a merely apparent
reasoning, on subjects on which dialectical reasoning is the proper method
of examination, even though its conclusion be true: for it misleads us
in regard to the cause: also (2) there are those misreasonings which do
not conform to the line of inquiry proper to the particular subject, but
are generally thought to conform to the art in question. For false diagrams
of geometrical figures are not contentious (for the resulting fallacies
conform to the subject of the art)-any more than is any false diagram that
may be offered in proof of a truth-e.g. Hippocrates' figure or the squaring
of the circle by means of the lunules. But Bryson's method of squaring
the circle, even if the circle is thereby squared, is still sophistical
because it does not conform to the subject in hand. So, then, any merely
apparent reasoning about these things is a contentious argument, and any
reasoning that merely appears to conform to the subject in hand, even though
it be genuine reasoning, is a contentious argument: for it is merely apparent
in its conformity to the subject-matter, so that it is deceptive and plays
foul. For just as a foul in a race is a definite type of fault, and is
a kind of foul fighting, so the art of contentious reasoning is foul fighting
in disputation: for in the former case those who are resolved to win at
all costs snatch at everything, and so in the latter case do contentious
reasoners. Those, then, who do this in order to win the mere victory are
generally considered to be contentious and quarrelsome persons, while those
who do it to win a reputation with a view to making money are sophistical.
For the art of sophistry is, as we said,' a kind of art of money-making
from a merely apparent wisdom, and this is why they aim at a merely apparent
demonstration: and quarrelsome persons and sophists both employ the same
arguments, but not with the same motives: and the same argument will be
sophistical and contentious, but not in the same respect; rather, it will
be contentious in so far as its aim is an apparent victory, while in so
far as its aim is an apparent wisdom, it will be sophistical: for the art
of sophistry is a certain appearance of wisdom without the reality. The
contentious argument stands in somewhat the same relation to the dialectical
as the drawer of false diagrams to the geometrician; for it beguiles by
misreasoning from the same principles as dialectic uses, just as the drawer
of a false diagram beguiles the geometrician. But whereas the latter is
not a contentious reasoner, because he bases his false diagram on the principles
and conclusions that fall under the art of geometry, the argument which
is subordinate to the principles of dialectic will yet clearly be contentious
as regards other subjects. Thus, e.g. though the squaring of the circle
by means of the lunules is not contentious, Bryson's solution is contentious:
and the former argument cannot be adapted to any subject except geometry,
because it proceeds from principles that are peculiar to geometry, whereas
the latter can be adapted as an argument against all the number of people
who do not know what is or is not possible in each particular context:
for it will apply to them all. Or there is the method whereby Antiphon
squared the circle. Or again, an argument which denied that it was better
to take a walk after dinner, because of Zeno's argument, would not be a
proper argument for a doctor, because Zeno's argument is of general application.
If, then, the relation of the contentious argument to the dialectical were
exactly like that of the drawer of false diagrams to the geometrician,
a contentious argument upon the aforesaid subjects could not have existed.
But, as it is, the dialectical argument is not concerned with any definite
kind of being, nor does it show anything, nor is it even an argument such
as we find in the general philosophy of being. For all beings are not contained
in any one kind, nor, if they were, could they possibly fall under the
same principles. Accordingly, no art that is a method of showing the nature
of anything proceeds by asking questions: for it does not permit a man
to grant whichever he likes of the two alternatives in the question: for
they will not both of them yield a proof. Dialectic, on the other hand,
does proceed by questioning, whereas if it were concerned to show things,
it would have refrained from putting questions, even if not about everything,
at least about the first principles and the special principles that apply
to the particular subject in hand. For suppose the answerer not to grant
these, it would then no longer have had any grounds from which to argue
any longer against the objection. Dialectic is at the same time a mode
of examination as well. For neither is the art of examination an accomplishment
of the same kind as geometry, but one which a man may possess, even though
he has not knowledge. For it is possible even for one without knowledge
to hold an examination of one who is without knowledge, if also the latter
grants him points taken not from thing that he knows or from the special
principles of the subject under discussion but from all that range of consequences
attaching to the subject which a man may indeed know without knowing the
theory of the subject, but which if he do not know, he is bound to be ignorant
of the theory. So then clearly the art of examining does not consist in
knowledge of any definite subject. For this reason, too, it deals with
everything: for every 'theory' of anything employs also certain common
principles. Hence everybody, including even amateurs, makes use in a way
of dialectic and the practice of examining: for all undertake to some extent
a rough trial of those who profess to know things. What serves them here
is the general principles: for they know these of themselves just as well
as the scientist, even if in what they say they seem to the latter to go
wildly astray from them. All, then, are engaged in refutation; for they
take a hand as amateurs in the same task with which dialectic is concerned
professionally; and he is a dialectician who examines by the help of a
theory of reasoning. Now there are many identical principles which are
true of everything, though they are not such as to constitute a particular
nature, i.e. a particular kind of being, but are like negative terms, while
other principles are not of this kind but are special to particular subjects;
accordingly it is possible from these general principles to hold an examination
on everything, and that there should be a definite art of so doing, and,
moreover, an art which is not of the same kind as those which demonstrate.
