“Assume that your opponent is wrong, and explain his error, and the world will be at your feet. Attempt to prove that he is wrong or (worse still) try to find out whether he is wrong or right, and the national dynamism of our age will thrust you to the wall.”[1] (The key words expressed are “assume” and “prove,” and they couldn’t be anymore disagreeable.)
The first explanation is what we see happening in our culture, especially in political debates and pop-psychology. It’s the impulse of our fallen human nature to assume things about people, especially those we’re competing against. Notice how Lewis understands the motive inherent to making assumptions for the sake of winning arguments: “the world will be at your feet.”
Here are two political, polar-opposite examples of bulverism, which shows that anyone can fall prey to bad logic:
E1: You’re a right-wing conservative only because you come from a privileged white, Christian home.
E2: You’re a liberal extremist only because your parents are poor, illegal immigrants.
Each example assumes that their opponent is wrong and then attacks their motive. Sadly, I’m seeing this happen so often that its ubiquitous nature is starting to have a normalizing effect on me. To be honest, I had to force myself to write this because bulverism had become white-noise until it started to creep into conversations with people I care about.
I even heard it in a recent interview. Here’s the gist of the argument: Apologetics is wrong-headed because apologists are not humble. (There was more said but for the sake of time, I’ve distilled it to one qualifier—pride.)
While it may be true that some apologists are brash and arrogant, that does not disqualify their arguments. To say otherwise would be to commit three fallacies (circular reasoning, ad hominem, and genetic fallacy) rolled into one (bulverism).
I’d like to re-quote the second part of the excerpt: “Attempt to prove that he is wrong or (worse still) try to find out whether he is wrong or right, and the national dynamism of our age will thrust you to the wall.”
Lewis knew that if someone, say, a politician or apologist, was to scavenge for proof of fallacies hidden within their opponent’s argument and had swung the pickaxe atop of a giant X (that marks the spot for rhetorical treasure), well then these emotivists would be outraged to the point of taking drastic measures.
Bulverism is unfortunately alive and well, living in America and the city where I live. But this I promise you: I will try my best not to panic or be offended when my conversation partner lobs a bulveristic grenade at me. I’m not saying I won’t point out their fallacy. I’m just saying I won’t do it to humiliate them like I see some influencers doing on social media.
At the end of the day, no one will admit their fault or recant their position while they have egg on their face.
[1] C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics, ed. Walter Hooper (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1970), 273.