Topics
By Aristotle
Written 350 B.C.E
Translated by W. A. Pickard-Cambridge
Table of Contents
Book I
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Part 1
Our treatise proposes to find a line of inquiry whereby we shall be able to reason from
opinions that are generally accepted about every problem propounded to us, and also
shall ourselves, when standing up to an argument, avoid saying anything that will
obstruct us. First, then, we must say what reasoning is, and what its varieties are, in order
to grasp dialectical reasoning: for this is the object of our search in the treatise before us.
Now reasoning is an argument in which, certain things being laid down, something other
than these necessarily comes about through them. (a) It is a 'demonstration', when the
premisses from which the reasoning starts are true and primary, or are such that our
knowledge of them has originally come through premisses which are primary and true:
(b) reasoning, on the other hand, is 'dialectical', if it reasons from opinions that are
generally accepted. Things are 'true' and 'primary' which are believed on the strength not
of anything else but of themselves: for in regard to the first principles of science it is
improper to ask any further for the why and wherefore of them; each of the first
principles should command belief in and by itself. On the other hand, those opinions are
'generally accepted' which are accepted by every one or by the majority or by the
philosophers-i.e. by all, or by the majority, or by the most notable and illustrious of them.
Again (c), reasoning is 'contentious' if it starts from opinions that seem to be generally
accepted, but are not really such, or again if it merely seems to reason from opinions that
are or seem to be generally accepted. For not every opinion that seems to be generally
accepted actually is generally accepted. For in none of the opinions which we call
generally accepted is the illusion entirely on the surface, as happens in the case of the
principles of contentious arguments; for the nature of the fallacy in these is obvious
immediately, and as a rule even to persons with little power of comprehension. So then,
of the contentious reasonings mentioned, the former really deserves to be called
'reasoning' as well, but the other should be called 'contentious reasoning', but not
'reasoning', since it appears to reason, but does not really do so. Further (d), besides all
the reasonings we have mentioned there are the mis-reasonings that start from the
premisses peculiar to the special sciences, as happens (for example) in the case of
geometry and her sister sciences. For this form of reasoning appears to differ from the
reasonings mentioned above; the man who draws a false figure reasons from things that
are neither true and primary, nor yet generally accepted. For he does not fall within the
definition; he does not assume opinions that are received either by every one or by the
majority or by philosophers-that is to say, by all, or by most, or by the most illustrious of
them-but he conducts his reasoning upon assumptions which, though appropriate to the
science in question, are not true; for he effects his mis-reasoning either by describing the
semicircles wrongly or by drawing certain lines in a way in which they could not be
drawn.
The foregoing must stand for an outline survey of the species of reasoning. In general, in
regard both to all that we have already discussed and to those which we shall discuss
later, we may remark that that amount of distinction between them may serve, because it
is not our purpose to give the exact definition of any of them; we merely want to describe
them in outline; we consider it quite enough from the point of view of the line of inquiry
before us to be able to recognize each of them in some sort of way.
***
Part 10
First, then, a definition must be given of a 'dialectical proposition' and a 'dialectical
problem'. For it is not every proposition nor yet every problem that is to be set down as
dialectical: for no one in his senses would make a proposition of what no one holds, nor
yet make a problem of what is obvious to everybody or to most people: for the latter
admits of no doubt, while to the former no one would assent. Now a dialectical
proposition consists in asking something that is held by all men or by most men or by the
philosophers, i.e. either by all, or by most, or by the most notable of these, provided it be
not contrary to the general opinion; for a man would probably assent to the view of the
philosophers, if it be not contrary to the opinions of most men. Dialectical propositions
also include views which are like those generally accepted; also propositions which
contradict the contraries of opinions that are taken to be generally accepted, and also all
opinions that are in accordance with the recognized arts. Thus, supposing it to be a
general opinion that the knowledge of contraries is the same, it might probably pass for a
general opinion also that the perception of contraries is the same: also, supposing it to be
a general opinion that there is but one single science of grammar, it might pass for a
general opinion that there is but one science of flute-playing as well, whereas, if it be a
general opinion that there is more than one science of grammar, it might pass for a
general opinion that there is more than one science of flute-playing as well: for all these
seem to be alike and akin. Likewise, also, propositions contradicting the contraries of
general opinions will pass as general opinions: for if it be a general opinion that one
ought to do good to one's friends, it will also be a general opinion that one ought not to
do them harm. Here, that one ought to do harm to one's friends is contrary to the general
view, and that one ought not to do them harm is the contradictory of that contrary.
Likewise also, if one ought to do good to one's friends, one ought not to do good to one's
enemies: this too is the contradictory of the view contrary to the general view; the
contrary being that one ought to do good to one's enemies. Likewise, also, in other cases.
Also, on comparison, it will look like a general opinion that the contrary predicate
belongs to the contrary subject: e.g. if one ought to do good to one's friends, one ought
also to do evil to one's enemies. it might appear also as if doing good to one's friends
were a contrary to doing evil to one's enemies: but whether this is or is not so in reality as
well will be stated in the course of the discussion upon contraries. Clearly also, all
opinions that are in accordance with the arts are dialectical propositions; for people are
likely to assent to the views held by those who have made a study of these things, e.g. on
a question of medicine they will agree with the doctor, and on a question of geometry
with the geometrician; and likewise also in other cases.
Part 11
A dialectical problem is a subject of inquiry that contributes either to choice and
avoidance, or to truth and knowledge, and that either by itself, or as a help to the solution
of some other such problem. It must, moreover, be something on which either people
hold no opinion either way, or the masses hold a contrary opinion to the philosophers, or
the philosophers to the masses, or each of them among themselves. For some problems it
is useful to know with a view to choice or avoidance, e.g. whether pleasure is to be
chosen or not, while some it is useful to know merely with a view to knowledge, e.g.
whether the universe is eternal or not: others, again, are not useful in and by themselves
for either of these purposes, but yet help us in regard to some such problems; for there are
many things which we do not wish to know in and by themselves, but for the sake of
other things, in order that through them we may come to know something else. Problems
also include questions in regard to which reasonings conflict (the difficulty then being
whether so-and so is so or not, there being convincing arguments for both views); others
also in regard to which we have no argument because they are so vast, and we find it
difficult to give our reasons, e.g. the question whether the universe is eternal or no: for
into questions of that kind too it is possible to inquire.