This is why the contentious reasoner does not stand in the same condition
in all respects as the drawer of a false diagram: for the contentious reasoner
will not be given to misreasoning from any definite class of principles,
but will deal with every class.
These, then, are the types of sophistical refutations: and that
it belongs to the dialectician to study these, and to be able to effect
them, is not difficult to see: for the investigation of premisses comprises
the whole of this study.
Part 12
So much, then, for apparent refutations. As for showing that the
answerer is committing some fallacy, and drawing his argument into paradox-for
this was the second item of the sophist's programme-in the first place,
then, this is best brought about by a certain manner of questioning and
through the question. For to put the question without framing it with reference
to any definite subject is a good bait for these purposes: for people are
more inclined to make mistakes when they talk at large, and they talk at
large when they have no definite subject before them. Also the putting
of several questions, even though the position against which one is arguing
be quite definite, and the claim that he shall say only what he thinks,
create abundant opportunity for drawing him into paradox or fallacy, and
also, whether to any of these questions he replies 'Yes' or replies 'No',
of leading him on to statements against which one is well off for a line
of attack. Nowadays, however, men are less able to play foul by these means
than they were formerly: for people rejoin with the question, 'What has
that to do with the original subject?' It is, too, an elementary rule for
eliciting some fallacy or paradox that one should never put a controversial
question straight away, but say that one puts it from the wish for information:
for the process of inquiry thus invited gives room for an
attack.
A rule specially appropriate for showing up a fallacy is the sophistic
rule, that one should draw the answerer on to the kind of statements against
which one is well supplied with arguments: this can be done both properly
and improperly, as was said before.' Again, to draw a paradoxical statement,
look and see to what school of philosophers the person arguing with you
belongs, and then question him as to some point wherein their doctrine
is paradoxical to most people: for with every school there is some point
of that kind. It is an elementary rule in these matters to have a collection
of the special 'theses' of the various schools among your propositions.
The solution recommended as appropriate here, too, is to point out that
the paradox does not come about because of the argument: whereas this is
what his opponent always really wants.
Moreover, argue from men's wishes and their professed opinions.
For people do not wish the same things as they say they wish: they say
what will look best, whereas they wish what appears to be to their interest:
e.g. they say that a man ought to die nobly rather than to live in pleasure,
and to live in honest poverty rather than in dishonourable riches; but
they wish the opposite. Accordingly, a man who speaks according to his
wishes must be led into stating the professed opinions of people, while
he who speaks according to these must be led into admitting those that
people keep hidden away: for in either case they are bound to introduce
a paradox; for they will speak contrary either to men's professed or to
their hidden opinions.
The widest range of common-place argument for leading men into
paradoxical statement is that which depends on the standards of Nature
and of the Law: it is so that both Callicles is drawn as arguing in the
Gorgias, and that all the men of old supposed the result to come about:
for nature (they said) and law are opposites, and justice is a fine thing
by a legal standard, but not by that of nature. Accordingly, they said,
the man whose statement agrees with the standard of nature you should meet
by the standard of the law, but the man who agrees with the law by leading
him to the facts of nature: for in both ways paradoxical statements may
be committed. In their view the standard of nature was the truth, while
that of the law was the opinion held by the majority. So that it is clear
that they, too, used to try either to refute the answerer or to make him
make paradoxical statements, just as the men of to-day do as
well.
Some questions are such that in both forms the answer is paradoxical;
e.g. 'Ought one to obey the wise or one's father?' and 'Ought one to do
what is expedient or what is just?' and 'Is it preferable to suffer injustice
or to do an injury?' You should lead people, then, into views opposite
to the majority and to the philosophers; if any one speaks as do the expert
reasoners, lead him into opposition to the majority, while if he speaks
as do the majority, then into opposition to the reasoners. For some say
that of necessity the happy man is just, whereas it is paradoxical to the
many that a king should be happy. To lead a man into paradoxes of this
sort is the same as to lead him into the opposition of the standards of
nature and law: for the law represents the opinion of the majority, whereas
philosophers speak according to the standard of nature and the
truth.
Part 13
Paradoxes, then, you should seek to elicit by means of these common-place
rules. Now as for making any one babble, we have already said what we mean
by 'to babble'. This is the object in view in all arguments of the following
kind: If it is all the same to state a term and to state its definition,
the 'double' and 'double of half' are the same: if then 'double' be the
'double of half', it will be the 'double of half of half'. And if, instead
of 'double', 'double of half' be again put, then the same expression will
be repeated three times, 'double of half of half of half'. Also 'desire
is of the pleasant, isn't it?' desire is conation for the pleasant: accordingly,
'desire' is 'conation for the pleasant for the pleasant'.
All arguments of this kind occur in dealing (1) with any relative
terms which not only have relative genera, but are also themselves relative,
and are rendered in relation to one and the same thing, as e.g. conation
is conation for something, and desire is desire of something, and double
is double of something, i.e. double of half: also in dealing (2) with any
terms which, though they be not relative terms at all, yet have their substance,
viz. the things of which they are the states or affections or what not,
indicated as well in their definition, they being predicated of these things.
