Fallacy

49 Circular Definitions and Question Begging
One way to eliminate vagueness and to make sure that abstractions adequately represent constructions is to define the terms carefully. Clear definitions may not solve all difficulties (see pp. 65 f.). Be this as it may, bad definitions multiply them. The most notorious fault with definition is circularity, although formal definitions are circular in the sense that the defining term and the term to be defined are interchangeable. By "circular definition" is meant a definition which attempts to resolve a point at issue by defining a term so as to preempt the point. Such a definition "begs the question." Suppose someone is arguing that responsibility cannot be expected of children. His opponent argues, " 'Responsibility' means the ability to distinguish between right and wrong." Then he adds, "Children of six can distinguish between what's right and what's wrong. They are therefore responsible." The answer is correct. "Responsibility" can be defined in this way, and small children can tell you what is right and wrong. The conclusion follows. Far from winning the argument, however, the statement merely leaves the disputants in need of a word to cover what was originally intended by "responsibility."
EXAMPLE COMMENT
A defense attorney addresses the jury: "These fraudulent charges, long since proved false and unfounded . . ." The judge interrupts to instruct him that whether or not the charges are false and fraudulent is just what the jury is impaneled to determine. Counsel retorts, " 'False' means 'without basis in fact* and 'fraudulent' means 'deceitful.' That is what our side is contending. All I am doing is stating our contention. Are we not to be allowed to answer the charge?" The attorney's speech begs the question before the court, and his circular definition begs the question as to whether he is to be allowed to beg the question.
Sextus Empiricus has an argument for the existence of the gods. He points out that "you do not serve the centaurs, because the centaurs are non-existent." But you do serve the gods. So the gods certainly exist, or else "you could not serve them." This argument is an enthymeme, but the suppressed elements are suggested by the remark about the centaurs. Let us spell out the whole thing. "If something is non-existent, you cannot serve it. The centaurs are non-existent. Therefore, you cannot serve them. If you can serve something, that something must exist. But you can and do serve the gods. Therefore, the gods exist." Now it is true that there are no centaurs around to be served; moreover, people do not in fact serve them. But how about the first premise "If something is non-existent, you cannot serve it"? From this it follows that "If you can serve something, that something must exist," but this is precisely what Sextus Empiricus ought to be proving. Thus, when we supply for him the premise that will make his argument valid and plausible, we assume the very thing that he wants to prove. The argument is circular. Moreover, as the case of the worship of pagan gods shows, the suppressed premise on which it rests is false. If I should start a new worship tomorrow and establish a ritual to serve Glug-Glug, would this cause Glug-Glug to exist?

Circular definitions are a rather obvious instance of question begging. In its full-blown maturity question begging can go on for volumes, even through whole systems of thought. As can be guessed, the mature fallacy is not easy to handle. There it is, big as the universe (in Hegel, for example), but just how it operates is hard to show in a simple instance. There are some formulas that rouse suspicion in the experienced, such as "It is obvious," "No one can deny" (see #21), and a whiff of vagueness is sufficient to put an old hunter on the scent (see #10). Yet the beast is often elusive: if trapped by an exception, he can be rescued by a distinction.
EXAMPLE COMMENT
Everything in the world is known through experience. An inexperienced fact is inconceivable. There is, then, a constant equation between fact and experience. Philosophical idealism declares that the world is caused by experience. What evidence is there for anything else? Does not evidence itself involve experience? Now experience obviously requires an experiencing intelligence. Idealism draws the evident conclusion: the universe is mental. Without mind there is nothing. Notice the vagueness of "fact," "experience," "mental." In this (very truncated) statement of the idealist position, it seems unlikely that by "mental," for instance, can be meant what is commonly meant by that term. And notice "evident" and "obviously." That the universe is mental is a far from evident conclusion, and it is far from obvious that without mind there is nothing, since this is what the argument is designed to prove. Ralph Barton Perry showed that this argument for Idealism rests on the truth that whatever is likely to be meant by "experience," it will attend all knowledge. Perry argued that this kind of constant attendance does not prove a causal relation. Everything that happens in the world is attended by configurations of the stars and planets, what astrologers call the "chart." And this chart is constantly changing. But it certainly does not follow that these changes in the sky cause events they attend in the lives of men. To suppose so is superstition: astrology.
It might be added that the term "experience" is so inclusive that it incorporates "knowledge" and even "fact." When such terms occur in argument, there is open invitation to circularity. The circularity here is something like the following: Experience attends everything, and it is mental; the universe is everything; so experience causes the universe; therefore, the universe is mental. Needless to say, idealists would reject such a crude statement of their position. This is what makes exposure of question-begging so difficult.
In a picture by the famous French comedian Sacha Guitry some thieves are arguing over division of seven pearls worth a king's ransom. One of them hands two to the man on his right, then two to the man on his left. "I," he says, "will keep three." Trie man on his right says, "How come you keep three?" "Because I am the leader." "Oh. But how come you are the leader?" "Because I have more pearls."