Problems, then, and propositions are to be defined as aforesaid. A 'thesis' is a supposition
of some eminent philosopher that conflicts with the general opinion; e.g. the view that
contradiction is impossible, as Antisthenes said; or the view of Heraclitus that all things
are in motion; or that Being is one, as Melissus says: for to take notice when any ordinary
person expresses views contrary to men's usual opinions would be silly. Or it may be a
view about which we have a reasoned theory contrary to men's usual opinions, e.g. the
view maintained by the sophists that what is need not in every case either have come to
be or be eternal: for a musician who is a grammarian 'is' so without ever having 'come to
be' so, or being so eternally. For even if a man does not accept this view, he might do so
on the ground that it is reasonable.
Now a 'thesis' also is a problem, though a problem is not always a thesis, inasmuch as
some problems are such that we have no opinion about them either way. That a thesis,
however, also forms a problem, is clear: for it follows of necessity from what has been
said that either the mass of men disagree with the philosophers about the thesis, or that
the one or the other class disagree among themselves, seeing that the thesis is a
supposition in conflict with general opinion. Practically all dialectical problems indeed
are now called 'theses'. But it should make no difference whichever description is used;
for our object in thus distinguishing them has not been to create a terminology, but to
recognize what differences happen to be found between them.
Not every problem, nor every thesis, should be examined, but only one which might
puzzle one of those who need argument, not punishment or perception. For people who
are puzzled to know whether one ought to honour the gods and love one's parents or not
need punishment, while those who are puzzled to know whether snow is white or not
need perception. The subjects should not border too closely upon the sphere of
demonstration, nor yet be too far removed from it: for the former cases admit of no doubt,
while the latter involve difficulties too great for the art of the trainer.
Part 12
Having drawn these definitions, we must distinguish how many species there are of
dialectical arguments. There is on the one hand Induction, on the other Reasoning. Now
what reasoning is has been said before: induction is a passage from individuals to
universals, e.g. the argument that supposing the skilled pilot is the most effective, and
likewise the skilled charioteer, then in general the skilled man is the best at his particular
task. Induction is the more convincing and clear: it is more readily learnt by the use of the
senses, and is applicable generally to the mass of men, though reasoning is more forcible
and effective against contradictious people.
*.* *
Topics
By Aristotle
Written 350 B.C.E
Translated by W. A. Pickard-Cambridge
Go to previous
Table of Contents
Book VIII
Part 1
Next there fall to be discussed the problems of arrangement and method in pitting
questions. Any one who intends to frame questions must, first of all, select the ground
from which he should make his attack; secondly, he must frame them and arrange them
one by one to himself; thirdly and lastly, he must proceed actually to put them to the
other party. Now so far as the selection of his ground is concerned the problem is one
alike for the philosopher and the dialectician; but how to go on to arrange his points and
frame his questions concerns the dialectician only: for in every problem of that kind a
reference to another party is involved. Not so with the philosopher, and the man who is
investigating by himself: the premisses of his reasoning, although true and familiar, may
be refused by the answerer because they lie too near the original statement and so he
foresees what will follow if he grants them: but for this the philosopher does not care.
Nay, he may possibly be even anxious to secure axioms as familiar and as near to the
question in hand as possible: for these are the bases on which scientific reasonings are
built up.
The sources from which one's commonplace arguments should be drawn have already
been described:' we have now to discuss the arrangement and formation of questions and
first to distinguish the premisses, other than the necessary premisses, which have to be
adopted. By necessary premisses are meant those through which the actual reasoning is
constructed. Those which are secured other than these are of four kinds; they serve either
inductively to secure the universal premiss being granted, or to lend weight to the
argument, or to conceal the conclusion, or to render the argument more clear. Beside
these there is no other premiss which need be secured: these are the ones whereby you
should try to multiply and formulate your questions. Those which are used to conceal the
conclusion serve a controversial purpose only; but inasmuch as an undertaking of this
sort is always conducted against another person, we are obliged to employ them as well.
The necessary premisses through which the reasoning is effected, ought not to be
propounded directly in so many words. Rather one should soar as far aloof from them as
possible. Thus if one desires to secure an admission that the knowledge of contraries is
one, one should ask him to admit it not of contraries, but of opposites: for, if he grants
this, one will then argue that the knowledge of contraries is also the same, seeing that
contraries are opposites; if he does not, one should secure the admission by induction, by
formulating a proposition to that effect in the case of some particular pair of contraries.
For one must secure the necessary premisses either by reasoning or by induction, or else
partly by one and partly by the other, although any propositions which are too obvious to
be denied may be formulated in so many words. This is because the coming conclusion is
less easily discerned at the greater distance and in the process of induction, while at the
same time, even if one cannot reach the required premisses in this way, it is still open to
one to formulate them in so many words. The premisses, other than these, that were
mentioned above, must be secured with a view to the latter. The way to employ them
respectively is as follows: Induction should proceed from individual cases to the
universal and from the known to the unknown; and the objects of perception are better
known, to most people if not invariably. Concealment of one's plan is obtained by
securing through prosyllogisms the premisses through which the proof of the original
proposition is going to be constructed-and as many of them as possible. This is likely to
be effected by making syllogisms to prove not only the necessary premisses but also
some of those which are required to establish them. Moreover, do not state the
conclusions of these premisses but draw them later one after another; for this is likely to
keep the answerer at the greatest possible distance from the original proposition.
Speaking generally, a man who desires to get information by a concealed method should
so put his questions that when he has put his whole argument and has stated the
conclusion, people still ask 'Well, but why is that?' This result will be secured best of all
by the method above described: for if one states only the final conclusion, it is unclear
how it comes about; for the answerer does not foresee on what grounds it is based,
because the previous syllogisms have not been made articulate to him: while the final
syllogism, showing the conclusion, is likely to be kept least articulate if we lay down not
the secured propositions on which it is based, but only the grounds on which we reason to
them.
It is a useful rule, too, not to secure the admissions claimed as the bases of the syllogisms
in their proper order, but alternately those that conduce to one conclusion and those that
conduce to another; for, if those which go together are set side by side, the conclusion
that will result from them is more obvious in advance.
One should also, wherever possible, secure the universal premiss by a definition relating
not to the precise terms themselves but to their co-ordinates; for people deceive
themselves, whenever the definition is taken in regard to a co-ordinate, into thinking that
they are not making the admission universally. An instance would be, supposing one had
to secure the admission that the angry man desires vengeance on account of an apparent
slight, and were to secure this, that 'anger' is a desire for vengeance on account of an
apparent slight: for, clearly, if this were secured, we should have universally what we
intend. If, on the other hand, people formulate propositions relating to the actual terms
themselves, they often find that the answerer refuses to grant them because on the actual
term itself he is readier with his objection, e.g. that the 'angry man' does not desire
vengeance, because we become angry with our parents, but we do not desire vengeance
on them. Very likely the objection is not valid; for upon some people it is vengeance
enough to cause them pain and make them sorry; but still it gives a certain plausibility
and air of reasonableness to the denial of the proposition. In the case, however, of the
definition of 'anger' it is not so easy to find an objection.