Thus e.g. 'odd' is a 'number containing a middle': but there is an 'odd
number': therefore there is a 'number-containing-a-middle number'. Also,
if snubness be a concavity of the nose, and there be a snub nose, there
is therefore a 'concave-nose nose'.
People sometimes appear to produce this result, without really
producing it, because they do not add the question whether the expression
'double', just by itself, has any meaning or no, and if so, whether it
has the same meaning, or a different one; but they draw their conclusion
straight away. Still it seems, inasmuch as the word is the same, to have
the same meaning as well.
Part 14
We have said before what kind of thing 'solecism' is.' It is possible
both to commit it, and to seem to do so without doing so, and to do so
without seeming to do so. Suppose, as Protagoras used to say that menis
('wrath') and pelex ('helmet') are masculine: according to him a man who
calls wrath a 'destructress' (oulomenen) commits a solecism, though he
does not seem to do so to other people, where he who calls it a 'destructor'
(oulomenon) commits no solecism though he seems to do so. It is clear,
then, that any one could produce this effect by art as well: and for this
reason many arguments seem to lead to solecism which do not really do so,
as happens in the case of refutations.
Almost all apparent solecisms depend upon the word 'this' (tode),
and upon occasions when the inflection denotes neither a masculine nor
a feminine object but a neuter. For 'he' (outos) signifies a masculine,
and 'she' (aute) feminine; but 'this' (touto), though meant to signify
a neuter, often also signifies one or other of the former: e.g. 'What is
this?' 'It is Calliope'; 'it is a log'; 'it is Coriscus'. Now in the masculine
and feminine the inflections are all different, whereas in the neuter some
are and some are not. Often, then, when 'this' (touto) has been granted,
people reason as if 'him' (touton) had been said: and likewise also they
substitute one inflection for another. The fallacy comes about because
'this' (touto) is a common form of several inflections: for 'this' signifies
sometimes 'he' (outos) and sometimes 'him' (touton). It should signify
them alternately; when combined with 'is' (esti) it should be 'he', while
with 'being' it should be 'him': e.g. 'Coriscus (Kopiskos) is', but 'being
Coriscus' (Kopiskon). It happens in the same way in the case of feminine
nouns as well, and in the case of the so-called 'chattels' that have feminine
or masculine designations. For only those names which end in o and n, have
the designation proper to a chattel, e.g. xulon ('log'), schoinion ('rope');
those which do not end so have that of a masculine or feminine object,
though some of them we apply to chattels: e.g. askos ('wineskin') is a
masculine noun, and kline ('bed') a feminine. For this reason in cases
of this kind as well there will be a difference of the same sort between
a construction with 'is' (esti) or with 'being' (to einai). Also, Solecism
resembles in a certain way those refutations which are said to depend on
the like expression of unlike things. For, just as there we come upon a
material solecism, so here we come upon a verbal: for 'man' is both a 'matter'
for expression and also a 'word': and so is white'.
It is clear, then, that for solecisms we must try to construct
our argument out of the aforesaid inflections.
These, then, are the types of contentious arguments, and the subdivisions
of those types, and the methods for conducting them aforesaid. But it makes
no little difference if the materials for putting the question be arranged
in a certain manner with a view to concealment, as in the case of dialectics.
Following then upon what we have said, this must be discussed
first.
Part 15
With a view then to refutation, one resource is length-for it is
difficult to keep several things in view at once; and to secure length
the elementary rules that have been stated before' should be employed.
One resource, on the other hand, is speed; for when people are left behind
they look ahead less. Moreover, there is anger and contentiousness, for
when agitated everybody is less able to take care of himself. Elementary
rules for producing anger are to make a show of the wish to play foul,
and to be altogether shameless. Moreover, there is the putting of one's
questions alternately, whether one has more than one argument leading to
the same conclusion, or whether one has arguments to show both that something
is so, and that it is not so: for the result is that he has to be on his
guard at the same time either against more than one line, or against contrary
lines, of argument. In general, all the methods described before of producing
concealment are useful also for purposes of contentious argument: for the
object of concealment is to avoid detection, and the object of this is
to deceive.
To counter those who refuse to grant whatever they suppose to help
one's argument, one should put the question negatively, as though desirous
of the opposite answer, or at any rate as though one put the question without
prejudice; for when it is obscure what answer one wants to secure, people
are less refractory. Also when, in dealing with particulars, a man grants
the individual case, when the induction is done you should often not put
the universal as a question, but take it for granted and use it: for sometimes
people themselves suppose that they have granted it, and also appear to
the audience to have done so, for they remember the induction and assume
that the questions could not have been put for nothing. In cases where
there is no term to indicate the universal, still you should avail yourself
of the resemblance of the particulars to suit your purpose; for resemblance
often escapes detection. Also, with a view to obtaining your premiss, you
ought to put it in your question side by side with its contrary. E.g. if
it were necessary to secure the admission that 'A man should obey his father
in everything', ask 'Should a man obey his parents in everything, or disobey
them in everything?'; and to secure that 'A number multiplied by a large
number is a large number', ask 'Should one agree that it is a large number
or a small one?' For then, if compelled to choose, one will be more inclined
to think it a large one: for the placing of their contraries close beside
them makes things look big to men, both relatively and absolutely, and
worse and better.
