Appendix, Page 1

Appendix

The Categorical Syllogism

If you had rather not get into abstract depths, you may want to ignore this appendix. But, if you do the work, it will be worth it. Do the exercises—paper is cheap.

Some years ago, I was summoned for jury duty. During the voir dire questioning, the prosecuting attorney asked my occupation. I replied, “philosophy professor.” Whereupon, he asked, “If you are selected to sit on the jury, will you decide the case using syllogistic logic?” My answer was, “No, I will not reduce everything to syllogisms, but I will use good logic in making any decisions.” (I wound up on the jury.)

What, you may ask, was the lawyer talking about? What is syllogistic logic, and what are syllogisms? This appendix is written to explain the nature and value of syllogistic logic.

First, we must locate the syllogism as one form of the Dialectic, specifically a form of deductive logic. As outlined in Part Two, deduction is that logic in which if the form is correct and the premises are true, the conclusion must necessarily be true with no possibility at all of being false. Notice that, like all logic, this rests completely on the “if.” If the form is correct, and if the premises are true, then, and only then, is the conclusion of the argument necessarily true.

Chapter 11, Page 1

Chapter 11

Truth, Treasures, and Dreams

You will use the Dialectic differently from other readers because you are different. Your background, beliefs, values, and goals are unique. We each have distinct personalities, perspectives, and possibilities. Our best thought must be consistent with who we are. There is a logic of life. We are the basis of our own thinking—the thesis, the major premise—therefore, we must each determine what that is to be. If we are to think with integrity, we must clarify our basic beliefs, values, and goals. We must know who we are.

Ideally, to do the best thinking, we must be or become good persons, persons of good character. So we must know ourselves, our personal and communal convictions and values. We must determine and give shape to our own unique character. We cannot do our best thinking until we know who we are and why, not until we can clearly and concisely state our starting position in life. If we don’t realize where we’re coming from, there is no telling what will follow. We must know ourselves, decide who we are, and who we intend to become, then live the life of that person. We must live what we believe, else life disintegrates.

All our thought is rooted in what we accept as truth. What do you believe? What do you believe to be true? What do you feel certain about? What do you accept without question? What are your convictions, that is, those things you are convinced of? These core beliefs form the basic theses of our lives. They are, consciously or unconsciously, the starting point of all our thinking.

Chapter 10, Page 1

Chapter 10

You Are the Thinker

Anyone can become a good thinker; anyone can become a better thinker, but if we are to be the best thinker possible, we must be people of good character. Our character precedes all our thought processes. We may develop the Dialectic as our habitual way of thinking; we might even do the necessary work and practice to learn some basic logic and use it when it is appropriate. More important, however, than the Dialectic and logic is the person doing the thinking. I hope this book doesn’t get into the hands of an embezzler or a burglar, a terrorist or a drug dealer, an unethical politician or businessman because I do not want them to become better thinkers at what they do. On the other hand, I suspect that if they became truly good thinkers, some of them would realize they needed to change their ways.

All our thought is ultimately determined by who we are. Have you ever taken time to think about who you are, about what has shaped your life thus far, and what you hope to become and accomplish. or have you gone with the flow, drifting through life? Do you know what things are most important to you? Among those things, do you know what is your ultimate concern? Do you know what you believe to be true? Do you have goals you are working toward? These things form your character, and your character determines the value of your thinking. This last part of the book concentrates not on how to think but on who the thinker is—who we are.

Chapter 9, Page 1

Chapter 9

Probable Truth

Induction

The philosopher Bertrand Russell told a story to introduce inductive logic. I have adapted Russell’s story for that same purpose. My version, however, is more elaborate than his.

In early May, Hoot Shoemake bought fifty two-day-old Rhode Island Red chicks, as he did every spring. When they outgrew the brooder, he moved them into a coop out in the barnyard. Every day about sundown, he would lock them in the coop so they would be secure from raccoons, coyotes, foxes, owls, and other nighttime predators. In the morning, a little before sunup, he would let them out, give them fresh water and feed, and let them run and play, scratch for bugs, and chase grasshoppers. In the evening, he would shut them back into their nighttime security. This was the daily pattern.

