One of the things I strive for in my classes is to help students move from “fuzzy thinking” about matters of faith to the capacity to engage in “critical thinking.” Fuzzy thinking takes different forms, including, “devotional,” “rhetorical,” “metaphorical,” and “magical” thinking. Those forms of thinking have their place. It’s not an issue of them being inferior to a more rigorous way of thinking. But a mature faith is a critical faith in that it has the capacity to reflect on its own experience, critically assess and think about phenomenon, and move from naiveté to mature thinking. As St. Paul said, “When I was a child I . . . thought like a child, reasoned like a child. When I became an adult I put childish ways behind me.”
I often say that the academe is “not the real world,” but it does provide the opportunity to engage in the luxury of “deep thought” about matters. Deep thought can lead to “deep understanding” which is a worthy pedagogical goal. I’ve always found it a shame that there seems to be an assumption that “deep thought” can only happen in an academic schooling setting but is impossible to achieve in the congregational context. I don’t think that’s necessarily true, though believers often are accused of leaving their brains at the door of the church as they enter.
One place to start for moving from fuzzy to critical thinking is being able to recognize the ways that fuzzy thinking can express itself. Here are eight common fuzzy ways of thinking that often come up in discussions and dialogue.
Post hoc ergo propter hoc. This fuzzy thinking is an error of causality. It results when it is assumed that since one thing follows another in time, the later of the two must have been caused by the first. There are plenty of jokes that highlight the fallacy of this thinking, like the old joke about asking an octogenarian how he or she has lived so long and they attribute it to drinking a glass of wine or whiskey every day, or not mixing cold and hot things when eating, etc. Mark Twain once claimed that his perfect teeth at old age, after a lifetime of drinking, proved that whiskey had teeth-preserving qualities. Theological examples of this form of reasoning can be seen in televangelists’ isogesis of apocalyptic “end-time prophecies” and may be seen in the hermeneutical claims that everything in the Old Testament refers to Jesus of Nazareth and the Christ.
Ad misericordium. I never fail to be amazed at this one. This fuzzy thinking suggests that a point of view or opinion should be validated or given weight on the grounds that those who hold it deserve our sympathy. It is, at heart (pun intended), an appeal to pity, not to the validity of the argument. It pretty much says, “We should listen to this person because he’s so pathetic and we should feel sorry for him.” The joke associated with this one is about the man who kills his parents and then begs for mercy of the court because he is an orphan. My police officer son has often heard an attorney plead for a client, in court, using this argument. In one case a lawyer for a woman arrested for drunk driving pleaded on the basis that her son had committed suicide recently. While we can sympathize, the judge rightly ruled that the woman’s tragic plight was not an excuse for (1) breaking the law, and (2) potentially robbing others of their children by killing them in an accident. Another variation of this is the appeal to accept an argument because a person is sincere. But you’ve heard the counter-argument to this: people can be sincerely wrong.
Reductio ad absurdum. This thinking often is used to counter an argument. It reduces an argument or position to its ultimate conclusion to the point of absurdity, thereby attempting to show the fallacy of the argument or thesis. While reduction ad absurdum is a valid form of argument when properly constructed it is prone to being itself erroneous. One biblical example of this thinking is Nicodemus’ response to Jesus’ claim that one needs to be “born again” (John 3). Nicodemus takes the argument literally (that’s one fallacy in his reasoning) and attempts to point out how ridiculous it is to think that a grown person can crawl back into the mother’s womb to experience a (physical) rebirth. Jesus ignores Nicodemus’ fuzzy thinking and moves ahead with his exposition on the need for spiritual regeneration. If you spend a lot of time with adolescents you’ll recognize their penchant for this form or argument.
Ad hominem. This form or fuzzy thinking “personalizes” an argument and attributes its worth and validity to the person who is its source. It can take the form of an appeal to authority (“It must be true because my Sunday School teacher said so.” Or, “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.”) or discounting a statement because of the person’s character (a refusal to consider a statement valid because the person who said it is “liberal,” or a “fundamentalist,” or of a particular political party, etc.). As with many forms of fuzzy thinking there is an inability or unwillingness to weigh the validity of the argument on its own merit. This type of attribution can take interesting forms. I’ve heard people be dismissive of a hymn, a music style, or composition because their disagreed with a particular political or theological stance of the composer or writer. Unable to disassociate a work from its creator they are unable to appreciate the aesthetic value of a work on its own merit.
Petitio principii. This form of fuzzy thinking is commonly called “circular reasoning.” In this way of reasoning a person will form a conclusion from a premise that is indistinguishable from the conclusion itself (similar to using the same term in and as a definition of itself). James Hall, emeritus professor of philosophy at the University of Richmond gives some common examples: “I know that God exists because the Bible, God’s Word, says so.” Or, “I believe everything in the Bible is true because it is God’s word and God doesn’t lie.”
Equivocation. This fuzzy thinking is a major cause of vagueness. Equivocation is the use of different meanings for the word, from a simple play on words to the intentional application for ambiguity or deception. In a phrase, it’s the intent behind “It depends on what the meaning of “it” is.” Christian educator Gabriel Moran consistently challenged those in the field on the point of being rigorous in the use of terminology. One common error of equivocation is the use of the term “integrity” for a “moral” or “ethical” person. In fact, the term integrity refers to the consistency between belief and action. Therefore, an evil person who acts in evil ways is a person of integrity.
Other common categories that lead to fuzzy thinking, either by their use or misuse, include amphiboly, (ambiguity of grammar or syntax) and hyperbole (deliberate exaggeration). When hyperbole is not recognized it can lead to unfortunate literalist, if not loopy, interpretations. For example, when Jesus said that anyone who would follow him and be a disciple needs to hate his or her own father and mother, wife, children, siblings, and his own life, he was using hyperbole (Lk. 14:26). The characteristically literalist mindset of many cults have caused no end of anguish by insisting that devotees follow that statement literally.
When we hear these fuzzy ways of reasoning it is appropriate to gently challenge them. There is no virtue in leaving people in error for the sake of not risking hurting their feelings or “offending” them. Educators and teachers need to help their students reflect on their own thinking and reasoning, and to test whether or not the way they approach thinking about faith, life, experiences, or beliefs has validity. Critical thinking and devotion are not mutually exclusive.