A strong appearance of having been refuted is often produced by
the most highly sophistical of all the unfair tricks of questioners, when
without proving anything, instead of putting their final proposition as
a question, they state it as a conclusion, as though they had proved that
'Therefore so-and-so is not true'
It is also a sophistical trick, when a paradox has been laid down,
first to propose at the start some view that is generally accepted, and
then claim that the answerer shall answer what he thinks about it, and
to put one's question on matters of that kind in the form 'Do you think
that...?' For then, if the question be taken as one of the premisses of
one's argument, either a refutation or a paradox is bound to result; if
he grants the view, a refutation; if he refuses to grant it or even to
admit it as the received opinion, a paradox; if he refuses to grant it,
but admits that it is the received opinion, something very like a refutation,
results.
Moreover, just as in rhetorical discourses, so also in those aimed
at refutation, you should examine the discrepancies of the answerer's position
either with his own statements, or with those of persons whom he admits
to say and do aright, moreover with those of people who are generally supposed
to bear that kind of character, or who are like them, or with those of
the majority or of all men. Also just as answerers, too, often, when they
are in process of being confuted, draw a distinction, if their confutation
is just about to take place, so questioners also should resort to this
from time to time to counter objectors, pointing out, supposing that against
one sense of the words the objection holds, but not against the other,
that they have taken it in the latter sense, as e.g. Cleophon does in the
Mandrobulus. They should also break off their argument and cut down their
other lines of attack, while in answering, if a man perceives this being
done beforehand, he should put in his objection and have his say first.
One should also lead attacks sometimes against positions other than the
one stated, on the understood condition that one cannot find lines of attack
against the view laid down, as Lycophron did when ordered to deliver a
eulogy upon the lyre. To counter those who demand 'Against what are you
directing your effort?', since one is generally thought bound to state
the charge made, while, on the other hand, some ways of stating it make
the defence too easy, you should state as your aim only the general result
that always happens in refutations, namely the contradiction of his thesis
-viz. that your effort is to deny what he has affirmed, or to affirm what
he denied: don't say that you are trying to show that the knowledge of
contraries is, or is not, the same. One must not ask one's conclusion in
the form of a premiss, while some conclusions should not even be put as
questions at all; one should take and use it as granted.
Part 16
We have now therefore dealt with the sources of questions, and
the methods of questioning in contentious disputations: next we have to
speak of answering, and of how solutions should be made, and of what requires
them, and of what use is served by arguments of this
kind.
The use of them, then, is, for philosophy, twofold. For in the
first place, since for the most part they depend upon the expression, they
put us in a better condition for seeing in how many senses any term is
used, and what kind of resemblances and what kind of differences occur
between things and between their names. In the second place they are useful
for one's own personal researches; for the man who is easily committed
to a fallacy by some one else, and does not perceive it, is likely to incur
this fate of himself also on many occasions. Thirdly and lastly, they further
contribute to one's reputation, viz. the reputation of being well trained
in everything, and not inexperienced in anything: for that a party to arguments
should find fault with them, if he cannot definitely point out their weakness,
creates a suspicion, making it seem as though it were not the truth of
the matter but merely inexperience that put him out of
temper.
Answerers may clearly see how to meet arguments of this kind, if
our previous account was right of the sources whence fallacies came, and
also our distinctions adequate of the forms of dishonesty in putting questions.
But it is not the same thing take an argument in one's hand and then to
see and solve its faults, as it is to be able to meet it quickly while
being subjected to questions: for what we know, we often do not know in
a different context. Moreover, just as in other things speed is enhanced
by training, so it is with arguments too, so that supposing we are unpractised,
even though a point be clear to us, we are often too late for the right
moment. Sometimes too it happens as with diagrams; for there we can sometimes
analyse the figure, but not construct it again: so too in refutations,
though we know the thing on which the connexion of the argument depends,
we still are at a loss to split the argument apart.
Part 17
First then, just as we say that we ought sometimes to choose to
prove something in the general estimation rather than in truth, so also
we have sometimes to solve arguments rather in the general estimation than
according to the truth. For it is a general rule in fighting contentious
persons, to treat them not as refuting, but as merely appearing to refute:
for we say that they don't really prove their case, so that our object
in correcting them must be to dispel the appearance of it. For if refutation
be an unambiguous contradiction arrived at from certain views, there could
be no need to draw distinctions against amphiboly and ambiguity: they do
not effect a proof. The only motive for drawing further distinctions is
that the conclusion reached looks like a refutation. What, then, we have
to beware of, is not being refuted, but seeming to be, because of course
the asking of amphibolies and of questions that turn upon ambiguity, and
all the other tricks of that kind, conceal even a genuine refutation, and
make it uncertain who is refuted and who is not. For since one has the
right at the end, when the conclusion is drawn, to say that the only denial
made of One's statement is ambiguous, no matter how precisely he may have
addressed his argument to the very same point as oneself, it is not clear
whether one has been refuted: for it is not clear whether at the moment
one is speaking the truth. If, on the other hand, one had drawn a distinction,
and questioned him on the ambiguous term or the amphiboly, the refutation
would not have been a matter of uncertainty. Also what is incidentally
the object of contentious arguers, though less so nowadays than formerly,
would have been fulfilled, namely that the person questioned should answer
either 'Yes' or 'No': whereas nowadays the improper forms in which questioners
put their questions compel the party questioned to add something to his
answer in correction of the faultiness of the proposition as put: for certainly,
if the questioner distinguishes his meaning adequately, the answerer is
bound to reply either 'Yes' or 'No'.