Moreover, formulate your proposition as though you did so not for its own sake, but in
order to get at something else: for people are shy of granting what an opponent's case
really requires. Speaking generally, a questioner should leave it as far as possible
doubtful whether he wishes to secure an admission of his proposition or of its opposite:
for if it be uncertain what their opponent's argument requires, people are more ready to
say what they themselves think.
Moreover, try to secure admissions by means of likeness: for such admissions are
plausible, and the universal involved is less patent; e.g. make the other person admit that
as knowledge and ignorance of contraries is the same, so too perception of contraries is
the same; or vice versa, that since the perception is the same, so is the knowledge also.
This argument resembles induction, but is not the same thing; for in induction it is the
universal whose admission is secured from the particulars, whereas in arguments from
likeness, what is secured is not the universal under which all the like cases fall.
It is a good rule also, occasionally to bring an objection against oneself: for answerers are
put off their guard against those who appear to be arguing impartially. It is useful too, to
add that 'So and so is generally held or commonly said'; for people are shy of upsetting
the received opinion unless they have some positive objection to urge: and at the same
time they are cautious about upsetting such things because they themselves too find them
useful. Moreover, do not be insistent, even though you really require the point: for
insistence always arouses the more opposition. Further, formulate your premiss as though
it were a mere illustration: for people admit the more readily a proposition made to serve
some other purpose, and not required on its own account. Moreover, do not formulate the
very proposition you need to secure, but rather something from which that necessarily
follows: for people are more willing to admit the latter, because it is not so clear from this
what the result will be, and if the one has been secured, the other has been secured also.
Again, one should put last the point which one most wishes to have conceded; for people
are specially inclined to deny the first questions put to them, because most people in
asking questions put first the points which they are most eager to secure. On the other
hand, in dealing with some people propositions of this sort should be put forward first:
for ill-tempered men admit most readily what comes first, unless the conclusion that will
result actually stares them in the face, while at the close of an argument they show their
ill-temper. Likewise also with those who consider themselves smart at answering: for
when they have admitted most of what you want they finally talk clap-trap to the effect
that the conclusion does not follow from their admissions: yet they say 'Yes' readily,
confident in their own character, and imagining that they cannot suffer any reverse.
Moreover, it is well to expand the argument and insert things that it does not require at
all, as do those who draw false geometrical figures: for in the multitude of details the
whereabouts of the fallacy is obscured. For this reason also a questioner sometimes
evades observation as he adds in a corner what, if he formulated it by itself, would not be
granted.
For concealment, then, the rules which should be followed are the above. Ornament is
attained by induction and distinction of things closely akin. What sort of process
induction is obvious: as for distinction, an instance of the kind of thing meant is the
distinction of one form of knowledge as better than another by being either more
accurate, or concerned with better objects; or the distinction of sciences into speculative,
practical, and productive. For everything of this kind lends additional ornament to the
argument, though there is no necessity to say them, so far as the conclusion goes.
For clearness, examples and comparisons should be adduced, and let the illustrations be
relevant and drawn from things that we know, as in Homer and not as in Choerilus; for
then the proposition is likely to become clearer.
Part 2
In dialectics, syllogism should be employed in reasoning against dialecticians rather than
against the crowd: induction, on the other hand, is most useful against the crowd. This
point has been treated previously as well.' In induction, it is possible in some cases to ask
the question in its universal form, but in others this is not easy, because there is no
established general term that covers all the resemblances: in this case, when people need
to secure the universal, they use the phrase 'in all cases of this sort'. But it is one of the
very hardest things to distinguish which of the things adduced are 'of this sort', and which
are not: and in this connexion people often throw dust in each others' eyes in their
discussion, the one party asserting the likeness of things that are not alike, and the other
disputing the likeness of things that are. One ought, therefore, to try oneself to coin a
word to cover all things of the given sort, so as to leave no opportunity either to the
answerer to dispute, and say that the thing advanced does not answer to a like description,
or to the questioner to suggest falsely that it does answer to a like description, for many
things appear to answer to like descriptions that do not really do so.
If one has made an induction on the strength of several cases and yet the answerer refuses
to grant the universal proposition, then it is fair to demand his objection. But until one has
oneself stated in what cases it is so, it is not fair to demand that he shall say in what cases
it is not so: for one should make the induction first, and then demand the objection. One
ought, moreover, to claim that the objections should not be brought in reference to the
actual subject of the proposition, unless that subject happen to be the one and only thing
of the kind, as for instance two is the one prime number among the even numbers: for,
unless he can say that this subject is unique of its kind, the objector ought to make his
objection in regard to some other. People sometimes object to a universal proposition,
and bring their objection not in regard to the thing itself, but in regard to some homonym
of it: thus they argue that a man can very well have a colour or a foot or a hand other than
his own, for a painter may have a colour that is not his own, and a cook may have a foot
that is not his own. To meet them, therefore, you should draw the distinction before
putting your question in such cases: for so long as the ambiguity remains undetected, so
long will the objection to the proposition be deemed valid. If, however, he checks the
series of questions by an objection in regard not to some homonym, but to the actual
thing asserted, the questioner should withdraw the point objected to, and form the
remainder into a universal proposition, until he secures what he requires; e.g. in the case
of forgetfulness and having forgotten: for people refuse to admit that the man who has
lost his knowledge of a thing has forgotten it, because if the thing alters, he has lost
knowledge of it, but he has not forgotten it. Accordingly the thing to do is to withdraw
the part objected to, and assert the remainder, e.g. that if a person have lost knowledge of
a thing while it still remains, he then has forgotten it. One should similarly treat those
who object to the statement that 'the greater the good, the greater the evil that is its
opposite': for they allege that health, which is a less good thing than vigour, has a greater
evil as its opposite: for disease is a greater evil than debility. In this case too, therefore,
we have to withdraw the point objected to; for when it has been withdrawn, the man is
more likely to admit the proposition, e.g. that 'the greater good has the greater evil as its
opposite, unless the one good involves the other as well', as vigour involves health. This
should be done not only when he formulates an objection, but also if, without so doing,
he refuses to admit the point because he foresees something of the kind: for if the point
objected to be withdrawn, he will be forced to admit the proposition because he cannot
foresee in the rest of it any case where it does not hold true: if he refuse to admit it, then
when asked for an objection he certainly will be unable to render one. Propositions that
are partly false and partly true are of this type: for in the case of these it is possible by
withdrawing a part to leave the rest true. If, however, you formulate the proposition on
the strength of many cases and he has no objection to bring, you may claim that he shall
admit it: for a premiss is valid in dialectics which thus holds in several instances and to
which no objection is forthcoming.