This apparently satisfies the two thieves. Even this simple-minded example takes several lines to explain, and it is apparent that instances of question begging designed for more than amusement consume time and space. This is especially so, since they almost never occur in pure isolation, but come interlaced with the pearls of shimmering vagueness linked together with false generalizations and the golden chains of Word Magic (see #12).

EXAMPLE	COMMENT
A defense attorney addresses the jury: "These fraudulent charges, long since proved false and unfounded . . ." The judge interrupts to instruct him that whether or not the charges are false and fraudulent is just what the jury is impaneled to determine. Counsel retorts, " 'False' means 'without basis in fact* and 'fraudulent' means 'deceitful.' That is what our side is contending. All I am doing is stating our contention. Are we not to be allowed to answer the charge?"	The attorney's speech begs the question before the court, and his circular definition begs the question as to whether he is to be allowed to beg the question.
Sextus Empiricus has an argument for the existence of the gods. He points out that "you do not serve the centaurs, because the centaurs are non-existent." But you do serve the gods. So the gods certainly exist, or else "you could not serve them."	This argument is an enthymeme, but the suppressed elements are suggested by the remark about the centaurs. Let us spell out the whole thing. "If something is non-existent, you cannot serve it. The centaurs are non-existent. Therefore, you cannot serve them. If you can serve something, that something must exist. But you can and do serve the gods. Therefore, the gods exist." Now it is true that there are no centaurs around to be served; moreover, people do not in fact serve them. But how about the first premise "If something is non-existent, you cannot serve it"? From this it follows that "If you can serve something, that something must exist," but this is precisely what Sextus Empiricus ought to be proving. Thus, when we supply for him the premise that will make his argument valid and plausible, we assume the very thing that he wants to prove. The argument is circular. Moreover, as the case of the worship of pagan gods shows, the suppressed premise on which it rests is false. If I should start a new worship tomorrow and establish a ritual to serve Glug-Glug, would this cause Glug-Glug to exist?

EXAMPLE	COMMENT
Everything in the world is known through experience. An inexperienced fact is inconceivable. There is, then, a constant equation between fact and experience. Philosophical idealism declares that the world is caused by experience. What evidence is there for anything else? Does not evidence itself involve experience? Now experience obviously requires an experiencing intelligence. Idealism draws the evident conclusion: the universe is mental. Without mind there is nothing.	Notice the vagueness of "fact," "experience," "mental." In this (very truncated) statement of the idealist position, it seems unlikely that by "mental," for instance, can be meant what is commonly meant by that term. And notice "evident" and "obviously." That the universe is mental is a far from evident conclusion, and it is far from obvious that without mind there is nothing, since this is what the argument is designed to prove. Ralph Barton Perry showed that this argument for Idealism rests on the truth that whatever is likely to be meant by "experience," it will attend all knowledge. Perry argued that this kind of constant attendance does not prove a causal relation. Everything that happens in the world is attended by configurations of the stars and planets, what astrologers call the "chart." And this chart is constantly changing. But it certainly does not follow that these changes in the sky cause events they attend in the lives of men. To suppose so is superstition: astrology. It might be added that the term "experience" is so inclusive that it incorporates "knowledge" and even "fact." When such terms occur in argument, there is open invitation to circularity. The circularity here is something like the following: Experience attends everything, and it is mental; the universe is everything; so experience causes the universe; therefore, the universe is mental. Needless to say, idealists would reject such a crude statement of their position. This is what makes exposure of question-begging so difficult.
In a picture by the famous French comedian Sacha Guitry some thieves are arguing over division of seven pearls worth a king's ransom. One of them hands two to the man on his right, then two to the man on his left. "I," he says, "will keep three." Trie man on his right says, "How come you keep three?" "Because I am the leader." "Oh. But how come you are the leader?" "Because I have more pearls."	This apparently satisfies the two thieves. Even this simple-minded example takes several lines to explain, and it is apparent that instances of question begging designed for more than amusement consume time and space. This is especially so, since they almost never occur in pure isolation, but come interlaced with the pearls of shimmering vagueness linked together with false generalizations and the golden chains of Word Magic (see #12).