If any one is going to suppose that an argument which turns upon
ambiguity is a refutation, it will be impossible for an answerer to escape
being refuted in a sense: for in the case of visible objects one is bound
of necessity to deny the term one has asserted, and to assert what one
has denied. For the remedy which some people have for this is quite unavailing.
They say, not that Coriscus is both musical and unmusical, but that this
Coriscus is musical and this Coriscus unmusical. But this will not do,
for to say 'this Coriscus is unmusical', or 'musical', and to say 'this
Coriscus' is so, is to use the same expression: and this he is both affirming
and denying at once. 'But perhaps they do not mean the same.' Well, nor
did the simple name in the former case: so where is the difference? If,
however, he is to ascribe to the one person the simple title 'Coriscus',
while to the other he is to add the prefix 'one' or 'this', he commits
an absurdity: for the latter is no more applicable to the one than to the
other: for to whichever he adds it, it makes no difference.
All the same, since if a man does not distinguish the senses of
an amphiboly, it is not clear whether he has been confuted or has not been
confuted, and since in arguments the right to distinguish them is granted,
it is evident that to grant the question simply without drawing any distinction
is a mistake, so that, even if not the man himself, at any rate his argument
looks as though it had been refuted. It often happens, however, that, though
they see the amphiboly, people hesitate to draw such distinctions, because
of the dense crowd of persons who propose questions of the kind, in order
that they may not be thought to be obstructionists at every turn: then,
though they would never have supposed that that was the point on which
the argument turned, they often find themselves faced by a paradox. Accordingly,
since the right of drawing the distinction is granted, one should not hesitate,
as has been said before.
If people never made two questions into one question, the fallacy
that turns upon ambiguity and amphiboly would not have existed either,
but either genuine refutation or none. For what is the difference between
asking 'Are Callias and Themistocles musical?' and what one might have
asked if they, being different, had had one name? For if the term applied
means more than one thing, he has asked more than one question. If then
it be not right to demand simply to be given a single answer to two questions,
it is evident that it is not proper to give a simple answer to any ambiguous
question, not even if the predicate be true of all the subjects, as some
claim that one should. For this is exactly as though he had asked 'Are
Coriscus and Callias at home or not at home?', supposing them to be both
in or both out: for in both cases there is a number of propositions: for
though the simple answer be true, that does not make the question one.
For it is possible for it to be true to answer even countless different
questions when put to one, all together with either a 'Yes' or a 'No':
but still one should not answer them with a single answer: for that is
the death of discussion. Rather, the case is like as though different things
has actually had the same name applied to them. If then, one should not
give a single answer to two questions, it is evident that we should not
say simply 'Yes' or 'No' in the case of ambiguous terms either: for the
remark is simply a remark, not an answer at all, although among disputants
such remarks are loosely deemed to be answers, because they do not see
what the consequence is.
As we said, then, inasmuch as certain refutations are generally
taken for such, though not such really, in the same way also certain solutions
will be generally taken for solutions, though not really such. Now these,
we say, must sometimes be advanced rather than the true solutions in contentious
reasonings and in the encounter with ambiguity. The proper answer in saying
what one thinks is to say 'Granted'; for in that way the likelihood of
being refuted on a side issue is minimized. If, on the other hand, one
is compelled to say something paradoxical, one should then be most careful
to add that 'it seems' so: for in that way one avoids the impression of
being either refuted or paradoxical. Since it is clear what is meant by
'begging the original question', and people think that they must at all
costs overthrow the premisses that lie near the conclusion, and plead in
excuse for refusing to grant him some of them that he is begging the original
question, so whenever any one claims from us a point such as is bound to
follow as a consequence from our thesis, but is false or paradoxical, we
must plead the same: for the necessary consequences are generally held
to be a part of the thesis itself. Moreover, whenever the universal has
been secured not under a definite name, but by a comparison of instances,
one should say that the questioner assumes it not in the sense in which
it was granted nor in which he proposed it in the premiss: for this too
is a point upon which a refutation often depends.
If one is debarred from these defences one must pass to the argument
that the conclusion has not been properly shown, approaching it in the
light of the aforesaid distinction between the different kinds of
fallacy.
In the case, then, of names that are used literally one is bound
to answer either simply or by drawing a distinction: the tacit understandings
implied in our statements, e.g. in answer to questions that are not put
clearly but elliptically-it is upon this that the consequent refutation
depends. For example, 'Is what belongs to Athenians the property of Athenians?'