Whenever it is possible to reason to the same conclusion either through or without a
reduction per impossibile, if one is demonstrating and not arguing dialectically it makes
no difference which method of reasoning be adopted, but in argument with another
reasoning per impossibile should be avoided. For where one has reasoned without the
reduction per impossibile, no dispute can arise; if, on the other hand, one does reason to
an impossible conclusion, unless its falsehood is too plainly manifest, people deny that it
is impossible, so that the questioners do not get what they want.
One should put forward all propositions that hold true of several cases, and to which
either no objection whatever appears or at least not any on the surface: for when people
cannot see any case in which it is not so, they admit it for true.
The conclusion should not be put in the form of a question; if it be, and the man shakes
his head, it looks as if the reasoning had failed. For often, even if it be not put as a
question but advanced as a consequence, people deny it, and then those who do not see
that it follows upon the previous admissions do not realize that those who deny it have
been refuted: when, then, the one man merely asks it as a question without even saying
that it so follows, and the other denies it, it looks altogether as if the reasoning had failed.
Not every universal question can form a dialectical proposition as ordinarily understood,
e.g. 'What is man?' or 'How many meanings has "the good"?' For a dialectical premiss
must be of a form to which it is possible to reply 'Yes' or 'No', whereas to the aforesaid it
is not possible. For this reason questions of this kind are not dialectical unless the
questioner himself draws distinctions or divisions before expressing them, e.g. 'Good
means this, or this, does it not?' For questions of this sort are easily answered by a Yes or
a No. Hence one should endeavour to formulate propositions of this kind in this form. It
is at the same time also perhaps fair to ask the other man how many meanings of 'the
good' there are, whenever you have yourself distinguished and formulated them, and he
will not admit them at all.
Any one who keeps on asking one thing for a long time is a bad inquirer. For if he does
so though the person questioned keeps on answering the questions, clearly he asks a large
number of questions, or else asks the same question a large number of times: in the one
case he merely babbles, in the other he fails to reason: for reasoning always consists of a
small number of premisses. If, on the other hand, he does it because the person
questioned does not answer the questions, he is at fault in not taking him to task or
breaking off the discussion.
Part 3
There are certain hypotheses upon which it is at once difficult to bring, and easy to stand
up to, an argument. Such (e.g.) are those things which stand first and those which stand
last in the order of nature. For the former require definition, while the latter have to be
arrived at through many steps if one wishes to secure a continuous proof from first
principles, or else all discussion about them wears the air of mere sophistry: for to prove
anything is impossible unless one begins with the appropriate principles, and connects
inference with inference till the last are reached. Now to define first principles is just
what answerers do not care to do, nor do they pay any attention if the questioner makes a
definition: and yet until it is clear what it is that is proposed, it is not easy to discuss it.
This sort of thing happens particularly in the case of the first principles: for while the
other propositions are shown through these, these cannot be shown through anything else:
we are obliged to understand every item of that sort by a definition. The inferences, too,
that lie too close to the first principle are hard to treat in argument: for it is not possible to
bring many arguments in regard to them, because of the small number of those steps,
between the conclusion and the principle, whereby the succeeding propositions have to
be shown. The hardest, however, of all definitions to treat in argument are those that
employ terms about which, in the first place, it is uncertain whether they are used in one
sense or several, and, further, whether they are used literally or metaphorically by the
definer. For because of their obscurity, it is impossible to argue upon such terms; and
because of the impossibility of saying whether this obscurity is due to their being used
metaphorically, it is impossible to refute them.
In general, it is safe to suppose that, whenever any problem proves intractable, it either
needs definition or else bears either several senses, or a metaphorical sense, or it is not far
removed from the first principles; or else the reason is that we have yet to discover in the
first place just this-in which of the aforesaid directions the source of our difficulty lies:
when we have made this clear, then obviously our business must be either to define or to
distinguish, or to supply the intermediate premisses: for it is through these that the final
conclusions are shown.
It often happens that a difficulty is found in discussing or arguing a given position
because the definition has not been correctly rendered: e.g. 'Has one thing one contrary or
many?': here when the term 'contraries' has been properly defined, it is easy to bring
people to see whether it is possible for the same thing to have several contraries or not: in
the same way also with other terms requiring definition. It appears also in mathematics
that the difficulty in using a figure is sometimes due to a defect in definition; e.g. in
proving that the line which cuts the plane parallel to one side divides similarly both the
line which it cuts and the area; whereas if the definition be given, the fact asserted
becomes immediately clear: for the areas have the same fraction subtracted from them as
have the sides: and this is the definition of 'the same ratio'. The most primary of the
elementary principles are without exception very easy to show, if the definitions
involved, e.g. the nature of a line or of a circle, be laid down; only the arguments that can
be brought in regard to each of them are not many, because there are not many
intermediate steps. If, on the other hand, the definition of the starting-points be not laid
down, to show them is difficult and may even prove quite impossible. The case of the
significance of verbal expressions is like that of these mathematical conceptions.
One may be sure then, whenever a position is hard to discuss, that one or other of the
aforesaid things has happened to it. Whenever, on the other hand, it is a harder task to
argue to the point claimed, i.e. the premiss, than to the resulting position, a doubt may
arise whether such claims should be admitted or not: for if a man is going to refuse to
admit it and claim that you shall argue to it as well, he will be giving the signal for a
harder undertaking than was originally proposed: if, on the other hand, he grants it, he
will be giving the original thesis credence on the strength of what is less credible than
itself. If, then, it is essential not to enhance the difficulty of the problem, he had better
grant it; if, on the other hand, it be essential to reason through premisses that are better
assured, he had better refuse. In other words, in serious inquiry he ought not to grant it,
unless he be more sure about it than about the conclusion; whereas in a dialectical
exercise he may do so if he is merely satisfied of its truth. Clearly, then, the
circumstances under which such admissions should be claimed are different for a mere
questioner and for a serious teacher.
Part 4
As to the formulation, then, and arrangement of one's questions, about enough has been
said.
