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The bare assertion fallacy is, to put it simply, a fallacy
of reasoning in which the user gives no reasons at all for his position
other than the fact that he says so. It is the treasured fallacy
of every parent who has ever told his child, "You want to know why you're
not going? I'll tell you why: Because I said so."
This reasoning is spotted by almost everyone as illogical
but it remains powerful because it relies on a power difference between
the two arguers. Imagine a child using the same strategy on his parent:
"Now you listen to me: you'll buy me that go-kart right now...BECAUSE
I'M THE KID AND YOU'LL DO AS I SAY." Bold, to be sure, but laughable.
So status is the key. Now here's a question:
who has the greatest status in the universe? No, not Michael Jordan.
Nor is it Larry King. The answer I'm seeking is GOD. Surely
a God who calls Himself "I am that I am" is one who has ultimate status.
(Modern response: You da God.")
So when God says, "That's the way it is simply because I
said so," there isn't a whole lot a God-fearing world can do except say,
"Okay."
And that was the basic scene back in 1600 when a scientist
named Galileo was advancing his theories that the earth revolved around
the sun. He was not the originator of these theories: Copernicus
had been advancing them for several years and some thinkers a millineum
prior had speculated as much. But Galileo was the man who put his
theories into an argument against the church of his day. And the
Catholic church, still stinging from Luther's revolt, was in no mind to
have further erosion come from the fledgling scientific community.
The church's position was as follows:
The Bible was the inerrant word of God.
It contained verses which showed that the earth was anchored
while the sun moved.
It was also the general consensus that the earth was the
center of God's plan.
Therefore, the sun couldn't revolve around the earth.
And the natural response is: Why not?
To which the answer would have to be: Because God said
so.
To which a serious arguer would've followed up with:
show me the money (verses).
To which a papal commission would've said: "Try these
on for size."
Ecclesiastes 1:4 and 5: One generation goeth, and another
generation cometh; but the earth abideth for ever. The sun also ariseth,
and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to its place where it ariseth.
Psalms 92: "He has made the world firm, not to be moved."
Psalms 103: "You fixed the earth upon its foundation, not
to be moved forever."
And how about in Joshua 10:12: "Then spake Joshua to Jehovah
in the day when Jehovah delivered up the Amorites before the children of
Israel; and he said in the sight of Israel, Sun, stand thou still upon
Gibeon."
To which any God-fearing person would've likely responded,
"Touche."
But not Galileo. He had a new telescope he had invented
and he had seen proof, lots of proof. And he was bound and determined
to overthrow this logical fallacy. Some historians say he went out
of his way to pick a fight with the church over this issue.
Well, it came to a head first in 1616. Pope Paul V
had a group of experts consider the basic tenets of this "Copernican doctrine"
and determined it was "foolish and absurd philosophically and formally
heretical inasmuch as it expressly contradicts the doctrine of Holy Scripture
in many passages."
In other words, God said so. Forget science.
Forget evidence. It went against what God said directly in the scriptures.
End of argument.
Galileo was publicly chastised by the church and warned
"to abstain altogether from teaching or defending this opinion and doctrine,
and even from discussing it."
Well, Galileo was not one for bare assertions. Actually,
there are two layers of bare assertions here: one from God, the other
from the church. The one from God Galileo had no trouble dealing
with. He too believed in the inerrancy of the scriptures. The
problem, he asserted, was with the way the church interpreted the Bible.
Their idea of inerrancy was absolute literalness. He was quick to
point out many figurative passages in the Bible which even they accepted
as figurative. He also reminded them that the Bible needed to be
understood in its historical context.
No, Galileo wasn't refuting God's fallacy for he saw none
there; he was refuting the fallacy of the church being able to state categorically
something as true based on their interpretation, something which was obviously
(to him, anyway) not true.
So Galileo pressed on, arguing his case. In 1633 with
a new pope (Urban) at the helm, Galileo's taunts could be tolerated no
longer. The church inquisitioned him again and this time censured
him. He was finally condemned by the Holy Office as "vehemently suspected
of heresy" and forced to live out his life (which was diminishing rapidly)
in a kind of house arrest. It wasn't really all that bad; he continued
writing and lived in modest comfort. But the church had the last
word, the party of superior status got its way.
Many people mark this as the beginning of the strife between
science and religion, between reason and faith. But that isn't altogether
fair. Before we all jump on the bandwagon (another kind of fallacy)
and start cursing the church too loudly, we should keep in mind that many
others of Galileo's day, including Luther and much of academia, also disagreed
with his views.
But there is a difference. These others didn't have
the power to put an end to the argument and thus they weren't able to make
use of one of the grandest of logical fallacies, the Bare Assertion.
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