Yes. 'And so it is likewise in other cases. But observe; man belongs to
the animal kingdom, doesn't he?' Yes. 'Then man is the property of the
animal kingdom.' But this is a fallacy: for we say that man 'belongs to'
the animal kingdom because he is an animal, just as we say that Lysander
'belongs to' the Spartans, because he is a Spartan. It is evident, then,
that where the premiss put forward is not clear, one must not grant it
simply.
Whenever of two things it is generally thought that if the one
is true the other is true of necessity, whereas, if the other is true,
the first is not true of necessity, one should, if asked which of them
is true, grant the smaller one: for the larger the number of premisses,
the harder it is to draw a conclusion from them. If, again, the sophist
tries to secure that has a contrary while B has not, suppose what he says
is true, you should say that each has a contrary, only for the one there
is no established name.
Since, again, in regard to some of the views they express, most
people would say that any one who did not admit them was telling a falsehood,
while they would not say this in regard to some, e.g. to any matters whereon
opinion is divided (for most people have no distinct view whether the soul
of animals is destructible or immortal), accordingly (1) it is uncertain
in which of two senses the premiss proposed is usually meant-whether as
maxims are (for people call by the name of 'maxims' both true opinions
and general assertions) or like the doctrine 'the diagonal of a square
is incommensurate with its side': and moreover (2) whenever opinions are
divided as to the truth, we then have subjects of which it is very easy
to change the terminology undetected. For because of the uncertainty in
which of the two senses the premiss contains the truth, one will not be
thought to be playing any trick, while because of the division of opinion,
one will not be thought to be telling a falsehood. Change the terminology
therefore, for the change will make the position irrefutable.
Moreover, whenever one foresees any question coming, one should
put in one's objection and have one's say beforehand: for by doing so one
is likely to embarrass the questioner most effectually.
Part 18
Inasmuch as a proper solution is an exposure of false reasoning,
showing on what kind of question the falsity depends, and whereas 'false
reasoning' has a double meaning-for it is used either if a false conclusion
has been proved, or if there is only an apparent proof and no real one-there
must be both the kind of solution just described,' and also the correction
of a merely apparent proof, so as to show upon which of the questions the
appearance depends. Thus it comes about that one solves arguments that
are properly reasoned by demolishing them, whereas one solves merely apparent
arguments by drawing distinctions. Again, inasmuch as of arguments that
are properly reasoned some have a true and others a false conclusion, those
that are false in respect of their conclusion it is possible to solve in
two ways; for it is possible both by demolishing one of the premisses asked,
and by showing that the conclusion is not the real state of the case: those,
on the other hand, that are false in respect of the premisses can be solved
only by a demolition of one of them; for the conclusion is true. So that
those who wish to solve an argument should in the first place look and
see if it is properly reasoned, or is unreasoned; and next, whether the
conclusion be true or false, in order that we may effect the solution either
by drawing some distinction or by demolishing something, and demolishing
it either in this way or in that, as was laid down before. There is a very
great deal of difference between solving an argument when being subjected
to questions and when not: for to foresee traps is difficult, whereas to
see them at one's leisure is easier.
Part 19
Of the refutations, then, that depend upon ambiguity and amphiboly
some contain some question with more than one meaning, while others contain
a conclusion bearing a number of senses: e.g. in the proof that 'speaking
of the silent' is possible, the conclusion has a double meaning, while
in the proof that 'he who knows does not understand what he knows' one
of the questions contains an amphiboly. Also the double-edged saying is
true in one context but not in another: it means something that is and
something that is not.
Whenever, then, the many senses lie in the conclusion no refutation
takes place unless the sophist secures as well the contradiction of the
conclusion he means to prove; e.g. in the proof that 'seeing of the blind'
is possible: for without the contradiction there was no refutation. Whenever,
on the other hand, the many senses lie in the questions, there is no necessity
to begin by denying the double-edged premiss: for this was not the goal
of the argument but only its support. At the start, then, one should reply
with regard to an ambiguity, whether of a term or of a phrase, in this
manner, that 'in one sense it is so, and in another not so', as e.g. that
'speaking of the silent' is in one sense possible but in another not possible:
also that in one sense 'one should do what must needs be done', but not
in another: for 'what must needs be' bears a number of senses. If, however,
the ambiguity escapes one, one should correct it at the end by making an
addition to the question: 'Is speaking of the silent possible?' 'No, but
to speak of while he is silent is possible.' Also, in cases which contain
the ambiguity in their premisses, one should reply in like manner: 'Do
people-then not understand what they know? "Yes, but not those who know
it in the manner described': for it is not the same thing to say that 'those
who know cannot understand what they know', and to say that 'those who
know something in this particular manner cannot do so'. In general, too,
even though he draws his conclusion in a quite unambiguous manner, one
should contend that what he has negated is not the fact which one has asserted
but only its name; and that therefore there is no refutation.