With regard to the giving of answers, we must first define what is the business of a good
answerer, as of a good questioner. The business of the questioner is so to develop the
argument as to make the answerer utter the most extrvagant paradoxes that necessarily
follow because of his position: while that of the answerer is to make it appear that it is not
he who is responsible for the absurdity or paradox, but only his position: for one may,
perhaps, distinguish between the mistake of taking up a wrong position to start with, and
that of not maintaining it properly, when once taken up.
Part 5
Inasmuch as no rules are laid down for those who argue for the sake of training and of
examination:-and the aim of those engaged in teaching or learning is quite different from
that of those engaged in a competition; as is the latter from that of those who discuss
things together in the spirit of inquiry: for a learner should always state what he thinks:
for no one is even trying to teach him what is false; whereas in a competition the business
of the questioner is to appear by all means to produce an effect upon the other, while that
of the answerer is to appear unaffected by him; on the other hand, in an assembly of
disputants discussing in the spirit not of a competition but of an examination and inquiry,
there are as yet no articulate rules about what the answerer should aim at, and what kind
of things he should and should not grant for the correct or incorrect defence of his
position:-inasmuch, then, as we have no tradition bequeathed to us by others, let us try to
say something upon the matter for ourselves.
The thesis laid down by the answerer before facing the questioner's argument is bound of
necessity to be one that is either generally accepted or generally rejected or else is
neither: and moreover is so accepted or rejected either absolutely or else with a
restriction, e.g. by some given person, by the speaker or by some one else. The manner,
however, of its acceptance or rejection, whatever it be, makes no difference: for the right
way to answer, i.e. to admit or to refuse to admit what has been asked, will be the same in
either case. If, then, the statement laid down by the answerer be generally rejected, the
conclusion aimed at by the questioner is bound to be one generally accepted, whereas if
the former be generally accepted, the latter is generally rejected: for the conclusion which
the questioner tries to draw is always the opposite of the statement laid down. If, on the
other hand, what is laid down is generally neither rejected nor accepted, the conclusion
will be of the same type as well. Now since a man who reasons correctly demonstrates
his proposed conclusion from premisses that are more generally accepted, and more
familiar, it is clear that (1) where the view laid down by him is one that generally is
absolutely rejected, the answerer ought not to grant either what is thus absolutely not
accepted at all, or what is accepted indeed, but accepted less generally than the
questioner's conclusion. For if the statement laid down by the answerer be generally
rejected, the conclusion aimed at by the questioner will be one that is generally accepted,
so that the premisses secured by the questioner should all be views generally accepted,
and more generally accepted than his proposed conclusion, if the less familiar is to be
inferred through the more familiar. Consequently, if any of the questions put to him be
not of this character, the answerer should not grant them. (2) If, on the other hand, the
statement laid down by the answerer be generally accepted without qualification, clearly
the conclusion sought by the questioner will be one generally rejected without
qualification. Accordingly, the answerer should admit all views that are generally
accepted and, of those that are not generally accepted, all that are less generally rejected
than the conclusion sought by the questioner. For then he will probably be thought to
have argued sufficiently well. (3) Likewise, too, if the statement laid down by the
answerer be neither rejected generally nor generally accepted; for then, too, anything that
appears to be true should be granted, and, of the views not generally accepted, any that
are more generally accepted than the questioner's conclusion; for in that case the result
will be that the arguments will be more generally accepted. If, then, the view laid down
by the answerer be one that is generally accepted or rejected without qualification, then
the views that are accepted absolutely must be taken as the standard of comparison:
whereas if the view laid down be one that is not generally accepted or rejected, but only
by the answerer, then the standard whereby the latter must judge what is generally
accepted or not, and must grant or refuse to grant the point asked, is himself. If, again, the
answerer be defending some one else's opinion, then clearly it will be the latter's
judgement to which he must have regard in granting or denying the various points. This is
why those, too, who introduce other's opinions, e.g. that 'good and evil are the same
thing, as Heraclitus says,' refuse to admit the impossibility of contraries belonging at the
same time to the same thing; not because they do not themselves believe this, but because
on Heraclitus' principles one has to say so. The same thing is done also by those who take
on the defence of one another's positions; their aim being to speak as would the man who
stated the position.
Part 6
It is clear, then, what the aims of the answerer should be, whether the position he lays
down be a view generally accepted without qualification or accepted by some definite
person. Now every question asked is bound to involve some view that is either generally
held or generally rejected or neither, and is also bound to be either relevant to the
argument or irrelevant: if then it be a view generally accepted and irrelevant, the
answerer should grant it and remark that it is the accepted view: if it be a view not
generally accepted and irrelevant, he should grant it but add a comment that it is not
generally accepted, in order to avoid the appearance of being a simpleton. If it be relevant
and also be generally accepted, he should admit that it is the view generally accepted but
say that it lies too close to the original proposition, and that if it be granted the problem
proposed collapses. If what is claimed by the questioner be relevant but too generally
rejected, the answerer, while admitting that if it be granted the conclusion sought follows,
should yet protest that the proposition is too absurd to be admitted. Suppose, again, it be a
view that is neither rejected generally nor generally accepted, then, if it be irrelevant to
the argument, it may be granted without restriction; if, however, it be relevant, the
answerer should add the comment that, if it be granted, the original problem collapses.
For then the answerer will not be held to be personally accountable for what happens to
him, if he grants the several points with his eyes open, and also the questioner will be
able to draw his inference, seeing that all the premisses that are more generally accepted
than the conclusion are granted him. Those who try to draw an inference from premisses
more generally rejected than the conclusion clearly do not reason correctly: hence, when
men ask these things, they ought not to be granted.
Part 7
The questioner should be met in a like manner also in the case of terms used obscurely,
i.e. in several senses. For the answerer, if he does not understand, is always permitted to
say 'I do not understand': he is not compelled to reply 'Yes' or 'No' to a question which
may mean different things. Clearly, then, in the first place, if what is said be not clear, he
ought not to hesitate to say that he does not understand it; for often people encounter
some difficulty from assenting to questions that are not clearly put. If he understands the
question and yet it covers many senses, then supposing what it says to be universally true
or false, he should give it an unqualified assent or denial: if, on the other hand, it be
partly true and partly false, he should add a comment that it bears different senses, and
also that in one it is true, in the other false: for if he leave this distinction till later, it
becomes uncertain whether originally as well he perceived the ambiguity or not. If he
does not foresee the ambiguity, but assents to the question having in view the one sense
of the words, then, if the questioner takes it in the other sense, he should say, 'That was
not what I had in view when I admitted it; I meant the other sense': for if a term or
expression covers more than one thing, it is easy to disagree. If, however, the question is
both clear and simple, he should answer either 'Yes' or 'No'.
