Good Moves
That’s quite amusing. I wrote the comment below before I read Julian’s new Bad Moves, which also has partly to do with Prince Charles’ medical expertise compared with that of mere, you know, medical experts.
The strict dietary regime in question is the Gerson Therapy, which eschews drugs in favour of coffee enemas and fruit juices. It has the support of well-known medical experts such as Prince Charles, interior designer Dudley Poplak and Lord Baldwin of Bewdley. Their opinions, of course, carry more weight than those of the American Cancer Society, which warns that the treatment could be dangerous.
Pure coincidence, that. And then he goes on to make an excellent point about language that helps question-begging to do its thing.
Begging the question – assuming what needs to be argued for – is often a result of a careless use of language. More specifically, we often use “success” words where more neutral vocabulary is needed. For example, we say learned French when really we only studied it and never developed any real competence…The unjustified use of success words is not the same mistake as begging the question, but it is often the means by which question begging occurs.
Ain’t it though. Another example I notice a lot is saying someone realized or understood or recognized or saw something when the something in question is precisely what’s in dispute. ‘She realized that logic is a patriarchal imposition.’ Oh yeah? How do you ‘realize’ something that isn’t true, huh?
I suppose you do it by scrupulously avoiding logic because it’s a patriarchal imposition. How useful language can be!
“The unjustified use of success words is not the same mistake as begging the question, but it is often the means by which question begging occurs.”
Julian really nails it here. This is such a big problem in all varieties of rhetoric, and Julian calls attention to it more clearly than anyone else I’ve seen.
In so many ways, theological rhetoric exemplifies this very point. It wouldn’t be much of a stress to say that the ontological argument for God’s existence, for instance, trades on exactly the kind of smarmy, assumed success language discussed here. Let’s start by calling God “perfect” when we really don’t even know what his perfection could possibly entail. Next, having unjustifiably attached the word “perfect” to God, we go on to say that a truly perfect God would actually exist, rather than just theoretically exist, and therefore there is really a God. And so much religious argumentation is like that it’s not even funny – it’s quite sad, really.
Phil
Indeed. I think I did a little thing once about that ‘perfect’ idea. Perfectly – what? Tall? Short? Fat? Clever? Dim? Blue? Green? Strong? Kind? Strict? Generous? Frugal?