Part 20
It is evident also how one should solve those refutations that
depend upon the division and combination of words: for if the expression
means something different when divided and when combined, as soon as one's
opponent draws his conclusion one should take the expression in the contrary
way. All such expressions as the following depend upon the combination
or division of the words: 'Was X being beaten with that with which you
saw him being beaten?' and 'Did you see him being beaten with that with
which he was being beaten?' This fallacy has also in it an element of amphiboly
in the questions, but it really depends upon combination. For the meaning
that depends upon the division of the words is not really a double meaning
(for the expression when divided is not the same), unless also the word
that is pronounced, according to its breathing, as eros and eros is a case
of double meaning. (In writing, indeed, a word is the same whenever it
is written of the same letters and in the same manner- and even there people
nowadays put marks at the side to show the pronunciation- but the spoken
words are not the same.) Accordingly an expression that depends upon division
is not an ambiguous one. It is evident also that not all refutations depend
upon ambiguity as some people say they do.
The answerer, then, must divide the expression: for 'I-saw-a-man-being-beaten
with my eyes' is not the same as to say 'I saw a man being-beaten-with-my-eyes'.
Also there is the argument of Euthydemus proving 'Then you know now in
Sicily that there are triremes in Piraeus': and again, 'Can a good man
who is a cobbler be bad?' 'No.' 'But a good man may be a bad cobbler: therefore
a good cobbler will be bad.' Again, 'Things the knowledge of which is good,
are good things to learn, aren't they?' 'Yes.' 'The knowledge, however,
of evil is good: therefore evil is a good thing to know.' 'Yes. But, you
see, evil is both evil and a thing-to-learn, so that evil is an evil-thing-to-learn,
although the knowledge of evils is good.' Again, 'Is it true to say in
the present moment that you are born?' 'Yes.' 'Then you are born in the
present moment.' 'No; the expression as divided has a different meaning:
for it is true to say-in-the-present-moment that "you are born", but not
"You are born-in-the-present-moment".' Again, 'Could you do what you can,
and as you can?' 'Yes.' 'But when not harping, you have the power to harp:
and therefore you could harp when not harping.' 'No: he has not the power
to harp-while-not-harping; merely, when he is not doing it, he has the
power to do it.' Some people solve this last refutation in another way
as well. For, they say, if he has granted that he can do anything in the
way he can, still it does not follow that he can harp when not harping:
for it has not been granted that he will do anything in every way in which
he can; and it is not the same thing' to do a thing in the way he can'
and 'to do it in every way in which he can'. But evidently they do not
solve it properly: for of arguments that depend upon the same point the
solution is the same, whereas this will not fit all cases of the kind nor
yet all ways of putting the questions: it is valid against the questioner,
but not against his argument.
On Sophistical Refutations
By Aristotle
Section 3
Part 21
Accentuation gives rise to no fallacious arguments, either as written or
as spoken, except perhaps some few that might be made up; e.g. the following
argument. 'Is ou katalueis a house?' 'Yes.' 'Is then ou katalueis the negation
of katalueis?' 'Yes.' 'But you said that ou katalueis is a house: therefore
the house is a negation.' How one should solve this, is clear: for the
word does not mean the same when spoken with an acuter and when spoken
with a graver accent.
Part 22
It is clear also how one must meet those fallacies that depend
on the identical expressions of things that are not identical, seeing that
we are in possession of the kinds of predications. For the one man, say,
has granted, when asked, that a term denoting a substance does not belong
as an attribute, while the other has shown that some attribute belongs
which is in the Category of Relation or of Quantity, but is usually thought
to denote a substance because of its expression; e.g. in the following
argument: 'Is it possible to be doing and to have done the same thing at
the same time?' 'No.' 'But, you see, it is surely possible to be seeing
and to have seen the same thing at the same time, and in the same aspect.'
Again, 'Is any mode of passivity a mode of activity?' 'No.' 'Then "he is
cut", "he is burnt", "he is struck by some sensible object" are alike in
expression and all denote some form of passivity, while again "to say",
"to run", "to see" are like one like one another in expression: but, you
see, "to see" is surely a form of being struck by a sensible object; therefore
it is at the same time a form of passivity and of activity.' Suppose, however,
that in that case any one, after granting that it is not possible to do
and to have done the same thing in the same time, were to say that it is
possible to see and to have seen it, still he has not yet been refuted,
suppose him to say that 'to see' is not a form of 'doing' (activity) but
of 'passivity': for this question is required as well, though he is supposed
by the listener to have already granted it, when he granted that 'to cut'
is a form of present, and 'to have cut' a form of past, activity, and so
on with the other things that have a like expression. For the listener
adds the rest by himself, thinking the meaning to be alike: whereas really
the meaning is not alike, though it appears to be so because of the expression.
The same thing happens here as happens in cases of ambiguity: for in dealing
with ambiguous expressions the tyro in argument supposes the sophist to
have negated the fact which he (the tyro) affirmed, and not merely the
name: whereas there still wants the question whether in using the ambiguous
term he had a single meaning in view: for if he grants that that was so,
the refutation will be effected.