Part 8
A premiss in reasoning always either is one of the constituent elements in the reasoning,
or else goes to establish one of these: (and you can always tell when it is secured in order
to establish something else by the fact of a number of similar questions being put: for as a
rule people secure their universal by means either of induction or of likeness):accordingly the particular propositions should all be admitted, if they are true and
generally held. On the other hand, against the universal one should try to bring some
negative instance; for to bring the argument to a standstill without a negative instance,
either real or apparent, shows ill-temper. If, then, a man refuses to grant the universal
when supported by many instances, although he has no negative instance to show, he
obviously shows ill-temper. If, moreover, he cannot even attempt a counter-proof that it
is not true, far more likely is he to be thought ill-tempered-although even counter-proof is
not enough: for we often hear arguments that are contrary to common opinions, whose
solution is yet difficult, e.g. the argument of Zeno that it is impossible to move or to
traverse the stadium;-but still, this is no reason for omitting to assert the opposites of
these views. If, then, a man refuses to admit the proposition without having either a
negative instance or some counter-argument to bring against it, clearly he is ill-tempered:
for ill-temper in argument consists in answering in ways other than the above, so as to
wreck the reasoning.
Part 9
Before maintaining either a thesis or a definition the answerer should try his hand at
attacking it by himself; for clearly his business is to oppose those positions from which
questioners demolish what he has laid down.
He should beware of maintaining a hypothesis that is generally rejected: and this it may
be in two ways: for it may be one which results in absurd statements, e.g. suppose any
one were to say that everything is in motion or that nothing is; and also there are all those
which only a bad character would choose, and which are implicitly opposed to men's
wishes, e.g. that pleasure is the good, and that to do injustice is better than to suffer it. For
people then hate him, supposing him to maintain them not for the sake of argument but
because he really thinks them.
Part 10
Of all arguments that reason to a false conclusion the right solution is to demolish the
point on which the fallacy that occurs depends: for the demolition of any random point is
no solution, even though the point demolished be false. For the argument may contain
many falsehoods, e.g. suppose some one to secure the premisses, 'He who sits, writes' and
'Socrates is sitting': for from these it follows that 'Socrates is writing'. Now we may
demolish the proposition 'Socrates is sitting', and still be no nearer a solution of the
argument; it may be true that the point claimed is false; but it is not on that that fallacy of
the argument depends: for supposing that any one should happen to be sitting and not
writing, it would be impossible in such a case to apply the same solution. Accordingly, it
is not this that needs to be demolished, but rather that 'He who sits, writes': for he who
sits does not always write. He, then, who has demolished the point on which the fallacy
depends, has given the solution of the argument completely. Any one who knows that it
is on such and such a point that the argument depends, knows the solution of it, just as in
the case of a figure falsely drawn. For it is not enough to object, even if the point
demolished be a falsehood, but the reason of the fallacy should also be proved: for then it
would be clear whether the man makes his objection with his eyes open or not.
There are four possible ways of preventing a man from working his argument to a
conclusion. It can be done either by demolishing the point on which the falsehood that
comes about depends, or by stating an objection directed against the questioner: for often
when a solution has not as a matter of fact been brought, yet the questioner is rendered
thereby unable to pursue the argument any farther. Thirdly, one may object to the
questions asked: for it may happen that what the questioner wants does not follow from
the questions he has asked because he has asked them badly, whereas if something
additional be granted the conclusion comes about. If, then, the questioner be unable to
pursue his argument farther, the objection would properly be directed against the
questioner; if he can do so, then it would be against his questions. The fourth and worst
kind of objection is that which is directed to the time allowed for discussion: for some
people bring objections of a kind which would take longer to answer than the length of
the discussion in hand.
There are then, as we said, four ways of making objections: but of them the first alone is
a solution: the others are just hindrances and stumbling-blocks to prevent the conclusions.
Part 11
Adverse criticism of an argument on its own merits, and of it when presented in the form
of questions, are two different things. For often the failure to carry through the argument
correctly in discussion is due to the person questioned, because he will not grant the steps
of which a correct argument might have been made against his position: for it is not in the
power of the one side only to effect properly a result that depends on both alike.
Accordingly it sometimes becomes necessary to attack the speaker and not his position,
when the answerer lies in wait for the points that are contrary to the questioner and
becomes abusive as well: when people lose their tempers in this way, their argument
becomes a contest, not a discussion. Moreover, since arguments of this kind are held not
for the sake of instruction but for purposes of practice and examination, clearly one has to
reason not only to true conclusions, but also to false ones, and not always through true
premisses, but sometimes through false as well. For often, when a true proposition is put
forward, the dialectician is compelled to demolish it: and then false propositions have to
be formulated. Sometimes also when a false proposition is put forward, it has to be
demolished by means of false propositions: for it is possible for a given man to believe
what is not the fact more firmly than the truth. Accordingly, if the argument be made to
depend on something that he holds, it will be easier to persuade or help him. He,
however, who would rightly convert any one to a different opinion should do so in a
dialectical and not in a contentious manner, just as a geometrician should reason
geometrically, whether his conclusion be false or true: what kind of syllogisms are
dialectical has already been said. The principle that a man who hinders the common
business is a bad partner, clearly applies to an argument as well; for in arguments as well
there is a common aim in view, except with mere contestants, for these cannot both reach
the same goal; for more than one cannot possibly win. It makes no difference whether he
effects this as answerer or as questioner: for both he who asks contentious questions is a
bad dialectician, and also he who in answering fails to grant the obvious answer or to
understand the point of the questioner's inquiry. What has been said, then, makes it clear
that adverse criticism is not to be passed in a like strain upon the argument on its own
merits, and upon the questioner: for it may very well be that the argument is bad, but that
the questioner has argued with the answerer in the best possible way: for when men lose
their tempers, it may perhaps be impossible to make one's inferences straight-forwardly
as one would wish: we have to do as we can.
Inasmuch as it is indeterminate when people are claiming the admission of contrary
things, and when they are claiming what originally they set out to prove-for often when
they are talking by themselves they say contrary things, and admit afterwards what they
have previously denied; for which reason they often assent, when questioned, to contrary
things and to what originally had to be proved-the argument is sure to become vitiated.
The responsibility, however, for this rests with the answerer, because while refusing to
grant other points, he does grant points of that kind. It is, then, clear that adverse criticism
is not to be passed in a like manner upon questioners and upon their arguments.
In itself an argument is liable to five kinds of adverse criticism:
(1) The first is when neither the proposed conclusion nor indeed any conclusion at all is
drawn from the questions asked, and when most, if not all, of the premisses on which the
conclusion rests are false or generally rejected, when, moreover, neither any withdrawals
nor additions nor both together can bring the conclusions about.
