The purpose of debate is to determine the goodness or badness of an
argument by general logical criticism and knowledge of the matter.
This is not dialectic, but takes place after the dialectician
has declared that a given theorem is valid argument. If then its
conclusion is repugnant to us we may seek to stigmatise it--or remove
a stigma as the case may be--by going behind the argument to the
composition of the judgments that enter into it.
Let us take the case of Caesar being proved to be a tyrant in a
society that punishes tyranny with death. There are two ways in which
he may be saved or his punishment mitigated.
We are not bound to take the first precedent that is offered from
which to generate a conclusion. We grant that Caesar resembles the
general notion 'tyrant,' but we ask if he does not resemble in an
equal or greater degree some other person or class in regard to
whom capital punishment is no just treatment. Does he resemble a
'successful and patriotic general'--a 'benevolent monarch'--a 'wise
legislator'--a 'virtuous man'? All these resemblances are compatible
with his being a tyrant in some senses of the word. Let us not condemn
Caesar for what may be a merely technical offence--the usurpation
of authority--if in other respects he is an admirable man. So an
opportunity must be given to Caesar or his advocate to suggest other
precedents, yielding a different conclusion, by which to complete our
imperfect knowledge of the case. Socrates, when he was brought under
the class 'perverters of youth'--which also yielded the conclusion
'death'--suggested as an amendment that he should be classed under
'national benefactors,' with the conclusion 'maintenance for life at
the public expense.'
It is not enough that we can say of a case that it 'is' this or that,
and so proceed to draw the conclusion bound up in that classification.
'Is' in the case means likeness to the precedent, and one 'is' is good
only when no better can be found.
If after having weighed the alternative precedents it appears clear
that Caesar resembles tyrants more than any other class of persons,
the prospect looks bad for him. But there is still a chance of
escaping the worst penalty. It turns on the meaning of the word
'all,' which in logic generally introduces a proposition to which no
exception has been found--the misnamed and misleading 'universal.'
Logicians do not hesitate to say that in this connection it means 'all
possible, known or unknown, past or future individuals of the class.'
They suppose, or talk as if they supposed, that at some fixed date in
our life we enter into possession of our general ideas, and that no
subsequent experience can modify them. Hence the moment it is admitted
that Caesar is a tyrant, he is supposed to come under the rule of a
stereotyped general idea with inflexible consequences.
This is not quite so. 'All' does not mean 'all possible' but
'all known up to the present time, _exclusive of the case under
discussion_.' Our general or average ideas are the plasmic product of
the individuals we have actually known--not a unit more. And as that
idea is liable to be modified by every new individual examined, it
is possible that on examining Caesar we may find reason to change our
general idea, to the extent at least of dividing it into two species,
the tyrants who deserve death and the tyrants who deserve some milder
punishment, and that we shall resolve to bring Caesar under the latter
species. Thus if the idea threatens to hang Caesar, on the other hand
Caesar may burst the idea, and his case establish itself as a new
precedent. That is how general ideas multiply--by a sort of fission.
In the proposition 'tyrants deserve death' as first proposed, we are
dealing with the old general idea, and--as regards all individuals
except those from which it was drawn--the proposition is little
more than a hypothesis. The idea is itself on trial. Until Caesar is
examined we do not fully know how the general tyrant is in future to
be defined. Our examination of Caesar is a part of our education on
the subject of tyrants. In judging we learn, and the general idea
which remains _after Caesar is examined_ is that by which he is to be
judged.
If our idea of tyrant remains unshaken after the trial of Caesar, and
if he is found to resemble that class more than any other, then--and
not till then--are we compelled to pass on him the judgment associated
with the definition of tyrant.
An argument based on a particular or solitary precedent is criticised
on the same principles. We seek to prove either that the case is not
sufficiently like the precedent to justify the application, or that
the applicate is not a property of the precedent. If we make good
either of these propositions, we prevent the suggested conclusion from
being fastened on the case.
The syllogistic dialecticians do not admit alternative precedents
or reconstruction of general ideas: their terms and figures are not
adapted to express such notions. Hence they cannot evade a conclusion
whose premises are correctly given. They have an axiom to the effect
that a judgment must be absolutely true or absolutely false--a door
must be open or shut, it cannot be ajar; every colour is white
or black, it cannot be green or grey, and so on. Now in practical
reasoning we may and constantly do admit premises and reject the
conclusions they dialectically involve. We look at the question 'from
another point of view.' This means that while admitting there is some
ground for bringing a case under a certain precedent, we contend that
on the whole it is preferable to bring it under another precedent
with a different conclusion. The proposed handle _may_ fit the vase
somehow, but we think another sort of handle will suit it better.
Or--rather than accept an objectionable conclusion--we will divide our
idea. This is degree in truth. And that is the elastic method on which
we reason in actual affairs. Logicians give a false account of reason,
and so their systems are neglected and their authority is never
recognised in real debates.