Like the above are also the following arguments. It is asked if
a man has lost what he once had and afterwards has not: for a man will
no longer have ten dice even though he has only lost one die. No: rather
it is that he has lost what he had before and has not now; but there is
no necessity for him to have lost as much or as many things as he has not
now. So then, he asks the questions as to what he has, and draws the conclusion
as to the whole number that he has: for ten is a number. If then he had
asked to begin with, whether a man no longer having the number of things
he once had has lost the whole number, no one would have granted it, but
would have said 'Either the whole number or one of them'. Also there is
the argument that 'a man may give what he has not got': for he has not
got only one die. No: rather it is that he has given not what he had not
got, but in a manner in which he had not got it, viz. just the one. For
the word 'only' does not signify a particular substance or quality or number,
but a manner relation, e.g. that it is not coupled with any other. It is
therefore just as if he had asked 'Could a man give what he has not got?'
and, on being given the answer 'No', were to ask if a man could give a
thing quickly when he had not got it quickly, and, on this being granted,
were to conclude that 'a man could give what he had not got'. It is quite
evident that he has not proved his point: for to 'give quickly' is not
to give a thing, but to give in a certain manner; and a man could certainly
give a thing in a manner in which he has not got it, e.g. he might have
got it with pleasure and give it with pain.
Like these are also all arguments of the following kind: 'Could
a man strike a blow with a hand which he has not got, or see with an eye
which he has not got?' For he has not got only one eye. Some people solve
this case, where a man has more than one eye, or more than one of anything
else, by saying also that he has only one. Others also solve it as they
solve the refutation of the view that 'what a man has, he has received':
for A gave only one vote; and certainly B, they say, has only one vote
from A. Others, again, proceed by demolishing straight away the proposition
asked, and admitting that it is quite possible to have what one has not
received; e.g. to have received sweet wine, but then, owing to its going
bad in the course of receipt, to have it sour. But, as was said also above,'
all these persons direct their solutions against the man, not against his
argument. For if this were a genuine solution, then, suppose any one to
grant the opposite, he could find no solution, just as happens in other
cases; e.g. suppose the true solution to be 'So-and-so is partly true and
partly not', then, if the answerer grants the expression without any qualification,
the sophist's conclusion follows. If, on the other hand, the conclusion
does not follow, then that could not be the true solution: and what we
say in regard to the foregoing examples is that, even if all the sophist's
premisses be granted, still no proof is effected.
Moreover, the following too belong to this group of arguments.
'If something be in writing did some one write it?' 'Yes.' 'But it is now
in writing that you are seated-a false statement, though it was true at
the time when it was written: therefore the statement that was written
is at the same time false and true.' But this is fallacious, for the falsity
or truth of a statement or opinion indicates not a substance but a quality:
for the same account applies to the case of an opinion as well. Again,
'Is what a learner learns what he learns?' 'Yes.' 'But suppose some one
learns "slow" quick'. Then his (the sophist's) words denote not what the
learner learns but how he learns it. Also, 'Does a man tread upon what
he walks through? 'Yes.' 'But X walks through a whole day.' No, rather
the words denote not what he walks through, but when he walks; just as
when any one uses the words 'to drink the cup' he denotes not what he drinks,
but the vessel out of which he drinks. Also, 'Is it either by learning
or by discovery that a man knows what he knows?' 'Yes.' 'But suppose that
of a pair of things he has discovered one and learned the other, the pair
is not known to him by either method.' No: 'what' he knows, means' every
single thing' he knows, individually; but this does not mean 'all the things'
he knows, collectively. Again, there is the proof that there is a 'third
man' distinct from Man and from individual men. But that is a fallacy,
for 'Man', and indeed every general predicate, denotes not an individual
substance, but a particular quality, or the being related to something
in a particular manner, or something of that sort. Likewise also in the
case of 'Coriscus' and 'Coriscus the musician' there is the problem, Are
they the same or different?' For the one denotes an individual substance
and the other a quality, so that it cannot be isolated; though it is not
the isolation which creates the 'third man', but the admission that it
is an individual substance. For 'Man' cannot be an individual substance,
as Callias is. Nor is the case improved one whit even if one were to call
the clement he has isolated not an individual substance but a quality:
for there will still be the one beside the many, just as 'Man' was. It
is evident then that one must not grant that what is a common predicate
applying to a class universally is an individual substance, but must say
that denotes either a quality, or a relation, or a quantity, or something
of that kind.
Part 23
It is a general rule in dealing with arguments that depend on language
that the solution always follows the opposite of the point on which the
argument turns: e.g. if the argument depends upon combination, then the
solution consists in division; if upon division, then in combination. Again,
if it depends on an acute accent, the solution is a grave accent; if on
a grave accent, it is an acute. If it depends on ambiguity, one can solve
it by using the opposite term; e.g. if you find yourself calling something
inanimate, despite your previous denial that it was so, show in what sense
it is alive: if, on the other hand, one has declared it to be inanimate
and the sophist has proved it to be animate, say how it is inanimate. Likewise
also in a case of amphiboly. If the argument depends on likeness of expression,
the opposite will be the solution. 'Could a man give what he has not got?
'No, not what he has not got; but he could give it in a way in which he
has not got it, e.g. one die by itself.' Does a man know either by learning
or by discovery each thing that he knows, singly? but not the things that
he knows, collectively.' Also a man treads, perhaps, on any thing he walks
through, but not on the time he walks through. Likewise also in the case
of the other examples.
Part 24
In dealing with arguments that depend on Accident, one and the
same solution meets all cases. For since it is indeterminate when an attribute
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