(2) The second is, supposing the reasoning, though constructed from the premisses, and
in the manner, described above, were to be irrelevant to the original position.
(3) The third is, supposing certain additions would bring an inference about but yet these
additions were to be weaker than those that were put as questions and less generally held
than the conclusion.
(4) Again, supposing certain withdrawals could effect the same: for sometimes people
secure more premisses than are necessary, so that it is not through them that the inference
comes about.
(5) Moreover, suppose the premisses be less generally held and less credible than the
conclusion, or if, though true, they require more trouble to prove than the proposed view.
One must not claim that the reasoning to a proposed view shall in every case equally be a
view generally accepted and convincing: for it is a direct result of the nature of things that
some subjects of inquiry shall be easier and some harder, so that if a man brings people to
accept his point from opinions that are as generally received as the case admits, he has
argued his case correctly. Clearly, then, not even the argument itself is open to the same
adverse criticism when taken in relation to the proposed conclusion and when taken by
itself. For there is nothing to prevent the argument being open to reproach in itself, and
yet commendable in relation to the proposed conclusion, or again, vice versa, being
commendable in itself, and yet open to reproach in relation to the proposed conclusion,
whenever there are many propositions both generally held and also true whereby it could
easily be proved. It is possible also that an argument, even though brought to a
conclusion, may sometimes be worse than one which is not so concluded, whenever the
premisses of the former are silly, while its conclusion is not so; whereas the latter, though
requiring certain additions, requires only such as are generally held and true, and
moreover does not rest as an argument on these additions. With those which bring about a
true conclusion by means of false premisses, it is not fair to find fault: for a false
conclusion must of necessity always be reached from a false premiss, but a true
conclusion may sometimes be drawn even from false premisses; as is clear from the
Analytics.
Whenever by the argument stated something is demonstrated, but that something is other
than what is wanted and has no bearing whatever on the conclusion, then no inference as
to the latter can be drawn from it: and if there appears to be, it will be a sophism, not a
proof. A philosopheme is a demonstrative inference: an epichireme is a dialectical
inference: a sophism is a contentious inference: an aporeme is an inference that reasons
dialectically to a contradiction.
If something were to be shown from premisses, both of which are views generally
accepted, but not accepted with like conviction, it may very well be that the conclusion
shown is something held more strongly than either. If, on the other hand, general opinion
be for the one and neither for nor against the other, or if it be for the one and against the
other, then, if the pro and con be alike in the case of the premisses, they will be alike for
the conclusion also: if, on the other hand, the one preponderates, the conclusion too will
follow suit.
It is also a fault in reasoning when a man shows something through a long chain of steps,
when he might employ fewer steps and those already included in his argument: suppose
him to be showing (e.g.) that one opinion is more properly so called than another, and
suppose him to make his postulates as follows: 'x-in-itself is more fully x than anything
else': 'there genuinely exists an object of opinion in itself': therefore 'the object-ofopinion-in-itself is more fully an object of opinion than the particular objects of opinion'.
Now 'a relative term is more fully itself when its correlate is more fully itself': and 'there
exists a genuine opinion-in-itself, which will be "opinion" in a more accurate sense than
the particular opinions': and it has been postulated both that 'a genuine opinion-in-itself
exists', and that 'x-in-itself is more fully x than anything else': therefore 'this will be
opinion in a more accurate sense'. Wherein lies the viciousness of the reasoning? Simply
in that it conceals the ground on which the argument depends.
Part 12
An argument is clear in one, and that the most ordinary, sense, if it be so brought to a
conclusion as to make no further questions necessary: in another sense, and this is the
type most usually advanced, when the propositions secured are such as compel the
conclusion, and the argument is concluded through premisses that are themselves
conclusions: moreover, it is so also if some step is omitted that generally is firmly
accepted.
An argument is called fallacious in four senses: (1) when it appears to be brought to a
conclusion, and is not really so-what is called 'contentious' reasoning: (2) when it comes
to a conclusion but not to the conclusion proposed-which happens principally in the case
of reductiones ad impossibile: (3) when it comes to the proposed conclusion but not
according to the mode of inquiry appropriate to the case, as happens when a non-medical
argument is taken to be a medical one, or one which is not geometrical for a geometrical
argument, or one which is not dialectical for dialectical, whether the result reached be
true or false: (4) if the conclusion be reached through false premisses: of this type the
conclusion is sometimes false, sometimes true: for while a false conclusion is always the
result of false premisses, a true conclusion may be drawn even from premisses that are
not true, as was said above as well.
Fallacy in argument is due to a mistake of the arguer rather than of the argument: yet it is
not always the fault of the arguer either, but only when he is not aware of it: for we often
accept on its merits in preference to many true ones an argument which demolishes some
true proposition if it does so from premisses as far as possible generally accepted. For an
argument of that kind does demonstrate other things that are true: for one of the
premisses laid down ought never to be there at all, and this will then be demonstrated. If,
however, a true conclusion were to be reached through premisses that are false and
utterly childish, the argument is worse than many arguments that lead to a false
conclusion, though an argument which leads to a false conclusion may also be of this
type. Clearly then the first thing to ask in regard to the argument in itself is, 'Has it a
conclusion?'; the second, 'Is the conclusion true or false?'; the third, 'Of what kind of
premisses does it consist?': for if the latter, though false, be generally accepted, the
argument is dialectical, whereas if, though true, they be generally rejected, it is bad: if
they be both false and also entirely contrary to general opinion, clearly it is bad, either
altogether or else in relation to the particular matter in hand.
Part 13
Of the ways in which a questioner may beg the original question and also beg contraries
the true account has been given in the Analytics:' but an account on the level of general
opinion must be given now.
People appear to beg their original question in five ways: the first and most obvious being
if any one begs the actual point requiring to be shown: this is easily detected when put in
so many words; but it is more apt to escape detection in the case of different terms, or a
term and an expression, that mean the same thing. A second way occurs whenever any
one begs universally something which he has to demonstrate in a particular case: suppose
(e.g.) he were trying to prove that the knowledge of contraries is one and were to claim
that the knowledge of opposites in general is one: for then he is generally thought to be
begging, along with a number of other things, that which he ought to have shown by
itself. A third way is if any one were to beg in particular cases what he undertakes to
show universally: e.g. if he undertook to show that the knowledge of contraries is always
one, and begged it of certain pairs of contraries: for he also is generally considered to be
begging independently and by itself what, together with a number of other things, he
ought to have shown. Again, a man begs the question if he begs his conclusion
piecemeal: supposing e.g. that he had to show that medicine is a science of what leads to
health and to disease, and were to claim first the one, then the other; or, fifthly, if he were
to beg the one or the other of a pair of statements that necessarily involve one other; e.g.
if he had to show that the diagonal is incommensurable with the side, and were to beg
that the side is incommensurable with the diagonal.