June came and then July. Life was wonderful, especially for the little chick that Hoot’s daughter, Kaycee, had named “Rhoda.” When it was dark, she was always securely locked in and huddled up close to the rest of the little flock. When it was light, she was always free to run, play, scratch, chase grasshoppers, and enjoy fresh water and all she wanted to eat. As far as she could remember, this had been the pattern for every day of her life. Therefore, inductively, when daylight came one morning and Rhoda heard Hoot’s footsteps coming, she knew what the day would bring. Except …

Except that all days are not created equal. Some days are exceptional. What little chicken Rhoda didn’t know was that this was Sunday, July 11, and the Shoemake family had invited the preacher to eat lunch with them. So she was surprised, no, shocked, when, as she

Chapter 8, Page 1

Chapter 8

Let’s Be Reasonable about It

Without logic, our thought is always at risk—the risk of inconsistency, the risk that our ideas will not fit together but rather will contradict each other, the risk of becoming a mere hobgoblin of ideas like a cluttered garage. Logic is about consistency, about how things do or do not fit together. Above all, it is about what can or cannot follow from any given starting point.

Contrary to popular belief, everything is logical. Later, I will have more to say about this claim. Meanwhile, since everything follows from something else, anything is open to logical clarification.

Logic is not different from the Dialectic. It is a particular and rigorous instance of dialectical thinking. (Interestingly, math is a particular and extremely rigorous instance of logic.)

If we are going to talk about good thinking, that means that we will of necessity deal with logical thinking. Conventional wisdom says that good thinking is either logical or critical thinking. Yes, but it is more than this. We have seen that good thinking is dialectical thinking, considerate thinking. Good thinking is OTOH, BOTOH. On the other hand, logic, like bipolar thinking, is a particular form of the Dialectic. Although critical thinking—a ubiquitous but ambiguous concept, however you define it—is not what good thinking is all about, it is one part, one that we shall ignore because it is already implicit in all this book says.

The Dialectic is the only way to become a good thinker, but, on the other hand, logic is a valuable assistant. As noted earlier, in the Sears, Roebuck and Co. catalogs of the 1930s and ’40s, many items were available in three different qualities and priced accordingly: good, better, and best. For instance, we could buy a “good” shirt, or a “better one,” or their “best.” The

Chapter 7, Page 1

Chapter 7

Magnetic Thinking

We seek stability. All our lives, we seek the security, comfort, and peace of stability. We don’t like uncertainty. We want things to be settled, to be definite, to stay in place. The Dialectic, however, is dynamic and is the only appropriate response to a dynamic world of uncertainty. There is a special class of relationships where we tend to claim certainty: things that we see as opposites, where we stand on one side or the other, where there is a distinct right and wrong, true and false, black and white, with no space between, no gray areas. We feel we must choose one pole or the other. I call this a bipolar tension. It’s a special form of the Dialectic: the Dialectic of bipolarity.

Definition

I use Dialectic in a broader and more inclusive sense than many others, but I use bipolarity in a narrower, more particular sense. In this chapter, I give it specific definition: It is a relationship between two seemingly incompatible opposites, a relationship in which neither pole is true by itself. It is not, as many say, a relationship of opposites in which both poles are paradoxically true. The poles are true only in the dialectical tension between them. Truth always lies somewhere between the poles, never at the pole. Sometimes, it is almost indistinguishable from a polar position, but still unpolarized, still in tension with the other pole.

Both or Neither?

So much for an attempt at definition. What am I talking about? The simplest approach to understanding bipolarity is to picture a magnet. We know that each pole of the magnet is

Chapter 6, Page 1

Chapter 6

The Medical Dialectic

In the summer of 2009, our daughter had four major surgeries to correct almost unbearable physical problems. It was a medically dialectical summer. The medical dialectic comprise three things: doctor/patient relationship; the doctor’s thought pattern, particularly in diagnosis and choice of treatment; and the nature of medications.

Doctors Are Not Gods

The Dialectic dictates that we live by dialogue with each other. In a medical situation, this means that: we should be prepared to tell the doctor clearly and concisely what we understand our problem to be; the doctor should be a good listener; and she should be prepared to engage her patient in question and answer dialogue. Too often we give our physician an incomplete and somewhat vague account of our symptoms and their history. If our problem is at all serious, we might be wise to take written notes with us lest we forget something important.

In Neil Ravin’s novel, M.D., he tells of a woman who after months of being treated for asthma, told her doctor that she only wheezed when she was in his waiting room, a room furnished with wool-upholstered chairs. And she was allergic to wool. When asked why she had never before mentioned this, she responded that he had never asked. Needless to say, her physician cancelled all her medicines and suggested she stay away from his waiting room. Who was at fault in this situation? Was it the doctor, or the patient? He had not asked, she had not told. No Dialectic at work.