The ways in which people assume contraries are equal in number to those in which they
beg their original question. For it would happen, firstly, if any one were to beg an
opposite affirmation and negation; secondly, if he were to beg the contrary terms of an
antithesis, e.g. that the same thing is good and evil; thirdly, suppose any one were to
claim something universally and then proceed to beg its contradictory in some particular
case, e.g. if having secured that the knowledge of contraries is one, he were to claim that
the knowledge of what makes for health or for disease is different; or, fourthly, suppose
him, after postulating the latter view, to try to secure universally the contradictory
statement. Again, fifthly, suppose a man begs the contrary of the conclusion which
necessarily comes about through the premisses laid down; and this would happen
suppose, even without begging the opposites in so many words, he were to beg two
premisses such that this contradictory statement that is opposite to the first conclusion
will follow from them. The securing of contraries differs from begging the original
question in this way: in the latter case the mistake lies in regard to the conclusion; for it is
by a glance at the conclusion that we tell that the original question has been begged:
whereas contrary views lie in the premisses, viz. in a certain relation which they bear to
one another.
Part 14
The best way to secure training and practice in arguments of this kind is in the first place
to get into the habit of converting the arguments. For in this way we shall be better
equipped for dealing with the proposition stated, and after a few attempts we shall know
several arguments by heart. For by 'conversion' of an argument is meant the taking the
reverse of the conclusion together with the remaining propositions asked and so
demolishing one of those that were conceded: for it follows necessarily that if the
conclusion be untrue, some one of the premisses is demolished, seeing that, given all the
premisses, the conclusion was bound to follow. Always, in dealing with any proposition,
be on the look-out for a line of argument both pro and con: and on discovering it at once
set about looking for the solution of it: for in this way you will soon find that you have
trained yourself at the same time in both asking questions and answering them. If we
cannot find any one else to argue with, we should argue with ourselves. Select, moreover,
arguments relating to the same thesis and range them side by side: for this produces a
plentiful supply of arguments for carrying a point by sheer force, and in refutation also it
is of great service, whenever one is well stocked with arguments pro and con: for then
you find yourself on your guard against contrary statements to the one you wish to
secure. Moreover, as contributing to knowledge and to philosophic wisdom the power of
discerning and holding in one view the results of either of two hypotheses is no mean
instrument; for it then only remains to make a right choice of one of them. For a task of
this kind a certain natural ability is required: in fact real natural ability just is the power
right to choose the true and shun the false. Men of natural ability can do this; for by a
right liking or disliking for whatever is proposed to them they rightly select what is best.
It is best to know by heart arguments upon those questions which are of most frequent
occurrence, and particularly in regard to those propositions which are ultimate: for in
discussing these answerers frequently give up in despair. Moreover, get a good stock of
definitions: and have those of familiar and primary ideas at your fingers' ends: for it is
through these that reasonings are effected. You should try, moreover, to master the heads
under which other arguments mostly tend to fall. For just as in geometry it is useful to be
practised in the elements, and in arithmetic to have the multiplication table up to ten at
one's fingers' ends-and indeed it makes a great difference in one's knowledge of the
multiples of other numbers too-likewise also in arguments it is a great advantage to be
well up in regard to first principles, and to have a thorough knowledge of premisses at the
tip of one's tongue. For just as in a person with a trained memory, a memory of things
themselves is immediately caused by the mere mention of their loci, so these habits too
will make a man readier in reasoning, because he has his premisses classified before his
mind's eye, each under its number. It is better to commit to memory a premiss of general
application than an argument: for it is difficult to be even moderately ready with a first
principle, or hypothesis.
Moreover, you should get into the habit of turning one argument into several, and conceal
your procedure as darkly as you can: this kind of effect is best produced by keeping as far
as possible away from topics akin to the subject of the argument. This can be done with
arguments that are entirely universal, e.g. the statement that 'there cannot be one
knowledge of more than one thing': for that is the case with both relative terms and
contraries and co-ordinates.
Records of discussions should be made in a universal form, even though one has argued
only some particular case: for this will enable one to turn a single rule into several. A like
rule applies in Rhetoric as well to enthymemes. For yourself, however, you should as far
as possible avoid universalizing your reasonings. You should, moreover, always examine
arguments to see whether they rest on principles of general application: for all particular
arguments really reason universally, as well, i.e. a particular demonstration always
contains a universal demonstration, because it is impossible to reason at all without using
universals.
You should display your training in inductive reasoning against a young man, in
deductive against an expert. You should try, moreover, to secure from those skilled in
deduction their premisses, from inductive reasoners their parallel cases; for this is the
thing in which they are respectively trained. In general, too, from your exercises in
argumentation you should try to carry away either a syllogism on some subject or a
refutation or a proposition or an objection, or whether some one put his question properly
or improperly (whether it was yourself or some one else) and the point which made it the
one or the other. For this is what gives one ability, and the whole object of training is to
acquire ability, especially in regard to propositions and objections. For it is the skilled
propounder and objector who is, speaking generally, a dialectician. To formulate a
proposition is to form a number of things into one-for the conclusion to which the
argument leads must be taken generally, as a single thing-whereas to formulate an
objection is to make one thing into many; for the objector either distinguishes or
demolishes, partly granting, partly denying the statements proposed.
Do not argue with every one, nor practise upon the man in the street: for there are some
people with whom any argument is bound to degenerate. For against any one who is
ready to try all means in order to seem not to be beaten, it is indeed fair to try all means
of bringing about one's conclusion: but it is not good form. Wherefore the best rule is, not
lightly to engage with casual acquaintances, or bad argument is sure to result. For you see
how in practising together people cannot refrain from contentious argument.
It is best also to have ready-made arguments relating to those questions in which a very
small stock will furnish us with arguments serviceable on a very large number of
occasions. These are those that are universal, and those in regard to which it is rather
difficult to produce points for ourselves from matters of everyday experience.
SOPHISTICAL REFUTATIONS
On Sophistical Refutations
By Aristotle
Written 350 B.C.E
Translated by W. A. Pickard-Cambridge
Table of Contents
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-whilesitting' 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 apparentapparent, 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 distinctionsuppose 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.